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#i need to get these feelings out of the way before this trip tomorrow
roosterforme · 2 days
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Vintage | Rooster x Reader
Summary: You love teasing your husband about his deep and unwavering devotion to his Bronco, but he's insistent that it would come in second place to you every time, and he intends to prove it. While you're away on deployment, he concocts a plan to get you behind the wheel of your very own vintage beauty.
Warnings: Swears, fluff, mentions of smut
Length: 2700 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
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"Sometimes I swear you love that thing more than you love me."
Your voice startled Bradley as he ran the wet, soapy sponge along the hood of his vintage Ford Bronco, pulling him from his thoughts. That was something you frequently said to him, jokingly claiming that you were the second love of his life. But you both knew it wasn't true. Especially not tonight.
"Hey, Baby," he whispered, coaxing you closer to him as he tossed the sponge back into the bucket. "Come here."
The setting sun painted your face with orange and gold, and he noticed the sadness in your eyes. He quickly wiped his hands on his jeans and then held them out to you, and you were in his arms in an instant. "Bradley," you mumbled against his chest as he squeezed you, getting your shirt a little damp in the process. But you didn't seem to mind. "I'm going to miss you."
Detailing and cleaning what used to be his dad's 1973 Bronco had become a way for him to relieve stress. He would get out the soap and turn on the hose when he needed a few minutes to himself. It was easier to be alone in his head, processing his thoughts and worries when he was washing the light blue masterpiece he'd spent so many years and a lot of money preserving. He always found himself in a better headspace to deal with whatever was troubling him when he spent some time with the Bronco. And today was no exception. 
"I'm going to miss you, too."
Sometimes it felt like the nearly five years you and he had been married were just spent alternating deployments. First he would be gone on an aircraft carrier for months on end, and then it would be your turn. You'd be sent abroad with the Navy before returning to him, and then the cycle would begin anew. Everything felt harder when you weren't around, and maybe that's why Bradley was out on the driveway right now instead of helping you pack for your early call time tomorrow morning. 
With your cheek pressed to his sternum, you cried softly. "It's only two months this time. And I'll have access to my phone. And I'll even be home in time for our anniversary. I don't know why I'm feeling so emotional about this."
He pressed his lips to your hair and whispered, "It's not like it gets any easier. You know that. I know that. It's going to feel like two months of hell on my end."
You sniffed hard then looked up at him with a little smirk. "At least you'll have the Bronco to keep you warm."
Bradley groaned and started to walk you backwards toward the house. "I mean, she's pretty and all, and I've definitely spent a night or two curled up around her gear shift, but I never gave her a diamond ring."
Your lips and your soft laughter against his neck sent a jolt of physical pleasure through his body, but he didn't want to rush this. He needed this to last, to hold him over for two months without your touch. Both of you tripped along to the bedroom where he smiled and whispered, "Let me show you that you're my number one girl. Let me prove you always will be."
Bradley was meticulous. He knew every inch of his Bronco, inside and out, but he knew you better. The sounds you made were prettier. The way you clung to him as he brought you pleasure was unparalleled. Your fingers laced with his as he connected his body with yours in the most intimate way, and it left him breathless.
"I love you."
-----------------------
Two days. He'd only been alone for two days, and he was already halfway through binge watching a season of a show that wasn't even that interesting. When he got home from work, he eyed up the couch and TV before ultimately changing into some sweats and heading back out to the driveway. He looked over the Bronco from hood to taillights, making a mental list of what she needed: new wiper blades, two new tires, and an oil change.
When he took his phone out to order the parts from his favorite website, he must have typed something wrong. It rerouted him to a vintage Ford resale page that left him staring at a sage green 1975 Bronco in rough condition. Man, she was still pretty though, with her original chrome and hubcaps. She was just an hour away, and the price wasn't too bad...
He glanced up at the blue gem in front of him. An idea started to take shape. He wondered how you would feel about it. With a smile, he ordered the wiper blades and oil filter that he needed and went inside to make dinner. But he couldn't stop picturing that chipped, green paint, and the vinyl that needed to be patched. 
If he knew he could get you hooked on a Bronco of your very own, he'd make this purchase. Two months to go. Shit, he might have just enough time to pull this off. He could practically picture you cranking the engine to life and waving goodbye as you pulled out of the driveway and took your Bronco for a spin. He wouldn't be able to say it with a straight face, but he'd say it anyway. "You love that thing more than you love me, Baby."
When he was stretched out on your side of the bed later that night, enveloped in your sweet scent that clung to the pillows, he closed his eyes and thought long and hard about what he wanted to do. It would be fun to prove to you once and for all where his loyalties lie. Or maybe it could just be a project that would keep him busy, and if you didn't like the idea, he could resell it after you got home. Either way, he drifted to sleep as he thought about you behind the wheel, and he knew it was too perfect to pass up.
----------------------
"Hey, Baby," Bradley said with a smirk as he answered his phone.
"Bradley! I miss you like crazy!"
"I miss you, too," he promised as he looked at the rather beat up, green Bronco before him. He got it for a great price when he offered to pay cash, and the tow truck just dropped it off a few days ago. Half of the engine was taken apart on a tarp at his feet, and it was currently jacked up so he could replace the oil pan. But he thought it was gorgeous. "I have a little surprise for you when you get home."
"A surprise?! Tell me. You know I can't wait that long."
"Nah," he said, kneeling down to check the wiring for the headlights. "I think I'll make you wait this one out."
"Rooster!"
"What?" he laughed, wedging the phone between his shoulder and his ear as he slipped his work gloves on and pulled at the loose wire. "You know, this is what you get for always giving me a hard time about my dad's Bronco. I love you so much, Baby, I'll make you wait for the surprise. It'll be sweeter that way."
"You're the worst," you groaned playfully. "Now I'll be thinking about what it could possibly be the whole time I'm gone. I'll be wondering what you have up your sleeve."
"As long as you're thinking about me, I'm happy," he rasped, and your pretty sigh in response left him a little breathless.
"I'm always thinking about you. Promise me as soon as I get back, we'll go for a long drive? Up along the coast? Late at night?"
He loved that idea. It would just look a little different than you were probably imagining if he could get this thing up and running again in time for your return. "We'll make a night of it," he promised. "I'll pack some blankets, and we can sit in the back and look out at the ocean. Can't guarantee I'll be able to keep my hands to myself though."
"Mmm. That's what I'm counting on."
----------------------
After about two weeks of watching a lot of YouTube videos posted by professionals, Bradley finally had the engine rebuilt. He was just waiting for some parts to arrive before he could put it back in place. "You're a needy one, aren't you?" he asked the green Bronco. "Nothing like her. She's a saint." He nodded his head toward the blue one before kneeling to replace the taillights. 
He was quickly realizing that the money he saved on the cost of the actual vehicle was being eaten up in the expensive, vintage parts. He was lucky he knew how to do most of this himself, even if it took twice as long. Today he was replacing the brakes and listening to a Motown playlist, and he fully realized that he felt calmest when he was with you or a Bronco. He snorted at how ridiculous that fact was as he scooted under the vehicle, but it was true. And having you tucked away in the back with the tailgate dropped, all wrapped up in a blanket while you turned him on just by existing.... well, that's when he would be happiest of all.
As the weeks wore on and the project progressed, the day finally arrived when it was time to try to start her up and take her for a little drive. Everything smelled like new rubber from the tires he'd just put on. The vinyl seats were still in bad shape, but when he slipped the key into the ignition and turned it, the engine purred to life.
Bradley's head tipped back as he groaned softly. "So fucking pretty. My god." He tapped the accelerator gently with his foot, enjoying the rev of the engine. He smoothed his hands along the steering wheel and the dashboard before he adjusted the rear view mirror to accommodate his height. Then he flicked the chrome switch and turned on the radio which he was surprised still worked.
My Girl by the Temptations poured from the speakers as the station crackled to life, and that felt like a very good sign. "Let's get out of here, Sweetheart," he whispered before shifting into reverse and leaving the driveway and his toolbox behind.
She was smooth and steady and everything he was hoping for. Would it ever fully compete with Goose's Bronco? Probably not. Was it worth the investment anyway? He'd find out next week when you got home. There were just a few things left to do before he dropped it off to be repainted and have the interior patched, and then she'd be good as new.
Bradley's phone rang in his pocket, and he smiled when he saw it was you. "Hey, Baby."
"Bradley! I miss you so much. I swear, if this thing was longer than two months, I wouldn't make it. What are you up to?"
"Oh, I'm just out for a little drive."
--------------------------
After eight weeks of nothing more than a few scant phone calls, Bradley was more than ready to have you home again. Maybe you and he could take a few days off from work. He'd help you catch up on some sleep after initially keeping you up all night. He already had some blankets ready to go as soon as you said you wanted to drive up to Carlsbad and watch the surfers at sunset before making love in the back of your Bronco.
Your Bronco. His wife's Bronco. It would take some getting used to, but it already made him smile every time he thought about it. With his hands on that familiar steering wheel, he drove toward the Naval base where both of you spent so much of your time. He waited, leaning against the light blue hood until you came running toward him in your uniform with your bags.
"Bradley!" you shrieked as you landed in his arms where you belonged. 
"I missed you," he promised, finally kissing your lips again after so many weeks. He felt your bag hit his foot, and he smiled as he tilted your face up for better access to your mouth.
"I missed you, too," you moaned softly, and he was already making the move to get you back home and remind you what you meant to him. But you dug your feet in outside the passenger door. 
"Where's my surprise?" you asked as you tucked your fingers into the top of his jeans and grinned up at him. "I've been thinking about it nonstop. Is it you?"
"No," he replied with a chuckle as his gaze drifted toward the Bronco. "You'll see soon enough."
You glanced at where he was looking, and you rolled your eyes before kissing his chin. "Did she keep you company while I was gone? She looks pristine, like you spend some time working on her."
Bradley kissed your forehead. "Just get in, Baby," he rasped. "The sooner we get home, the sooner your little surprise will make sense."
He knew the routine by heart now. The short ride home would start out with you holding his right hand and playing with his fingers while he drove. Then your hand would migrate to his thigh when the Bronco was about five blocks away. Then as soon as the tires touched the driveway, you'd unbuckle your seatbelt and make your way over to his lap.
The routine was important to him. He loved it. He loved taking you inside and directly to bed before coming back out much later to get the bags. He thrived on the return to normal life that was triggered by the routine. But today, he knew you weren't going to end up on his lap, and that was more than okay.
When your hand settled on his thigh exactly five blocks away from home, Bradley smiled. Your fingers crept up inch by inch as you leaned closer and whispered in his ear that you had their fifth wedding anniversary all planned out for the following weekend. You were playing with the zipper of his jeans by the time he could see the house, and he just waited for it. He was not disappointed.
"What the fuck is that?" you gasped, both hands going to the dashboard in front of you as you leaned to check out the freshly painted green Bronco as he coasted into the driveway. "Bradley?" you asked, glancing at him with wide eyes as he shifted into park.
He smiled and leaned over to kiss your softly parted lips. "This is your surprise. You're always joking about how much I love my Bronco, but I'll never love anything more than I love you."
You pressed your lips to his once before pulling away, shaking your head slightly. "So you got me one of my own?" you asked, jerking your thumb toward the green one.
He nodded and pulled his key from the ignition before pressing it into your palm. "Yep. She's all yours."
"Wait," you whispered, your brow creasing in confusion as you looked down at your hand. "This is your key."
"No, it's your key. The key to the green one is in the house. That's my key."
You gaped at him as your eyebrows shot upwards. "You're giving me your Bronco?"
"Yep."
"But," you whispered, turning to look out the window, "I can drive the other one."
"No, I bought the green one with myself in mind," he replied, taking your chin gently in his hand so you were looking at him again. "This one's better. She's sweet. Like you. She's yours."
"Oh my god, Bradley."
He was wrong; you did end up in his lap. Right where you belonged. His hands settled at your hips as you kissed every inch of his face while he laughed.
"I want to take her for a spin," you whispered, nudging him out of the driver's seat with your knee. "Go."
He smiled as he walked around to the passenger side of the blue Bronco, and he barely had the door closed before you started the engine and shifted into gear. "Pretty soon you'll love this thing more than you love me, Baby."
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He gave you his Bronco. The green one was for him. That's how you know he loves you. I hope they do some nasty shit in the green one to break it in. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
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haroldtea · 10 months
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everyone in my life is always sooooo concerned with how i speak and how i come across and how sensitive i’m being to others and criticizing me for being condescending and telling me how not to act around them in order to keep their friendship and the same courtesy is rarely ever shown to me
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augustinewrites · 1 year
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sweet nothing ft the fushigojos to make up for the last fic i wrote for them heh
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gojo satoru was not made for domesticity. this has always been something you've known, something you've accepted.
you're just not sure that he has.
it's a little past midnight when he trudges into your bedroom, tired lines creasing his pretty face as he shuffles around the room. he greets you with a quiet hey, and a peck on the forehead before stripping off his uniform, tossing it into the basket with a little more force than necessary.
you raise a brow at him, but stay quiet as he stalks into the bathroom. in the years that you've been together, you've learned better than to back an emotionally repressed sorcerer into a corner and force him to say how he's feeling. especially one who’s just gotten back from assignment.
you try and fail to return to the novel you were reading, staring blankly at the page until gojo steps out. his hair is damp, a towel slung low around his waist as he digs around in the closet for underwear.
there’s no pageantry, no winks or eyebrow waggles or light teasing of, like what you see? stuff that would usually make you roll your eyes, but that you suddenly realize has been missing lately.
okay, something is definitely wrong.
so you shut your book, placing it on the nightstand as he crawls into bed next to you. he says nothing, simply reaching across you to flick off your lamp and plunge the room into darkness.
it’s with a heavy sigh that he rests his head in your lap, grabbing your hand and plopping it into his hair before hugging your legs.
"i can't go to okinawa with you guys tomorrow.”
“satoru,” you can’t help but frown, carding your fingers through his hair. “we’ve been planning this trip for months.”
“i know, i’m sorry,” he says, strained. “you should just take the kids without me. take shoko, or something. megumi’s already stocked up on his spf, and tsumiki was really looking forward to picking seashells—”
“satoru,” you interrupt when you catch his voice break. “are you— are you okay?”
he’s crying, you realize when he doesn’t respond, instead pushing his head deeper into your lap, muttering, “no.”
“talk to me,” you murmur, smoothing your hand down his spine.
"i don't want the kids to think that i didn't want to go."
"you've been talking about seeing me in a bikini for weeks, i think they know how badly you wanted to go."
your comment pulls a small laugh out of him, but it's still interrupted by a sniffle.
"what's this really about?" you ask softly.
"i've been...missing things lately," he mutters quietly. "little league games, piano recitals, science fairs. i leave before they're awake, i get back when they're about to go to bed."
sorcerers who are referred to as 'the strongest' don't get days off. they go where they're needed, when they're needed.
"you know they don't hold any of that against you."
"i know," he says, sitting up to look at you. "but i don't want them - or you - to feel like i'm not choosing you. because i would, but i can't. and i'm just tired. of all of it--"
you wrap your arms around him when his voice breaks once more, pulling him into a hug. he reciprocates immediately, hiding his face in the crook of your neck as he releases a shaky sigh.
"it's not just about being there for the big things," you murmur. "it's about...being there when they need you to be. i can't hit a baseball to save my life, so you're the one who takes them the park to practice. you're the one who taught tsumiki how to read sheet music, and found a way to explain the concept of infinity to a ten year old so he could win the science fair."
without him, there would be no little league games, piano recitals, or science fairs to attend.
"besides, we can always go on vacation some other time," you assure him, rubbing circles across his back. "it's not worth it if you're not with us."
_____
satoru wakes to the sound of muffled laughter. a quick glance at the alarm clock on his nightstand confirms that it's 7am.
the lack of warmth pressed into his side tells him you're up too. it's rare that anyone is awake before he is, especially on weekends or days that he's set to depart. he can hear bits of your conversation with the kids as he gets ready for the day, changing into his uniform and shoving clothes into a bag.
"what shape should i try to make?" he hears you ask. ah, you must be making pancakes.
"a heart!" tsumiki suggests.
"japan!" megumi argues.
he knows you're going to make both. you're doing so when he saunters onto the scene, humming along to whatever song tsumiki's put on the record player as you drop chocolate chips into the batter.
he sweeps your hair away from your neck, dipping his head down to press a kiss to the nape of your neck.
then he turns to the kids, who are in the process of setting the table. "did, uh, you guys already talk about okinawa?"
tsumiki nods, but megumi just shrugs, wrinkling his nose. "there are a lot of jellyfish there anyway."
he of course goes on to inform everyone of the different kinds of jellyfish and all the horrible ways they could kill you. tsumiki chimes in to say that they won't attack unless they're bothered.
you press a mug of coffee into his hand, standing on the tip of your toes to kiss to his cheek before joining the kids at the table with a plate of pancakes.
the scene that unfolds in front of him is a simple one, but one that he's dreamed of all his life. a family sitting together for a meal, laughing and chatting about things that don't really matter.
the world's always going to need him. but this? this is all he needs.
because gojo satoru wasn't made for domesticity, but for his family? he'll try.
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urrockstar-xe · 5 months
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math test - p.parker x fem!reader
posted jan 27th, 2024 3:28 pm
came up with this cutesy idea the other day, hope u enjoy :)
summary: Peter's tired of allowing Spider-Man to be a shitty boyfriend, so he makes up for it the only way he can think of that wouldn't get you in trouble.
masterlist
not proofread
wordcount: 0.8k
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It was nearing 2 in the morning when Peter slowly lifted his window open from the outside, not so gracefully falling inside once it was a wide enough gap, followed by him stumbling several times as he tried to close his window while simultaneously trying to take off the red and blue spandex suit that so badly needs a wash.
The sound of his old bed frame creaking caught Peter’s attention once he finally pulled on some sweatpants. 
He whipped around, his gaze immediately falling to your half-asleep figure in his bed, a familiar sight now, one Peter had adored. Your half-opened eyes tried to focus on his silhouette. 
“Shit, hey sweetheart I didn’t mean to wake you” Peter’s whispered apology was laced with a soft muffled tone as he pulled a hoodie over his head, not bothering to fix his hair as he made his way towards his bed. “Didn’t know you were sleepin’ over tonight” He said with a tired smile playing on his lips, the bags under his eyes failing to distract you from the beauty that was your sleep-deprived boyfriend as you merely scooted over for him to join you. 
“Supposed to help me study for that test” you mumbled, no malice in your voice, no hints of irritation, not even a slight sadness to your voice at the thought of him forgetting about your plans. All you cared about at this moment was your boyfriend cuddling with you, using all your energy to open your arms for him to slide into. 
Peter stopped dead in his tracks, looking down by the nightstand and seeing your backpack on the floor, a math book sitting on the floor beside it next to a few pens. So that’s what he tripped on when he came in.
“Oh, man. I’m sorry, doll. We can work on it first thing in the morning, swear.” Peter promised, giving into what you wanted and sliding in bed next to you, wasting no time in wrapping you in his arms. 
“It’s due tomorrow, and I have to leave early for that dumb field trip.” You mumbled into his shoulder, not meaning to but making Peter feel all the worse for forgetting as he softly smoothed his hand up and down your back.
~
By the time Peter woke up the next morning you had already left, leaving behind a note on his desk.
”don’t think too hard about that test, I’ll just ask if I can have extended time on it. I’m just happy you got home safe” 
The little hearts surrounding your name at the bottom and the emphasis on him getting back at all seemed to have the opposite effect on Peter than you had intended. 
As now, he just seemed more determined to fix this problem he had made.
~
You laughed as your friend lifted her arms into the air, taking in a big deep breath as you both finally got off the bus, “freedom!” she exclaimed. 
“We have that test in like 30 minutes” You reminded her with a smile, earning a glare in response. “Buzzkill”
You chuckled this time, before watching her lift her finger and point behind you, turning as you followed where she was pointing, “that’s geek charming, what’s he doin’ here?” she asked quietly, expecting you to have an answer as you watched your boyfriend hurry over to you, green folder in his hand. 
“No clue, I’ll meet you inside” You smiled at her, watching her nod and smile back in response, walking backward towards the school while she obnoxiously waves and says “Hi, Peter!” 
Peter waved back, finally in front of you as he turned his gaze to see you already looking at him, with a soft smile. 
“Hey,” Peter matched your smile, holding out the folder to you before you could respond. “For your test, you forgot your math stuff in my room, so” 
You smiled, taking it gratefully, “Thanks, Petey. Although I don’t know how much help it’ll be-” Peter cut you off, “I mapped out in your notebook exactly how you can find any answers for the test and explained it in notes how I knew you’d be able to understand” You looked at him in awe as he rambled, watching as he took off his backpack and fumbled with it before pulling out your math notebook and handing it to you. “Peter-” “I almost wish I could take the test for you, I’ve just had so much to do lately as you know who and that’s no excuse for ditching my best girl when she needed my help so I figured this was the least I could do” Peter continued, taking a breath once he had finished. 
You set the folder and notebook down on the grass, pulling Peter into a tight embrace. “This is nice” he mumbled into your shoulder, squeezing your waist ever so slightly. “I love you, Peter Parker” You mumbled back, pulling back just enough to set a soft kiss to his lips. 
“I love you more, now go pass your test and make me proud, you can do that, can’t you, sweetheart?” Peter smiled at you, chuckling as you placed one, two, three more kisses on his mouth before pulling away and grabbing your stuff. 
“When I pass, you’re buying me dinner, baby!” You said, beginning to walk away.
“Whatever you want, doll!”
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familyvideostevie · 6 months
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day after tomorrow
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joel miller x reader
summary: joel drops you off and picks you up from the airport. you are definitely falling in love with him. 
warnings: modern no outbreak au, game!joel or hbo!joel, fluff, really just a fluff fest honestly, new-ish relationship, falling in love, sweet enough to make your teeth ache | 2.7k
A/N: this is a christmas gift for my dear friend @strangerfreaks who makes my life better in every way possible. i love you! hope you enjoy this <3
___
He's leaning on the side of the truck when you hurry outside with your stuff. 
"Morning," you call. It's barely that, sky still dark and air still carrying the bite of the night's chill. 
Joel straightens up and gives you a tired smile. Most of his smiles are tired but they're always genuine when directed at you. He tugs the backpack from your shoulder and presses his lips to your cheek, beard scratching your skin gently. 
"Howdy," he says in your ear before pulling away.
The travel mug Joel pushes into your hands is warm to the touch. 
"Tea," he says before you can tell him it's too early for coffee. His voice is deeper than usual, still warming up from sleep. It's not a cup from the local shop -- they're not open yet -- so he must have made it at home. "No caffeine before flights." 
"You remembered?" 
He gives you an unimpressed look and grabs your bags. They go in the backseat of his truck and he jerks his chin at the passenger door. "Get in. S'chilly."
It's also early. So early you were not going to ask him to drive you to the airport but when you mentioned you had to go on a work trip he offered. Insisted, actually, once he found out what time you needed to get there.
"You ain't takin' a cab that early," he had said. "Hell, you ain't takin' a cab home, neither. I'll pick you up."
This thing between you isn't new anymore, not exactly, but it's not solid yet. It doesn't have a name. But it's been a few months and you know what his sheets smell like and the feel of him pressed against you in the middle of the night and how he laughs with his head thrown back, mouth wide and eyes creased at the corners. He likes to take you on long walks around the lake a few towns over and you know all about his daughters even if you haven't met them yet. Your life feels a little more solid with Joel in it and the swell of your heart in your chest when you talk to him, when you see him, when he looks at you, is a welcome feeling. It's nice to want and be wanted in return. 
The inside of his truck is warm, your seat heater already turned on. The radio is down to a low hum and there's a silver cup similar to your own in the holder between the seats. Joel gets back into the truck with a slight groan and glances at you to see if you've got your seatbelt on before he clicks his. 
"Ready?" he asks. You nod. He settles his hand on your headrest and looks out the back windshield as he reverses the truck out of the driveway. "Shouldn't hit much traffic," he says. 
You take a sip of your tea and watch him as he drives out of your neighborhood and towards the highway. Part of you wishes you would hit traffic so you could look at him longer. Even in the dark you know his face pretty well by now. His hair is getting a little long, the dark threaded through with some grey and falling over his perpetually lined forehead. The scar on the bridge of his nose that you love to run your finger across and the bruises under his eyes from too many nights up late working on site plans and employee schedules. You don't think you've met a man who works as hard as Joel, and yet here he is driving you to the airport when he could be sleeping. 
Maybe it's because he's tired or maybe it's because it's dark or maybe it's because you're leaving for a few days but Joel lets you look without teasing. His eyes catch yours for just a second and he smirks.
"Why don't you drink coffee before a flight?" He takes a sip of his own thermos. You watch his throat work as he swallows and look away this time. The sky is starting to look purple out your window, the trees and fields and occasional buildings flying by too fast for your eyes to settle on anything. Joel drinks coffee like it's water. You're still leaning things about each other -- most days you find yourself thinking that you want to be learning things about him for the rest of your life -- and this is a new topic of conversation. You haven't had to be on a plane since you met him.
"I don't really like flying," you say. "Makes me nervous. I figure caffeine will just make it worse."
"Don't like it much either." You look at him again and find see smirk turn to a frown as he merges onto the nearly empty highway. "You gonna be okay?"
He asks like it's within his power to make flying something enjoyable, to cancel your work trip, to squash everything in this world that makes you nervous. Mostly you're just glad he's not teasing you about it. Maybe someday you can take a trip and be grumpy about it together.
"I'll be fine, Joel."
"Hm."
He rests an elbow against the window and rakes his hand through his hair.
"What are you up to this week?" you ask. 
He sighs. "Not much," he says. "Lumber shipment but Tommy's handlin' it. Ellie says her shower head is actin' funny so I'll go to her place and look at that. Probably sit my ass on the couch and try to watch a damn football game or somethin'."
"So what I'm hearing is you're going to miss me." It's meant to be a tease but it comes out a bit more earnest than you'd like. 
He sends you that unamused look of his but the mirth in his eyes betrays him, tells you he sees through it. You're learning that he's good at that -- seeing what you really mean, what you really want, who you really are, all the way down to the core. "Course I will," he says. "What man wouldn't miss cold hands bein' stuck up his shirt when he gets in bed?"
You scoff and Joel snickers. You could remind him how he usually catches your hands in his before you make it to his hemline on the rare nights he does wear a shirt, how he cradles your fingers and blows on them softly while rubbing them with his perpetually warm palms. The memory makes your breath hitch just a bit. 
It's only three days. Some conference your boss wanted you to go to in his stead. It won't require much of you -- you just have to attend a few panels, a dinner or two, and schmooze a little bit. You'll be back before you know it. You tell yourself it's silly to feel this apprehension at the distance, the time apart. But you're used to Joel by now and damn if you won't miss him. Used to him taking up space in your kitchen, used to his arm around you on the couch, used to his short texts and heavy gaze. You know by now that it's only a matter of time before you love him.  
"I'll miss you, too," you say softly. Joel eyes you, smirk turned soft again and reaches for you. He settles his palm on your thigh and you cover your hand with his. 
When you get to the airport aren't many cars around and you're pretty sure the attendants won't yell at you for idling. Joel seems to think the same thing as he gets out of the truck to set your luggage on the ground. You leave your now-empty to-go mug in his car and throw your arms around him when he gets to the curb with your suitcase. His chest rumbles in amusement but he hugs you back, one palm rubbing between your shoulder blades until you pull away. 
"Thank you for --"
"Nope," he interrupts you. "No thanks allowed." He hands you your backpack and you shoulder it. "I'll pick you up on Wednesday," he says. 
You wave him off. "I get in way too late, don't worry about it --"
His hand cups your cheek and the words sputter out in your throat. "I'll be here," he says again. 
"I'll call you," you say. "When I get there." It sounds like a question.
His eyes crinkle at the corners. "Please do."
"Thanks for the tea --"
"Now, what did I just say?"
You wrinkle your nose at him and he rolls his eyes before leaning in to press his lips to yours. You sigh into the kiss just a little though it remains chaste, mouths closed as his thumb strokes your cheek once, twice, before he pulls away. It's the kind of kiss that feels fond, feels familiar. A kiss that becomes routine and for a second you imgaine the press of your mouths a thousand times over just like this. 
"Safe flight, sweetheart."
You smile at him and grab your suitcase before you stand here kissing him all day. "Bye, Joel." 
6:04 am: you make it to your gate okay?
You send him a picture of your breakfast sandwich and the sun rising through the window, painting the sky purple and orange. 
6:05 am: don't text and drive!
He replies with a photo of a full mug of coffee on his counter. It's a silly one, a dinosaur wearing a Santa hat. You think Sarah got it for him as a gag gift. 
6:05 am: home already. let me know when you land
6:06 am: will do. have a good day!
The flight is pretty okay. You spend the bumpy moments thinking about Joel's hand on your leg and get through it just fine. A shuttle takes you to your hotel and you have to hurry a bit to be ready for your first panel. 
You're busy all day. So tired by the time you get back to your room that you flop on the bed with a groan. 
"Ugh," you say, face smushed into the sheets. You're tired and hungry and...you miss Joel and feel a little silly about it.
That sense of puppy love, as most people would call it, hasn't faded. Your feelings for Joel are more than the crush they were when you first started seeing each other but they still linger in the realm of infatuation. You like to look at him, to feel the solid warmth of him beside you, above you, underneath you. You like being near him. But you're also starting to love things. You love the way his voice sounds when he wakes up, the way he says your name over the phone, the way he asks you what you want, how you are, how your day was. You love to see him on your couch, in your kitchen, in your bed. You've started to miss him when he's not around. 
And what you said to him in his truck is true. You do miss him. It's an ache that sits in the center of your chest, an ache that feels like the best kind of bruise -- because it comes from something good. And because you know it'll be soothed soon enough. 
But, because you're only human, you doubt that it's as serious for him. Joel keeps his cards close to his chest and while you feel like you know him pretty well by now you also have so much to learn. So, though you really want to, you don't pick up the phone and call him. Maybe the next time you're away. 
7:54 pm: day 1 done! ready to get in bed. why do men talk so much?
He texts back immediately. 
7:54 pm: god knows. don't forget to order room service on the company dime. sweet dreams.
You laugh and do as he says. 
The rest of the conference goes the same. By day three you're exhausted and your face hurts from smiling at so many people. Your shoes are no longer comfortable and as soon as the closing keynote ends you're out of there, changing into soft clothes and taking the shuttle to the airport. You text Joel a picture of your airport dinner and then your eye bags and he replies with a cute that has you giggling a little too loudly in public. 
You just want to get home to him. Your own bed is a bonus. 
But then your flight gets delayed. Twice. Joel tells you not to worry, he'll pick you up in the middle of the night if he has to. Once you board you get stuck on the tarmac for another half hour before finally taking off. It's a decidedly less relaxing experience because you're so anxious to be home but you make it. When you land it feels like you're sitting in your seat for ages. You're tired and feel gross and you want to go to bed. Your phone turns back on and you've got one text waiting for you.
10:34 pm: i'll be by baggage claim
That was 15 minutes ago. He must have been checking your flight in the air to get here at a reasonable time. God, you want to touch him. You want to stick your nose in his neck and inhale. 
You try very hard not to run through the terminal to the escalator that goes down to arrivals. It seems to move really fucking slowly once you're on it. As soon as it gets far enough for you to see the baggage claim level and everyone waiting there your eyes search for him. You see some families, a few tired children sleeping in arms that hold them tenderly. A group of girls with a sign that reads WELCOME HOME RACHEL!
And then there's Joel.
Once you spot him it's hard to keep a smile from your face. He's standing there with his hands in his pockets, eyes glued to the escalator. Jeans, jacket, boots, and a firm set to his jaw that might be intimidating to anyone else but to you it's familiar. It's him. Once he sees you he stands a little taller and you see his cheek twitch. If someone wasn't in front of you you'd be down the steps in seconds but you wait until you're at the bottom to race forward. 
It's probably a bit dramatic. You drop your suitcase and backpack at your feet in front of him.
"Hi," you say, and then you throw your arms around his shoulders. Joel laughs. 
"S'like you're comin' home from war, or somethin'," he says, though his hugs you back just as tightly. "Should'a made a sign."
"Feels like it." Your words are muffled by his shoulder. 
"That bad, huh?" His palm drags up and down your spine. "Let's get you home, then."
Neither of you pull away. "I missed you," you say softly. 
Joel breathes deep and pulls away, hand on the back of your head as he makes sure you're looking at him. 
"Missed you, too," he says gruffly. Then he kisses you. It's less chaste than your goodbye kiss but still perfectly acceptable for airport arrivals, you think. 
"You hungry?"
"I sent you a picture of my dinner!"
"Not what I asked." You shrug and tangle your fingers with his. His thumb strokes the back of your hand. "We'll get you somethin' on the way home."
"Do you want to stay over?" you ask in a rush, realizing too late he's got no reason to want to. It's late and tomorrow is a workday. "I'm just gonna shower and go to bed but I--"
Joel's nostrils flare. "If you want me to I will." Simple as that. 
"Okay," you say. He squeezes your hand.
You walk in easy silence for a few moments. Once you're in the car you'll ask how his week was, tell him about the gossip you learned at the conference. You'll look at him the entire drive to your place, drinking your fill of him after three days without. Yeah, you're going to love him. It's just a matter of time.
"Thank you for coming to get me," you say. 
Joel looks like he wants to argue but he allows it.
"Anytime," he says. It sounds like a promise. 
thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!
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luveline · 7 months
Note
Hi lovely!
Can you please do one where Hotch and Reader are in a fight and it gets heated and he maybe raises his hand just because he’s shouting and she flinches?
He would be prepared to FIGHT whoever made his honey feel that way 🗣️🗣️
💘
for you my sweetheart. fem, 1k
cw implied past domestic violence 
“It was right,” you're saying, on the defensive, your voice molten, “it was the thing to do!” 
“It wasn't.” Hotch closes the door. “It wasn't the right thing to do, it wasn't even close.” 
You realise, under everything, that he's right, but you couldn't help yourself, you had to try and save the day, had to swerve the SUV. Plus, he's done it himself, and you both know that. “If Monikie got out of that exit we never would've seen her again.” 
“There were roadblocks on the I–46, and I don't think I have to tell you that you could've gotten a lot of people seriously hurt–” 
“You've done worse,” you deny.
His expression, broadly furious, narrows into something sharper, “And that is my decision to make, but you report to me.” 
“You can't seriously want to act like a boss now,” you say. 
The room isn't overly large, and so you stand close to one another with no need for shouting, but your voices begin to overlap. Hotch is so angry. It isn't like him to yell at you, his voice strained. 
“You can't truly think that the decision you made today was the right one. You need to calm down, and you need to listen to me when I tell you that this was the wrong move. We'll talk about it more tomorrow.” 
“You're shrugging me off?” You could laugh. “You can't be serious. Every member of this team has done the same, or worse–” 
“But they're not you!” His voice peeks, his hand jolting out in front of his chest, flat-palmed in incredulity. 
You're really quite close to each other. 
It's not his fault. 
You step back, desperate to be away from the movement, the hand, because it doesn't register as his hand, only there's a chair behind you and a table behind that and you bump into the plastic with a creak and screech. You're righting yourself as quickly as you're tripping but Hotch is already moving away. Three steps that feel like a gorge. 
Your heartbeat soars. 
“Are you okay?” he asks quietly. 
“Of course.” You breathe out funny. It's not his fault, but there's something wired in your brain now, and it knows that the first strike isn't the last. Your hand shakes as you brush at an itch under your eyes. 
“I'm not mad,” he says. 
“You sounded pretty mad."
“I've changed my mind.” He gives you a long hard look, and then he moves to the office door to open it before returning to his initial position. He's given you an exit route. “I'm not going to hurt you,” he says. 
You put your hands on your hips and bend at the waist, breathing out hard. “Fuck, I know that."
“You thought I might.” 
“So profile me,” you say, panicking still, face hot and itchy all over. “Tell me why.” 
“Someone's hit you before. Enough to anticipate the second blow.” 
“But you knew that already, didn't you?” 
Your ears get cloudy like there's water in them and you can't stand the feeling of Hotch's gaze on the back of your head. You force yourself into a standing position and try to ignore what happened. 
“You're unfairly angry with me,” you say. 
Hotch just shakes his head at you. 
“It's… It's not a big deal,” you say, quieter. He already knew because of course he did, every member of the team gets checked. You have records, and he's in a position of power unlike most, he could've read them like the morning paper. 
“Why would you say that?” 
“I can still do my job.” 
“I wasn't going to suggest you couldn't.” 
Then why… why is he looking at you like that? You're humiliated enough, and his gaze is so… so soft. So sorry. Tears gather warm behind your eyes and your chest aches like you've been holding your breath. You frown, eyebrows lifting at the starts, not knowing if you should beg him to forget the whole thing or finally give in. 
“Come here,” he says gently. Completely optional, his fingertips twitching but stationery at his side. 
You stare resolutely at your shoes. 
“I'm sorry I scared you, it wasn't my intention. I can imagine how it feels. I'm not mad, honey,” he says. His voice drops to a murmur, “Come here,” he pleads. 
You take a clumsy handful of steps and he meets you in the middle, arms going carefully over your shoulders. You'd feel condescended by it if it weren't shockingly nice to be considered in such a way, or if the solid mass of his arms around you didn't soothe. You feel protected rather than boxed in, held, and not restrained. 
His hand slides open down the length of your back.
“I'm sorry I scared you,” he repeats, for your ears alone. 
“It's not like it was really you that scared me.” 
The memory scared you. The flinch was instinctive, less to do with Hotch and more to do with the connection between a moving hand and stinging pain. 
He hangs his head by your ear until his nose touches your shoulder, and for a few seconds, it's just you and him together, no fighting, and no fast-approaching hands. 
“You didn't scare me,” you mumble, hiding your face in his shoulder instead, forcing him to stand tall. 
Incoming footsteps cut your embrace short, but he doesn't pull away too swiftly. His hands grave the lengths of your arms, and he gives you a long, loaded look. Before you can calibrate the action to the man, he's chucking you under the chin, a stroke of his index knuckle, a promise of more to say. 
He catches Morgan before he can enter the room and directs him back out. “Take a minute,” he advises you. 
You sit in a chair and do as he's offered. Memory is a tricky thing. 
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riverwalsh · 4 months
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nicole my love !
where do you stand on brat tamer!frank …… would he be quick to react? grabbing your jaw after you give him attitude, raising his eyebrows at you with a warning “watch the mouth, yeah?” in that thick raspy voice? or is he rubbing a warm hand in circles on your lower back, quietly muttering a “don’t gotta act out for attention, baby.” i need 2 knooooow 🤗
— princessbrunette ♡
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an; thank u for the request princess, sorry it took so long but i love u dearly 🤍 i always seem to take your requests in a little crazy direction so just bear with me (also note to everyone please ignore the verb tense changing like halfway through it turned into something of a drabble and i don’t feel like fixing it. so enjoy.)
cw; female!reader, mentions of blood/violence, cockwarming. that’s about it.
18+ only mdni
i think frank would be pretty good at reading you. he knows what makes you itch; like when he leaves his boots, carelessly splattered with the blood of a lowlife (or three) that will surely be named in tomorrow morning’s newspaper, strewn haphazardly on the living room floor for you to trip over when you get home. or, when you ask him about said lowlife(s) and he brushes you off, mumbling something about how it doesn’t matter anyways, and they got what was coming to them, before disappearing for the third night that week. it makes you feel so goddamn lonely.
it was these things, among others of course. sometimes frank castle was just so goddamn stubborn it made your skin crawl.
buuuut, frank also knows what makes you feel better. knows how to handle you when you start letting your irritation show. he’d just accept your little quips and snide remarks for a while. let you take out just a little bit your pent up frustration out on him—i mean, he kinda deserves it sometimes, right? he knows this, you know this. and yet, he knew exactly when to make it right.
“fuck you, frank,” you muttered as you frantically pulled your shoes on, already late for work. everything had already gone wrong for you that morning—your first alarm didn’t go off, your shower was lukewarm at best, and you burnt your last bagel. and now, as you were ready to leave, frank suddenly decided he wanted to talk.
“whoa, whoa, whoa, hey.” his tone was firm, a hand coming out as if in warning. as annoyed as you got, you hardly ever swore at frank. “what’s wrong with you?”
there he is.
“what’s wrong with me?” you asked incredulously, grabbing your keys off the hook. “wha- what’s wrong with you?! you’re fucking gone almost every night this week, i’m getting calls from karen practically every five minutes-”
“she’s just-“
“don’t you fucking dare play dumb like you didn’t ask her to check in on me,” you cut him off quickly, pointing an accusing finger at him. you knew how you were being but you couldn’t help it at this point. “i can handle myself, frank. maybe if you just told me what the fuck was going on i could just-”
“you could just what? hm?” his voice was quiet, but commanding. his arms crossed in front of him as he postured intimidatingly toward you, eyebrows raised in a silent challenge to keep talking. your mouth snapped shut immediately, heart jumping as you lowered your hand that was still hovering mid-air.
you swallowed thickly, putting your keys into your bag with less of a rush, suddenly more careful of your movements. he watched you thoughtfully for a moment, before slowly making his way toward you, boots heavy as they met the hardwood below. you could do nothing but stare at him as he came closer, irritation suddenly the furthest thing from your mind.
“you, uh…” he paused, not for lack of words but simply dramatics. “you think you’re pretty tough, that right?”
“i never said that,” you replied quickly, shaking your head and averting your gaze. his hand was quick to grab your chin, forcing your head up to look him in the eye.
“‘i can handle myself.’ ain’t that what you just said?” his voice was low and rough, like he’d just swallowed sandpaper. your breath came out trembling, and when you didn’t answer fast enough for his liking, his grip grew tighter, rattling you a bit. “you answer me when i’m talkin’ to you, girl.”
“y-yes, that’s what i said,” you answered, voice wavering slightly. his gaze was piercing, eyes searching yours for a moment before releasing his grip, leaving you stumbling backwards into the front door.
“everything i do is for you,” he starts, adam's apple bobbing as he reaches out to place a more gentle hand on your arm, thumb rubbing your skin in soft circles. his eyes are still ablaze, and the dissonance makes you shiver. “everything, everything i fuckin’ do out there is to make sure none of my shit makes it back home to you, you got that? i’m not gonna let anyone lay a finger on you.” you find yourself nodding, mindlessly, letting his words soothe the irritation that had built up inside you. his calloused fingers find their way back to your face and he rubs his thumb across the plush of your lower lip, gauging the intensifying rise and fall of your chest.
he knows you. he knows what you need.
he nods almost curtly in understanding, letting his touch linger a bit longer just to feel the warmth of your shaking breath. “now you watch your goddamn language when you’re speakin’ to me, sweetheart. go on.” he jerked his head toward the door before turning around and heading for the kitchen without so much as another glance in your direction. “you’re gonna be late.”
you were in fact a few minutes late to work, but you were exactly on time getting home, that’s for sure. maybe even a few minutes earlier than usual.
and frank was waiting for you, of course he was. it was barely five minutes from walking through the door before he had you completely stripped, sitting obediently still in his lap as you wept into his shoulder.
“easy,” he cooed, squeezing your hips to keep you from rocking too much. “you quit all that cryin’ and start talking.”
your tears darkened his shirt as you clung to him helplessly, stuffed full of his thick cock and intoxicated by his voice.
“i-i just wan’you to talk to me, frank,” you cried, grasping weakly for purchase on his shoulders. “you get so distant and push me away…but i just wanna be helpful to you.” your voice was quiet and almost conspiratorial where you whispered into his neck, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses into his warm skin. “i just-
“hey, hey, hey,” he cut you off, grabbing your neck to pull you back and look into his darkened eyes. his voice was rough with restraint—it was nothing short of a miracle he was holding it together, what with you clenching around him desperately with every breath. “none of that. you wanna know how you can help me?”
you nodded fervently.
“by stayin’ your ass right fuckin’ here,” he grit, eliciting a pathetic moan from you as he drew you in impossibly closer. “by wakin’ up in the mornin’ and goin’ to work like you have been. by doin’ what i say, when i say it. by trustin’ that everything i do out there is for you, it’s for you.” he punctuated his words with a press to your lower back, guiding you to roll your hips against him slowly. “that’s how you can help me. you got that?”
“yes, frank, yes, yes,” you whined, letting his words placate you as you began to move against him with more eagerness. “i’m sorry, i’m so so sorry-”
“shh, shh, shh, you don’t apologize,” he soothed, his voice strained, blunt nails digging crescents into your plush skin. “you don’t apologize to me, girl, you just take what you need baby, you take it from me, yeah? you take it and then we can talk, baby, just fuckin’- oh, fuck- you just take it-”
-
so yeah, frank knows how to handle you and your bratty attitude just fine.
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darkbluekies · 3 months
Text
Silas & King Edmund drabbles: darling drinking to deal with the situation
Yandere!mafia & yandere!king
Warnings: alcoholism, wrong ways to fix addiction (edmund), yandere, throwing up, mentions of murder
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Silas:
He's had enough of you drinking. Frankly enough, he's worried about your health. He has his men grab all of your bottles and dump them out in the sink.
"Don't do that!" you burst out and try to run over to stop them.
Silas grabs you before you have the time to reach them. He holds you still, grimacing slightly.
"Your breath stinks, little one", he scolds you. "This is for you, you should actually thank me."
"I need that to fucking deal with you!"
"Oh, really? Is that so?"
You start to cry. The only reason that you have been able to deal with being Silas's wife/husband have been by being blacked out. If not, you can't handle the knowledge that the one holding and kissing you is the same person who murders behind your back.
Silas hugs you and kisses the top of your head. He cups your cheeks.
"If you continue like this you're going to kill your fucking liver", he says. "I'm not going to let you do that. You're stuck with me whether you like it or not."
A sudden wave moves through you and before anyone has the time to react, you throw up on the kitchen floor. Silas hurries to hold you up and gestures for his men to bring a bucket and cleaning supplies. He gives the men who empties the bottles into the sink warning gazes and they turn their back to you quickly.
"This is only the beginning, Y/N", he says in your ear. "Tomorrow, you'll be so hungover ... and that will be enough punishment to keep you in your lane."
"I fucking hate you", you mutter.
"You can hate me all you want, but you still wear my ring around your finger, and you will always belong to me. You better accept it."
"Boss, should we send them to the hospital?" his second in command asks as you throw up in the bucket. "To make sure that they haven't gotten any alcohol poisoning?"
You throw up again.
"Fine", Silas says. "You hear that, Y/N? You'll go to the doctor. Better lay off the alcohol and pick up some apples."
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King Edmund:
He doesn't mind it at first, because you're kept where he wants you, in your bedroom ... but after a while he notices that when he wants to be with you, you barely respond coherently and you've lost the spark he loves.
He holds your wobbly head in his hands and scoffs.
"That's it", he says firmly and turns to his guards. "Destroy every snigle bottle of wine in the kingdom. Every, single bottle. We will have a total abstinence of alcohol."
"That's bullshit", you mutter.
"Language!"
You glare at him and pull your head out of his hands, tripping on yourself. Edmund cocks an eyebrow at you.
"Don't give me that look", he says. "You brought this upon yourself, Y/N. I'm doing this for you."
"No, you're doing this for yourself, because you don't like me when I'm drunk", you spit at him. "You don't care about my feelings and why I feel like drowning myself in your wine."
Edmund rolls his eyes. "You're not only drunk, you're wasted. You can't handle any type of conversation, you can barely eat properly and you're not the one I like to spend time with. People will talk. This is not how you should behave."
You sigh. You can't remember the last time you've been sober, and you're not sure that you want to be. Not with Edmund.
"To make sure that you sober up completely and won't be able to get any more alcohol", Edmund starts, "you will spend the night in the dungeon with a whole lot of water."
"No, not the dungeon", you beg drunkenly. "I hate that place. I hate the rats, and the moldy walls, and the screams, and-"
"I don't care. You need to be away from the wine."
When you start craving for alcohol tomorrow in the dungeon, you're afraid of what you'll do. The abstinence will be worse if you're down there.
"Start walking", Edmund says and gives you a push. "I'll get rid of this addiction once and for all."
You wobble.
"Fucking- ... do I need to carry you?" he mutters before throwing you over his shoulder. "I need to do everything myself around here, for fucks sake."
Quite ironic while being the king and having a castle full of servants.
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silken-moonlight · 22 days
Text
Double Trouble (Nsfw) | Werewolf best friend x Vampire boyfriend x You
A/N: Its based on this post. So glad to be back tonight with this little fun piece. I love doing stuff like this and I hope you like it as much as I love writing it! - Swan/Moon
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Spending time with your boyfriend and your best friend has always been somewhat difficult. Your boyfriend is a vampire, and your best friend is a werewolf. Trouble is guaranteed at some point, especially since your boyfriend, despite his long life, is self-conscious. He needs a lot of reassurance throughout the day and even more so in the bedroom. Your best friend, however, a tall and very attractive werewolf, is the polar opposite. He is incredibly confident, aware that he is good in bed, and flirty to the ends of the earth. Flirting with you like there was no tomorrow, smacking your ass or doing something stupid like moaning when your boyfriend called you.
They kind of hated each other, or so you thought. Just now, you came home and were greeted by the two of them, who looked at you mischievously. You didn't even expect them to be in your flat, especially not together. You had just come back from the bookstore and had gotten some iced coffee on the way back..
“Hey guys,” you greeted them. “Hey, sweetheart, how was your trip?” your boyfriend asked and strode over to you, kissing you deeply and passionately. You were surprised by this, since he rarely showed such affection in front of your best friend. You smiled, enjoying his sudden display of affection. Your curiosity, however, won out and you had to ask, “What are you guys up to? I didn’t know you would come over.” You asked. Your best friend grinned. “Oh, Count Dracula and I talked about our feelings and are friends now.” Your best friend always teased your boyfriend with the nickname ‘Count Dracula’. "Oh, you did?” you asked excitedly and happily. You would love for the two of them to get along and not constantly fight. Your boyfriend chuckled, “Something like that…You see, my beloved, he and I just want the very best for you. You’re always so sad when we fight, so we decided to make you…happy and be together.” He crooned and suddenly your best friend was behind you. “What do you say, baby?” your werewolf best friend asked you with his typical wolfish grin. You looked back and forth between them, your heartbeat quickening and a flush becoming visible on your face.
“You…you mean…?” You reassured me, you always wanted to have a threesome, maybe this was your chance. “Yes, we want to satisfy you together, make you see stars, little love.” Your boyfriend almost purred and kissed you. You closed your eyes, enjoying the passionate kiss you two shared. Suddenly you were pulled away, your best friend wanted to kiss you too. His lips caught yours, hands were on your hips and waist, feeling their way up and down. They pulled down your summer dress, leaving you in your underwear. Suddenly you were lifted up by your boyfriend, him rushing you into the bedroom. Your best friend trailed close behind. You only had a moment to breathe before they were on you together. You laid on your back, your boyfriend was behind you and his lips caressed your neck. He sucked hickeys onto your neck, marking you and fidgeting with your bra. Arousal began to for between your legs, this whole situation was utterly erotic.
Your best friend kneeled between your legs, watching you too. His hands found your panties and he dragged them down. “Gods you smell amazing.” He growled and kissed up your ankle, calf and thigh. You gasoedm watched him as your boyfriend began to massage and grope your breats. Your nipples stiffend at the attention, waiting to be played with. Your boyfriend stopped and grabbed the head of your best friend:”Stop teasing her and start pleasuring her.” Before pressing your best friends face into your pussy. Immediatly your werewolf best friend began to lick and lap at your pussy. Your lips parted as moans spilled out. You grinded slightly on his face, feeling so good at the attention. “Do you feel good?” Your boyfriend asked and you nodded, he grinned and leaned down to suck on your nipples. His other hand ravished your free nipple, teasing and twisting it. You whimpered, whined, moaned… Your best friends fingers teased your entrance before he sunk one finger in you. You arched your back, closing your eyes as he fingered your firstly with one and then adding a second finger.
“Does he do it better than me?” Your boyfriend asked. Such a mean question:”No, the same…” Were you able to say. Your boyfriend chuckled and returned to caress your breasts. Your best friend looked up at you: “Oh come on, you can say if I am better.” You shook your head and moaned when he added a third finger. “I’m close…!” You whined and shivered slightly. The mouth and fingers in and on your pussy as well as the thorough dedication to your sensitive nipples brought you to your first orgasm. “Such a good girl, cum for us.” Your best friend said, you came all over his face.
Then they changed positions, the whole thing starting anew. “oh gods…” You said when your boyfriend kissed your sensitive pussy tenderly. You had time for one breath before his tongue fully develed into your cunt. You threw your head back. Your best friend chuckled and kissed you. You tasted yourself on his lips. His hands also teased your nipples. He kissed down to your erect nipples. They were already sensitive and he assaulted them with his skilled mouth and hot tongue. You moaned, writhing in pleasure and trying to close your legs. Your boyfriend held your legs apart, making room for himself to fuck you properly with his mouth. His fingers joined the came, through routine he curled his fingers directly into your g-spot, making you see stars and jolting up. You whined: “Cumming!” Before you came all over his face as well. Your werewolf best friend growled something about it being unfair. you could feel his cock rubbing against your back and see how hard your boyfriend was too. “Who was better sweetheart?” He tried to coax out of you, but you refused to answer. “Well then we have to continue.” He said with a grin. Once again his fingers delved into your cunt, abusing the sweet spot that made you see stars, shortly making you cum a second time. You whimpered and held onto your best friend for support, not even able to tell them you were reaching your orgasm again. “Such a good girl.” Your best friend crooned before he reached between your thighs, he was now to finger you. Firstly he rubbed your swollen clit, making you jolt up, but your boyfriend lent him a hand and held you down. You were loving every second of this, you were overstimulated but didn’t want it to stop.
His fingers rubbed circles over your clit, making you moan softly. He did that faster and faster, until you loudly came from his hand action, leaving you trembling. It had become a competition for them, and both of them were eager to win. They kissed your body all over, marking, sucking and biting. So many sensations you sometimes didn’t know who was doing what.
“Show me if its true, that wolves fuck the best.” Your boyfriend said to your best friend. The werewolf chuckled and quickly undressed himself. Your eyes went wide when you saw his dick for the first time, you reached out. Wanting to jerk him off a little, but your best friend scolded: “No baby, let us pleasure you.” Before he stroked himself a few times. He repositioned you into doggy style, ass up and face down. He rubbed his tip ud and down your slit. His precum mixed with your slick before he slowly and carefully sunk fully into you. You whined and moaned, feeling so full by his cock. After a short moment he began to move, his slow thrusts turned into a mad pounding. Tacking you like a wild animal. his cock was rubbing in all the right areas, making you tremble and push your back through. “Fuck!” You screamed and held onto your boyfriend who stroked your hair and praised you. Your best friend and you came together. He creampied you and you sank down onto the bed. But there was no break for you as your boyfriend turned you around on your back. Gently he sunk his cock into you, placing one of your legs over his shoulder. It was his favourite position. His hand found your clit, rubbing it while he thrusted in slow and hard thrusts. The cum of your best friend oozed out of your pussy, making a lewd squelching sound. “Such a good girl, letting us settle our fight over you by fucking you…” He praised you. “Maybe we should tag team her more often together. I mean look at her.” Your best friend said. “Dream on, wolf.” Your boyfriend said. You whined, wanting them to stop fighting. Instead your best friend said: Quit it and fuck her harder.” Your boyfriend obeyed, fucking you faster and harder. You whined and shivered. Coaxing another orgasm out of you. He spilled his seed inside of you, but you knew he was still hard.
Just when you thought it was over, they decided for something else. “Lets fuck her togehter.” Your best friend suggested, your boyfriend agreeing. “I think she deserves to cum out of her mind, I mean she has been our plaything and deserves at least one more orgasm. You whined, feeling like jelly. They lifted you up, using the combined cum and your slick as lube. You had done some anal stuff with your boyfriend before. Your best friend lubed up his cock with it and gently took you from behind while your boyfriend took your pussy. They held you up in the air, your feet not reaching the ground. You held onto them for dear life. “Please…” You pleaded, not even knowing what you were pleading for. They began to move. They synced their movements, you saw stars, it felt so good. Their big cocks rubbed the right places, a hand was at your clit rubbing it and you could feel your boyfriend bite your neck. While he sucked your blood both of them fucked you like their life depended on it. Grabbing your hips, surely leaving bruises, making you cum and fucking you through it to a far bigger orgasm.
They moaned, held onto you and when they came you saw black for a moment. You screamed your pleasure out, overstimulated, fucked out of your mind, happy. Their cocks left your holes, making you feel empty. You whined and they gently placed you on the bed. They got some water for you and cleaned you up with a towel. You were so fucked out that you let them pamper you, you whined until they finally came to bed to cuddle you.
Maybe they could be friends, at least when it comes to pleasuring you…
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Taglist: @kyoko-neko
Divider Credit: @thecutestgrotto
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running-with-kn1ves · 4 months
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Drunken Stupor
A/N: this is based off of that drunken yan gangster idea that I couldn't get out of my head. I might rewrite it or do it differently but this is 4 u my 1 gangster lovin' anon for now!
OG Yandere Gangster Drabble (nsft) w/ da Yan Gangster Ramble
TW: kidnapping, drunken yandere, noncon kissing (no nsft), threats, toxic behavior, 
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Puzzles, accompanied by whatever news channel you could get through. Paint-by-number pictures, and shitty DVD’s from another time. Horribly thin sheets and an aching back--- you were completely, utterly, and seemingly irrevocably, isolated. The tight handcuffs around your feet only allowed you to hop around the house, barely making it to the front door before you tripped over the rug and nosedived into the cold, black floor. 
How long has it been? When was the last time you felt the spring wind on your face? You weren’t even allowed to open the windows, out of your captors fear of you screaming for help, even with him right next to you. He gave you countless things to keep yourself entertained, whether they be knitting grandma-like sweaters or taking up a different artistic hobby, anything that could keep you in one spot for long without the need to move or the option to hurt yourself. 
You were tempted to scream, to throw your half-finished puzzle at the wall and destroy the nice room set up for you that once belonged to the lone bachelor-- who, was much later than usual tonight. Your throat was too sore to keep up with the screaming however, and you pushed it to the back of your mind to try again tomorrow. If he came home all of a sudden and found you screaming at the ripe hour of 11 PM, he might do more than just threaten with one of his switchblades. 
You hated being around the bastard, feeling so terrified and weak like maybe today would finally be your last-- but at this point, you were going insane being by yourself for so long. Even a nice screaming match with him until your voice finally left you would more desirable than watching another 80s thriller that would haunt your dreams, alone. For someone who wasn’t home very often, he certainly had an extensive collection of old gangster movies, romcoms too even. But you couldn’t put Sixteen Candles on again without wanting to rip your eyes out-- not even one of his five million copies of The Godfather. Who needs that many copies of the same movie?
Your exhausted, beaten-down brain jolted at the sound of someone jerking at the door handle. The door practically thumped with the lock against the wall, dust raining as it was violently ripped back and forth. But then came the familiar jangle of an overloaded key ring, one you had heard most nights for what you can only assume has been the past month. 
Finally, your spiked anxiety crashed when you saw those familiar, much-too-shiny-for-a-gangster-to-be-wearing black leather shoes thump inside. You peaked your head out from your sitting position near the opened bedroom door, trying to get a glimpse without getting up and alerting him of your presence. It was inevitable for him to come to you, his kidnapee, but you tried to postpone the smothering for as long as possible. Maybe now was the time to chuck that puzzle. 
“You reallyyy gotta hold *hic* on mee…”
Mismatched footsteps trudged, stopping first to hit the corner of what you could only assume was the livingroom loveseat.
“Move outa ma way, couch! ..Even though you… treeat me *hic* badlyy..”
You heard the raking of fingernails on the couch cushions, the clink of a bottle rolling on the ground back and forth. You didn’t dare look back through the door crack. Maybe you should shut it? Lord knows what that would cause him to do, though. 
“You still gotts’a hold on me…” 
The sing-songy voice came closer, belonging to the madman you dreaded the return of. Within the crack of the door you saw a dark silhouette, the TV casting a face-shadowing glow that made you just an inch more terrified. 
“Hey, baby…” He hiccuped. 
“Well that’s new,” You started, looking away from him back to your puzzle. “When did I become your ‘baby’?” 
He moaned thoughtfully, thinking about your rhetorical question. “After you kidnapped me, I suppose?”
Maybe it was wrong to poke the beast, especially because he smelled like dirty whiskey and had three buttons too loose on his dress shirt, showing a deep scar betwixt his faint chest hair. A vulnerable image he’d never let you witness soberly. 
“Hrmmm….” He pushed his entire weight on the door, letting it creak open as he looked at you with a smile. 
“I dunno…maybe.” He laughed a little, giving a small snort like a schoolboy hearing his first nasty joke. 
You rolled your eyes. Damn, as if you weren’t on edge before, now you were going to have to deal with the equivalent of a murderous toddler who’s been threatening to hurt you ever since you were first brought here. Drunken fools were best left at the bar. 
But your icy demeanor didn’t sway his unsettingly good mood, the gangster opening the door all the way to flop onto your (unwillingly) shared bed. He dug his face into the sheets that smelled like you, looking at the back of your head that was pressed against the edge of the mattress.
“Was thinkin’ bout’cha…” He murmurs, tugging at a strand of your hair from behind. “Couldn’t stop talkin’ to the boys, ‘bout how pretty you are..” 
The short yanks at your hair to get your attention were becoming annoying, though you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of glaring face-to-face. 
“Told em’ how nice you look when yer sleepin’, when ya brush ya teeth, sayin’ that they’re not allowed to have ya....”
You hummed in response, trying to bend away to get closer to your puzzle. But you could sense the bubbling in your stomach, could feel that something was coming. Whether it’d be a bunch of slobbered kisses or your early demise, you couldn’t tell. 
“Oh really?” You asked, knowing he’d been adamant on not saying a word or letting make a peep about your existence in his gang-funded condo. 
“Yah, I did. Don’t believe me? Said i’d cut their fingers off, like boss does when some’n fucks up. I’d slam into em, make em watch while I...” 
He went quiet, and you thanked whatever made him. Whatever he said, you didn’t want to know; you’d already had enough of an unwilling look into his violent thoughts. 
“Well, doesn’t matter now, right... ‘cause now I gots’ya here. Mmph,” You hear him kick his shoes off, his face coming up to bury in your hair. “Smellin’ so good, lookin’ so nice fr’ me… wanting you so bad.” 
The sound of him inhaling you, his nose pressed to your neck as he shimmies his head deeper against you like a cat is uncomfortably warm. You feel two hands creep up, looking for your shoulders to push you back and make you more accessible. 
The gangster wasn’t normally so affectionate, so quiet and simple when he spoke. You were waiting for it to be replaced by his normal, angrily resentful behavior, the type that’d pull you by the hair to kiss you, that’d rant about the idiots he’d had to deal with for the day at you. But maybe, just maybe, you were in the clear for now?
“You’re acting weird,” You try to jerk away. “I’m not in the mood to entertain you, okay? Just, let me do my puzzle in peace. Go take a shower or something.”
He’s quick to respond, wrapping veiny arms around your shoulders and dangerously close to your neck. 
“Nuh huh, not unless yer comin’ with me, wanna show how much I loove you,” His head pops up closer to yours, the stressed crinkles under his eyes making him look older. “Cuz’ baby, you reallyy gotta hold on mee..” 
“Stop stop stop.” You couldn’t take the second-hand embarassment of listening him to try to sing again, horribly off key and far too confident in each drawn out word. “What do I have to do to stop you from singing again?”
“I can’t hold it in though. Love’s too strong for you, love.” His disheveled hair, once slicked back in an oily black, now strewn about across his forehead as it nearly covers his eyebrows. He presses his forehead towards you. “Lemme kiss. Told the boys you give the best kisses, lemme prove it..”
“Prove what-- they’re not even here!” You try to go under his arm-barricade, only to be stopped as he practically puts his full weight forward, dragging him with you each time you move. 
“Lovin’ you for so long, jusst a kiss, just one kith..” He reaches for your cheek with his lips, ignoring how you whip your head around in retaliation.
“No, no! You stink like a bar and ciggarettes, get off me.”
He grunts in frustration, biting down on his lower lip as his dark, full eyebrows furrow together. 
“Let me kiss or i’ll.. I’ll gut you like a fish, my lovely..” 
You stopped at that, looking out of the corner of your eye to his pink-tinted cheeks and strong neck that sweated at the sight of you. 
He puts a ringed knuckle to your cheek, huffing as his eyes go half-lidded. His suit was all wrinkled from rolling around on the bed, dirty with the day’s work and bar-stench as he forced you back against the end of the mattress. 
“C’mon, don’t make me say stuff like that just for a kiss…” He whined, scooting closer. “Maybe I’ll start singing again, y’knoww, if y’don’t come close.” 
“Please just… don’t hurt me.” You mumbled, trying to avoid that blank, dark look he often held that came crawling back a moment ago. You didn’t want that sober side right now; this was somehow easier to handle, even if it meant losing your dignity. 
“Don’t wanna, never will,” He hums, staring unbothered at your lips, as if he wasn’t holding you tight enough to suffocate. “S’just kiss me, need it bad..” 
You looked around, as if there was anyone else looking, trying to avoid the task that made you shiver inside. 
But you didn’t get a chance to reject the drunken gangster again, his wet lips coming against the side of your face. He poked the tip of his tongue out, flicking against your lip before going tongue-first into your surprised mouth. 
Anytime he had tried to kiss you, to do anything overtly intimate, the most he released was the silent huffs of a man too wrapped up in himself to let you hear anything of pleasure. But now, you witnessed the lewd shlops of his lips against yours, the neediness of the back of his throat, groaning to be deeper inside of you. 
One of his heavy hands cradled the back of your head, his stupor not caring (or rather, not noticing) how little you moved, how you seemed to be backing into his large palm that massaged your hair. 
“Loved’ya forever, so happy you were so stupid…” He mumbles between licks to the corner of your lip, diving back into the sticky warmth of you. “What kinda… mph, idiot, doesn’t..hugh, report to the police..?” 
With his arm once wrapped around you, the gangster takes your limp wrist to his collar, bringing it to hold his loose tie. He makes you drag him closer, guiding your slow and frowning lips in his one-sided makeout session. 
“Not’ma fault, making your life so much better now.. N’now, you’re mine.” He grins, a stupid little grin from the alcohol and delusion swarming his head as he consumes you, fingers coming to fiddle with your cotton T-shirt as he draws lines down your chest. “My sweet sunshine, all mine, forever n’ ever.” 
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angelstate · 5 months
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“Unprioritized Love”
Husband!Price x Wife!Reader
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Price is a loyal person, he thinks about everyone else before himself and doesn’t hesitate to do something he normally would be against if it means saving the people he cares for, it truly is a blessing at times, the way his priorities don’t falter…until they do.
because he is a loyal person but does not know or pretends not to know in which situations he should stand by one person instead of the other, it’s conflicting for him to choose someone when another person is also expecting his support.
it hurts a lot when you’re caught in that sort of situation with him, you’re his lover, his companion in life, and the person he returns home to, but you’re also the person he leaves behind for his team, you’re the one who waits around for him while the team gets him almost all the time.
and you know jealousy isn’t healthy, that you shouldn’t resent anyone because it's his job, he has to leave to provide for you, you cannot bite the hand that feeds you, it would be wrong, it wouldn’t be pretty, it wouldn’t be fair for him.
so you bite your tongue and nod like a child when he tells you about his job, about him going away once more, for longer this time. and the tears in your eyes are hard to be held back, because God, it hurts a lot to be left behind, all by yourself. away from your family and your lover, only an empty home to satisfy your basic needs.
He doesn’t mean to be an absent presence, the lack of a lover in your life. He truly doesn’t mean to give so little to you, to not hold you every night. but between his job and you…he knows which one he isn’t choosing even if he doesn’t say it out loud. 
“I'll be back when I can, alright?” he speaks, voice gruff as he looks around the room, his hands on his hips, you stay seated on the couch, knees close to your chest and your eyes glued to the TV for a distraction, is better to pretend you don’t care than to show him how much you are beginning to hate the dynamic he created in your life.
“mhm” you hum in agreement, taking a big breath and holding it in before exhaling through your nose, not trusting that if you open your mouth, a sob wouldn’t escape, Price notices the lack of words from your part, you always have something to say, a small joke to make about him better bringing you a souvenir or something from his “trip” but when this time you don’t speak or even dare to look at him makes him anxious.
“Want me to bring you something?” he asks, taking a few steps towards you, looking towards the TV, a baking program playing, and your focus on the show makes him raise an eyebrow, you aren’t one to enjoy cooking so he doesn't understand why you’re watching it. 
“no thanks” you respond, and the answer makes him feel like he’s done something wrong that made you upset, the last 4 days he’s been home replaying in his mind, trying to remember what could’ve made you get angry with him, nothing comes to mind sadly, and he feels clueless about everything surrounding you. 
“I thought you don’t like cooking” He decides to comment, shifting the conversation to something more banal and easy to speak about. “I started baking almost 8 months ago” you answer him back, voice flat and your eyes strained on the TV, the recipe to make pavlova having your main focus, it makes Price frustrated, how you won’t look at him, won’t give him the time of day when he’s leaving tomorrow.
you don’t expect him to know how your life develops and the things that change when he's away most of the time, it wouldn’t be fair to expect him to pay you attention when he already has a tough and complicated job to do, his salary pays for the kitchen supplies and food after all. it wouldn’t be fair to expect him to know you... god, how stupid is that?
“You didn’t tell me” Price states, his voice carrying a heaviness that reveals he is irritated about not being told something he should’ve known if he paid attention to the new things in the kitchen like the stand mixer next to the electric oven. 
“I thought I mentioned it when I gave you to try the brownies I made yesterday” you retort, your eyes landing on him for a second before returning to the TV, your gaze isn’t welcoming or warm and it creates a pit on his stomach to see you so detached and unresponsive to something he knew should make you upset.
It brings a sort of heaviness to his chest as he notices he doesn’t have the right to feel offended about not being told something when you should be upset about him not noticing in the first place something that occurred in his own home. It is hypocritical and he knows it.
Price stays silent for a long time, the sound of the TV filling in the silence that was created between the two of you, he feels out of place, not knowing how to answer you, what to do, what is the problem he feels he should be fixing right now.
“you should start packing” you comment after almost five minutes, and that phrase is said with a monotone tone, not one of sadness or a little bit of frustration that he’s leaving again, it's a tone that just states the obvious, you declare that he should pack his bag once more because otherwise he would leave with nothing for his mission and that wouldn’t be optimal.
“Can you help me pack?” He asks for a favor you often offer without him mentioning wanting your help. tonight you don’t offer assistance, almost like you aren’t faced by his departure, used to his absence, used to his side of the bed being empty.
“I’m watching TV” you speak and his heart breaks a little bit, you don’t sound apologetic as you often do when you’re not able to help him, and he’s leaving but he feels you left instead, that the girl he married is no longer in the house even though he has you in front of him, too focused on looking at the tv to help him.
he nods at your answer and doesn’t try to persuade you into doing something you don’t want to, it wouldn’t be fair to force you to help him just because he wants you to, it isn’t fair for you to give a hand and for him to take your arm. Loving someone isn’t really fair.
Only when he leaves the living room to go pack do your tears make their way out of your eyes, running down your cheeks as you cry silently, vision too blurry to even distinguish the images on the TV, it feels almost pathetic to be crying alone, your lover packing to leave and not be able to bring yourself to help him abandon you once again.
If you were his pet it would be abuse for him to just leave, but you're a woman and therefore being alone and left behind isn’t unexpected, being the one to stay home is almost an obligation when your lover leaves to provide for you even if you wish they stayed.
you’re not sure how it begins to be fair to be put in this situation, when the missions of 4 weeks turned into 4 months. When knowing everything about each other turned into barely remembering anniversaries and birthdays.
You don’t want to say the relationship fell apart because you doubt there’s anything at all to be destroyed anymore, you love him though, the pain in your chest and the tears falling from your eyes are proof of that, but you are not sure John loves you.
It’s uncertain how he views you after not spending time together for almost two years, you doubt there is nothing more than just an acknowledgment of your existence in his life, a statement that he knows you're his partner but not enough love to call you his lover.
“Why are you crying darling?” the sudden voice of Price pulls you out of your thoughts, the place next to you on the couch sinking as he takes a sit beside you, resting his elbows on his knees while his eyes examine your expression, you look utterly distraught about something, your breathing uneven and shaky as you begin to sob loudly, unable to talk as all your emotions came crashing down.
and the sight of you crying, digging your nails into your thighs, and being desperate for a peace that will not come, makes a heavy feeling of guilt and worry sit on his shoulders, wrapping an arm around your waist and another under your knees, bringing you into his lap and putting your face on the crook of his neck while you cried, sobs muffled against his skin, your tears wetting his shirt.
“take a deep breath love” Price says in your ear, your breathing so erratic that it makes him worried you will suffocate at some point because of the lack of oxygen in your body, he feels your chest against him as you do as he told you, taking deep breaths the best you can, trying to calm down for your and his sake.
you’ve never been one to cry with so much despair, to need his comfort in times of need because you managed well on your own, he was never around to solve your sorrow either so why bother? But today, he is the reason you're crying and it seems fair that he is the one to comfort you, that your only chore is to cry and keep your breathing somewhat stable while he does everything else to fix what he broke.
He doesn't know where to begin though, unaware of where he stands or what he should do to bring peace into your mind, what words will fix his mistake, and what words will tear you apart even more, he doesn’t want to cause you harm, not consciously, not right now. it wouldn’t be fair to you, it wouldn’t be fair to your heart, it would be cruel. and he doesn’t want to be cruel to you, not anymore.
“I’m sorry love…I should’ve been good to you” he whispers, kissing the top of your head, rocking you back and forth on his lap, soothing you like he would to a child, his voice low and soft, his hand caressing your thighs in a comforting manner. 
“I don’t know why I didn’t notice that you started baking, it was wrong, I didn’t notice you when I should’ve noticed every change you’ve had over the last two years” he continuous, speaking out the guilt he carried in his chest the moment he saw you and heard you break down into tears, your sobs engraved in his mind.
“I’m really sorry for missing out on all of this when I was gone, I shouldn’t have been such a bad husband, you don’t deserve that” he sighs, his eyes stinting a little bit from the tears beginning to form, and your calmer now, sniffling and whimpering, the tears slowly stopping, but it seems that your distraught was transferred to him because he doesn’t feel at ease, he feels the guilt eat him alive while he soothes you.
“I don't want you to leave…” you mumble, adjusting on his lap, your head resting against his chest, you have never wanted him to leave home, to go on missions for months on end with little to no contact with your lover, it feels like you're mourning him every time he goes away and doesn’t give you a small message to let you know he wasn’t killed.
“I know sweet girl” he replies, he doesn’t want to leave either, he never wants to, even though he continues to do so. It's a complicated situation, one he doesn’t dare to think about too much because he’ll end up ripping his heart out, his loyalty not being able to distribute equally for you and his team, always the latter winning even if he doesn’t dare to admit it.
he wants to promise you he’ll return quickly this time and will take a leave just to spend time with you, to dedicate more time to what's left of your relationship, he doesn’t want your marriage to fail, you’re the only woman he wants, the only one he had ever seen himself grow old together, he doesn’t want to let that go because of his own stupid and selfish mistakes.
He has to leave tomorrow, but when he’s back he’ll fix everything.
“I'll be back soon” he mumbles against your hair, face buried in it as breathes in your smell, trying to engrave it in his mind, to not forget this time details about you he has always loved. 
Thankfully, his promise becomes reality, and after two weeks of loneliness that have never felt heavier on your chest, he returns, a bouquet of flowers in his hand and a smile on his lips, happy to see you, to see the warmth and loving gaze you always give him back in your eyes after all this time.
He steps through the door, your face pressed against his chest, refusing to let go of him, fearing he would leave even if it wasn’t unreasonable, he had returned early for you, he had seen his mistakes and was fixing what never should’ve been broken
Peace is restored in your home, love is flourishing once again in your marriage, and whatever plans you had made to start over get discarded, you’re already having a fresh start, one that doesn’t involve leaving your lover. this time is a start with a more conscious man who is ready to do everything right by you, to never let his job affect the way he loves you. He's learning that his wife comes first, that his life outside of the military also has the same and more importance than his job.
(little reminder: I'm taking requests if you want me to write something specific xx)
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dollyhao · 8 months
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pastor’s wife!reader x perv!ellie
summary: ellie moves to a new neighborhood and is instantly infatuated with her innocent, married next door neighbor.
cw: teasing, dirty thoughts, cunnilingus (r!receiving), fingering, talk of the bible and church. (yall ion know shit bout church but i hope this is satisfying i know some people were excited about this.)
word count: 1.8k
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how fucking unlucky does ellie have to be to move next door to a damn pastor. ellie moved in 2 weeks ago when the pastor was at her door for a ‘welcome to the neighborhood’ visit. ellie has to literally stop herself from rolling her eyes at him when he mentions ellie coming to the church sometime that is until ellie sees someone out of her peripheral vision walking over to the two of them.
ellie feels like the world slows down. she sees a young woman, older than her but still young, walk over to her and the pastor holding a glass container of cupcakes. “hello, these are for you. welcome to the neighborhood!” you say with a beaming smile, handing over the cupcakes. you're wearing a ribbon as a headband and a knee length length dress with knee-high socks on. looking impossibly cute and innocent.
“hi, i’m ellie by the way.” ellie responds smiling a seemingly sweet smile, but there is nothing innocent going through her mind. “this is my wife,” the pastor said wrapping his arm around your waist. ellie literally cringes, he's like, twice your age. ellie sees you slowly pull out his hold with a strained smile.
“oh well thank you. i have to go back inside. it was nice meeting you two though.” ellie gives a tight slip smile. “of course. don’t hesitate to ask if you need anything and i mean anything.” you say grabbing her hand and giving it a squeeze. you and the pastor walk off back to your house and ellie closes the door.
now she might be tripping but ellie thinks that you were hinting at something with that last statement but she probably just imagined it.
that night, ellie is playing a game on her pc when she takes a quick look out the window but does a double take when she sees you in a soft purple underwear and bra set rubbing lotion on your legs. ellie has a direct view of your tits and how they sit just perfect in that bra.
you walk away from the window digging through your drawers, still in her line of sight, to get a cute, short silky night gown. your back is towards her when you go to pull the nightgown over your head, she has the perfect view of your ass. fuck, ellie just wants to bend you over that same bed your senior citizen of a husband sleeps in and fuck the shit out of you until your begging for her to let you cum. you walk over to the window looking directly at ellie, there’s no mistaking it this time, blushing at her before pulling the curtains closed. she swears she sees a small smile.
ellie is totally dripping wet right now. and shes decided, ellie has to have you.
ellie walks over to you a couple days later while your outside gardening one morning. you look up at her, "hi ellie!" you say standing, taking your gloves off giving her your full attention. "hey i was hoping you could teach me more about the bible and.. stuff." ellie doesn't know anything about this shit or care, but if it gets her in your pants, she's all for it.
"of course ellie! i'd love to. meet me at church tomorrow?"
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"please give donations to the church, they are going to a family in need right here in our community thank you and have a blessed day." the pastor says. everyone stands and walks around conversing. ellie is standing against a wall in the back of the church, watching you.
you shake hands and smile with gossipy older women. she waits until the church is practically empty and your picking up items left on seats putting them in the lost-n-found, to approach you. "ellie!" you say smiling at her, "when did you get here, i didnt see you through the whole sermon?" "a little while ago, i watched from the back," she says hands in her pocket and standing infront of you, "you look cute" she says looking at your lilac dress.
"thank you.." you say giving her a shy smile, walking over to the lost n found box, with her following behind. you put the random stuff in the box turning around finding ellie really close. "did you enjoy the um…sermon?" you whisper staring into her eyes. ellie hums, putting a hand on your waist.
she leans in, her lips ghosting yours. you lean forward before ellie backs up. "i dont really feel like the bible reading today. how bout next week?" she says hand rubbing up and down your waist. you nod, too nervous to talk. "...y-yea, thats fine. ill see you then." you say when you finally find your voice. ellie walks out leaving you there confused and excited.
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everyday the next week, ellie has been going over to your house for an hour to read the bible, with or without your husband there, trying to get closer to you. while you two are sitting on your couch one day, your reading a passage from the book, while ellie's staring at your face, not giving a fuck about what your reading, just thinking how pretty you would look with her dick in ya mouth.
you glance up at ellie catching her staring. you sit the book between the two of you, resting your head on the back of the couch, staring back. then you start giggling, "whats so funny." ellie says setting her copy of the book down too. "your so pretty ellie." you give her a soft smile. ellie blushes, shes not used to people calling her pretty, not even ex-girlfriends.
"thank you. your very beautiful yourself" she says not looking you in the eye. you scoot closer to her, "lets be friends ellie." you say grabbing her hands in yours, looking at her with those bambi eyes. "yea? i would like that, but if were going to be friends we can't read the bible every time we're together." ellie says chuckling.
"of course, how bout we watch a movie?" you suggest standing up, walking over to the tv. ellie knows that the movies you have are probably super PG, so she suggests you go over to her house 'because her tv is bigger'.
you get to ellie’s house and she puts on the gayest wlw movie she has. you two are snuggled on the couch under a blanket when a kiss scene comes on. the scene starts sweet but turns dirty quick. ellie looks over at you expecting to see shock but instead sees you squirming.
"you alright?" ellie asks whispering in your ear. you nod your head quickly. "im ok." you sit there for a couple more seconds, watching the scene before grabbing the remote and pausing it. you turn towards ellie, "i have a confession." you say looking down playing with your ring again. "what is it?"
you take a deep breath before mumbling, "i.. i like to watch girl on girl... videos." ellie looks at you shocked, this was gonna be easier than she thought. "i know its a sin to watch those kind of videos let alone the gay kind. but whenever i watch it, i just feel so... horny." you say, whispering that last part, glancing up at ellie. "im not sure im attracted to my husband... or men in general. and i know you like girls, i saw how you were looking at me from the window a couple weeks ago... so will you show me?"
ellie blinks, shes been trying to stop a smirk from breaking across her face the whole time you've been rambling. "show you what?" ellie knows what you mean but she wants to hear you say it. "show me what its like," you grab her hand placing it on your boob, "to be touched by a girl." she can't wait no more, she has to kiss you.
ellie leans in kissing you deeply, cradling your head slowly pushing you to lay back on the couch never disconnecting your lips. ellie slowly trails her hands from your breast to your waist while pushing her tongue in your mouth. you whimper already soaked. ellie is going too slow for you, you need more, so you lift her shirt up running your hands over her tummy hoping she'll get the message.
ellie takes off your dress straps pulling the dress down under your boobs. you have this cute white lace bra on. ellie disconnects her lips from yours looking down at you, she groans cupping your boob, "you have no idea how sexy you are." she whispers before biting and sucking on your boobs.
she sits up to look at you. your breathing heavy, with your tits covered with spit and bites and your dress askew. "cmon ellie. your taking too long." you say grabbing her hand putting it under your dress. "how impatient.." ellie grins leaning back down, kissing on your neck pulling your panties to the side, running her fingers up and down your pussy feeling just how wet you are. "have you ever been this wet before?" she asks popping her finger in her mouth.
"no, never..." your breathing gets heavier as ellie slides her finger into you curling it. your back arches gripping on the couch cushion, moaning out ellie's name. ellie lowers herself giving you little kitten licks, making you buck for more. ellie latches on to your clit sucking and licking while fucking you with her two fingers.
you chant her name gripping onto her hair. you are seeing white spots, "omg ellie, i-i feel weird.." ellie chuckles coming back up to bite at the sensitive spot under your ear, fucking you faster. "you gonna cum baby, you ever did that before?" she asks biting at your ear. you shake your head, feeling the knot in your tummy burst. you moan out, whimpering as ellie lets you ride out your orgasm.
she pulls her fingers out, popping them in her mouth again staring you in your eyes. you let out a cute mewl. ellie sits up, looking down at you. "how do you feel?" ellie says as you pant with a dazed look on your face. you look at her flustered, wrapping your arms around her shoulder, pulling her down to you, planting sweet pecks on her lips.
“Like i wanna do it again.” you smile.
@aouiaa @elliespookie @thefrenchlesbian @bratydoll @elliens4
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onelittlespiral · 8 months
Note
Hey dude, I'm just a lil bro looking for a big bro to take care of me in all sorts of ways but all I'm stuck with is my lousy nerd of a roommate. Could you help me out?
FML: Fraternize
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My roommate was… chill all things considered. I don’t know, he was just the random guy that I got stuck with when all my bros decided to move into the house and I needed someone to take the lease with. Scruffy, for sure. A bit out of shape. He said he used to play soccer in high school. Cute, but that was about it. Nowadays he was just getting his degree in English. Just a guy. But I didn’t want just another guy.
I tried to be friends with the guy, but he always just blew me and my boys off. He would just say he was too busy studying or playing some video game to come out to the gym with us or hang at the frat. I finally decided I was fed up. I needed my roommate to be more than a rando in my house. I needed a bro. And the fraternity had some resources to make that happen.
They usually keep this kinda stuff for pledges who start stepping out of line, but my buddy slipped me the files that they show to help guys get in line. I don’t remember if I ever saw them myself… what ever. It was a series of videos that promised to turn any guy into a bro in no time flat. So, one night, I put the tapes on when my roommate was home:
“Hey man, I’ve gotta watch these for class, mind if I slip them on?”
“No problem, I’ll just hang out in my bedroom.”
“Actually, it may be something you would like. You should stay. Here, you chill here and I’ll listen while I cook. I’ll make enough to split.”
I turned the first tape on and went to cook up some chicken and rice. In the other room, I heard the video beginning. It wasn’t long before I started hearing my roommate responding to the commands:
You are loyal to your bros.
“I am loyal to my bros.”
When you are around them you feel relaxed.
“When I am around them I feel relaxed”
The gym feels like your second home.
“The gym feels like my second home.”
The frat is life. You are made to be loyal to the frat.
“I am made to be loyal to the frat.”
They kept pushing him in the background while I finished cooking some food. When I walked back into the room, static filled the screen as my roommate stared into space, drool dripping from his mouth. I turned of the TV and he seemed to come to his senses.
“Hey, sup bro? Got the fuel?”
Already he was much better, “Yeah man, chicken and rice.”
“Hell yeah, gotta get a good workout in before getting my homework done.”
We ate quickly and started getting ready for the gym.
“Hey, bro, you think they are still taking new pledges? I’ve been meaning to apply to your frat!”
I was shocked at how quick the progress had been, “Yeah man. I’ll hook you up with my peeps tomorrow.”
“Sweet, let me finish getting ready and we can go.”
Dang those videos were quick. Even the way he carried himself was so different. This is the bro I needed.
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The week went on and we kept working out. I hooked my roommate up with the pledge master and he quickly started falling in with the bros. We worked out, partied, did almost everything together now. I gave the rest of the tapes back to my guy who gave them to me. He said he needed them for a few guys who had gotten a little hands-y with some girls at the last party. I was fine to get them back, I didn’t think there would be any more issues with my roommate.
The year flew by until it was time for spring break. I had opted to be my roommate’s big and done all the usual hazing and shit with him. Had to keep him on his A game, I wasn’t going to go east on him. The spring break frat trip was a rite of passage for the incoming pledges. As much as I wanted to go, I had plans to visit California with my partner. We were having a great time, chilling at the beach, shopping through souvenir stores, and hiking parks. But I made sure to get updates about how my roommate was enjoying his week. It was from one of these progress reports that I got word from the pledge master:
Hey, bro. Just letting you know. Your little bro was making some girls uncomfortable at the bar. Can’t have that causing issues for the frat.
Shit man. I’m sorry. Lemme talk to him.
Nah dude, it’s good. We have a protocol for these kinds things. Just letting you know so you aren’t surprised. We’ll make sure he won’t bother any girls again.
Thanks dude. Lemme know if you need anything.
Nah bruh, relax. Enjoy your vacay.
Well as long as they have shit handled. I went back to my vacation and forgot about the whole situation. I would give him crap for it when I got back. The rest of our trip was great. I didn’t hear anything more from my bros so I assumed it all went according to plan. I was eager to get back to my roommate and prep him for full brotherhood when I got back. It wasn’t till I walked into the apartment I knew something was awry:
“Sup, bro, welcome back.”
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A deep voice echoed from the balcony. He stepped inside and was greeted by a stranger. His arms were as thick as a football, his legs as thick as tree trunks. The smell of sweat, sex, and stale beer followed him into the room. He had a fresh tattoo on his arm with the number 86 boldly displayed. The stranger walked with swagger up to me, like he owned the place. As he approached, his musk only grew more intense. It wasn’t until I noticed the glasses it all clicked into place:
“Bro… is that you?!?”
“Bruh, who else would it be?”
My roommate stood proudly in front of me. He had been going to the gym steadily but no amount of protein powder could explain the progress he had made in a week. He was also easily 3 inches taller. And the smell. I don’t know how to describe it but he smelled… virile. Like just being around him was starting to get me excited. He certainly had never been like this before.
“Looking good, right? Like the new tat? Year of our chapter’s founding, 1986. After all, I am made to be loyal to the frat.”
That line made it all click together. The tapes. They said they would handle the situation, I didn’t know they would use the tapes.
”Speaking of which, dude. I can’t believe you flaked on the frat and went on a trip with your partner. You’ve got to be loyal to your bros.”
His scent, his words, my mind was swimming in a way it hadn’t in a long time. He stepped towards me, grabbing my head. I was pulled into his pit. I tried to pull back but a hand on the back of my head held me firmly in place. I felt so aroused and so scared as I was forced to huff the scent of pure frat bro. I was… fading. I couldn’t… resist… my… my… bruhhhhh.
“I think that you should sit through the next set with me bro.”
My mind was blank as he told me to sit down on the couch. Of course, I would do anything for my frat bro. He put on a video and sat behind me.
“They said we could watch this one together.”
The video whirled to life as my roommate held me in place in his lap. A flash of color and a brief intro played. It explained that it was the last in a series of videos for brothers who were trouble makers in the frat. This last one was the most extreme. I felt a wave of guilt, knowing I had betrayed my brothers and the chapter. I wasn’t sure what I did but I knew it must be bad. My behavior had to change.
You will conform to the standard set by the frat, whatever it takes. You will be entirely dedicated to the brotherhood.
“I will be entirely dedicated to the brotherhood,” we both repeated, in unison.
Good. Since you have proven you can’t be trusted with making good decisions, your brothers have decided to make those for you. You will become the ultimate frat bro.
“I will become the ultimate frat bro.”
Let’s start on the outside. A brother works out daily, at least. Strong muscles make for a strong foundation.
As I repeated the words, they became my reality. I had certainly never been a scrawny guy before, but this was something else. My muscles convulsed all at once, then seemed to shred and burst. My muscles ached as pecs, biceps, abs all were pulled out of my body. I sweat under the effort as legs bloated and toned, bloated and toned. My back stretched out and shoulders mounded on muscle.
Good bro. Now, a brother should be cocky, with a cock to match. All the other fraternities should know how superior we are.
‘Shiiit, no other frat could even come close. We threw the best parties, had the hottest girls and… fuck the hottest guys. With a bod like this, just about no body could resist.’ As those thoughts echoed in my head, there was a sharp pain in my balls as they started to swell. My cock snaked down my shorts, throbbing with newfound power and size. A moan escaped my mouth as my cock swelled thick as a beer can. Anyone would beg for a cock like this.
A frat bro with a cock like that just needs to fuck. Your libido keeps your mind so full that you hardly have time to pass your business classes.
My swollen balls began to churn as my cock came to life. As my mind was thrust into a deep sexual haze, any aspirations I had on my pre-law track were pushed out, draining right to my balls and slowly leaking out my cock. At the same time, I felt my roommate begin to shift behind me. I felt his cock press against the small of my back, throbbing as it was thrust into overdrive. He began slowly humping against my back, and I leaned back against that massive cock. I wanted to help my bro however I could. He wrapped his arms around me and slowly started jacking me off. My mind was in pure bliss as I was kicked into overdrive. His arms felt so warm and strong, and he was pushing all my buttons till I was thrusting into his hands.
The frat is a part of you. You live, breath, and sweat the frat. Everyone who meets you will know exactly what you’re about and submit to you, an alpha bro. You put the reek in Greek.
My mind processed for a second until the smell hit me from behind and I understood. My hormones shifted as sweat poured out. It was hard work being a fraternity brother, and everyone would know that. I worked overtime as the smell of straight frat filled my nostrils. The apartment changed in response, filled with leftover beers, used tank tops, and soaked underwear. Anyone who entered would fall into an immediate haze, the smell of bros clouding their mind. My mind was… so… slow. Just… needed… FUCK.
You will keep it simple, keep it stupid.
“I will keep it simple, keep it stupid.”
My head felt like it was filled with fluff. No thoughts, just instinct.
You will listen to your pledge master, follow all he says.
“I will listen to my pledge master, follow all he says.”
It was so much easier to just trust my bros. Whatever they said went.
You will live for and serve your bros, live for and serve the frat.
“I will live for and serve my bros and the frat.”
I would do anything for my bros. Gotta keep ‘em happy.
The frat is life.
“The frat is life.”
My roommate’s cock was still rock hard behind me. His grip was edging me as moaned for release. I could dedicate my life to men like him.
Thank you for your cooperation. There will be no further issues. Now cum.
And I did. Ropes shot across the floor as all the changes were set in stone. I was just another frat dude, struggling through Business classes and fucking through the night.
And with that the video ended. It took a sec for me to regain my senses. I slowly refocused my eyes and… fuck bruh my head is pounding. Musta partied too hard last night. Shit, I was drooling all over myself, lol. I mean, I’m hot but not that hot. And fuck, I made a mess. Bro, what happened? It’s already late, I’ve got to get ready to go out tonight.
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I was going to throw on a polo and some shorts when my roommate put a hand on my shoulder. This man must’ve got a double dose of whatever I got. Bro, he was on another fucking level. He pulled me in tight, cupped my ass in his hands, held my chin, and slid his tongue in my mouth. All at once, my world shifted as the fraternity’s motto rang in my head, I will be entirely dedicated to the brotherhood. An aching in my balls told me that I wasn’t going to make it out tonight. I had my frat bro… no, my big bro right here. And he will take care of his little bro. He pulled down his sweatpants and a thick rod popped out from the waistband. He gently guided me to his cock, the true source of his musk. Our scents mingled as my thoughts were consumed by sex. The salty taste of pre coated my tongue as the tip slid down the back of my throat. My mind faded as the smell of the frat filled my nostrils. I was lost in bliss as my bro started pumping, pumping down my throat. Gone was the nerdy roommate I had:
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There was nothing left but frat bro.
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puck-luck · 1 month
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Ok, my ideia of a request it's a smut (of course) piece where Nico H and girlfriend are in Swiss for the summer and they are on a road trip, and while driving in the middle of a forest they HAVE to pull onto the side of the road to have sex 😉
I hope you can understand, English not my first language!
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warnings: brat!reader (she's so me), car sex, oral (f receiving), begging/teasing (manipulation?) pairing: nico hischier x fem!reader summary: not quite following the request, but the one where fem!reader rides nh's face in the back of the car during a scenic drive. wc: 1111
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“I like the mustache, Neeks.”
Nico turns to face you, offering up a small smile. “I know, schatz. You told me this morning.”
“Yeah, but I don’t think I got to appreciate it this morning,” You grin, sliding Nico’s hand from its spot on your knee to the inside of your thigh. He’s always touching you somehow when he’s driving and today is no different, and today it’s giving you the perfect leverage to tease him.
“You just don’t want me to shave.”
You toss your head back, groaning. “I don’t think it’s fair that you’re lucky enough to be sexy with a mustache and you still decide to shave it.”
“Fair to whom, baby?”
“No fucking shot you know how to use whom instead of who, Nico.”
Nico laughs, squeezing your thigh before patting it and returning it to rest on your knee. “I had to learn English. You’ve been fluent since you were a baby. I’m sure once I’m done teaching you how to speak my language, you’ll know more about the grammar rules than I do.”
“Can we get back to the topic at hand?” You reply, moving Nico’s hand up again. “Your mustache?”
“I’m shaving it tomorrow. You can’t convince me to keep it.”
“I want to ride your face.”
Nico blinks in surprise, mouth slightly ajar. He nods a few times, eyes wide. “Yeah. Yeah, we should do that.”
“Now,” You tell him, hatting your eyelashes innocently. “We should do it now. There’s no time to waste, since you’re so set on shaving tomorrow.” 
With that, you unbuckle your seatbelt and crawl into the backseat. In the backseat, able to make eye contact with Nico through the rearview mirror, you shed your shorts and your skimpy panties. You’d been planning this all day, ever since Nico rejected your advances this morning and opted to plan a drive through the mountains surrounding his hometown. You spread your legs and tilt your head, waiting for Nico to look back at you again.
He does, but looks away a split second later, adjusting both of his hands on the steering wheel. You don’t miss the way he swallows, just short of an audible gulp. 
“Come on, Ni. You know you want to join me.”
You swipe your fingers through your folds, bringing it up to your lips. You wrap your lips around your finger, licking up the digit in clear view of your boyfriend. 
“Y/N,” Nico complains.
You moan around your finger.
“We’re supposed to be on a nice, scenic drive.”
“There’s a different view I’d like to see, baby,” You tease. “I think there’s a view that you’d like to see, too.”
Nico falls silent, seeming caught off guard by your boldness. 
“You know the one I’m referring to, right, Neeks?” You ask, voice light and airy as you continue to touch yourself. “I know how much you love to see me above you.”
“Schatzi,” Nico murmurs, indicating that you have to proceed with caution if you want to continue at all.
“I thought you loved it when I take what I need from you, Nico.  I need to fuck myself with your mouth, why won’t you join me?” You pout, using all of his weaknesses against him. “Don’t you want to get a taste of me?”
Nico curses under his breath. He steers to the side of the road and shifts the car into park, getting out of the vehicle and rounding the car to push the passenger seat all the way forward before he joins you in the back. You watch his arm muscles flex as the seat moves. You slip a finger into your wet cunt, letting out a soft moan at the feeling. 
“Take it out,” Nico commands, slamming the passenger door and taking two steps to open the door to the back. “Don’t touch what’s mine.”
You pump your fingers in and out of yourself one more time for good measure, then shift over to make room for Nico.
“Nope,” He says, voice sharp. He manages to fit himself into the space on the floor between the backseat and the passenger seat. His body faces the passenger seat and he tilts his head back to lean against the seat behind him. “Come on. Gonna fuck you with my tongue.”
Nico opens his mouth and sticks his tongue out, flat for you to lower yourself onto. You smile, nice and wide and very toothy, before swinging one leg over Nico and bracketing his head with your knees. You lower yourself down, Nico’s big hands meeting you halfway and pulling you down to meet his waiting tongue. 
He’s relentless from the get-go, his tongue flexing against you in short licks that offer plenty of stimulation but no real relief. 
You grind down on his tongue in mostly-aborted motions, the angle much more awkward than it is in your bed at home. Your head is mere inches from the roof of the car, causing you to hunch over in a way that can’t be sexy, but Nico seems to enjoy anyway. You’ve got a view of his eyes, the ones that are following every sway and bounce of your tits as you continue to grind down.
“Nico,” You groan. “More.”
Nico lifts you off his tongue just long enough to berate you. “The thing that you begged for so impatiently wasn’t enough? Poor girl. Maybe you shouldn’t get to come at all.”
You cry out in denial, but it turns into something more drawn out and longing when Nico reattaches himself to your clit and sucks hard, shameless slurping noises coming from below you. His mustache feels heavenly against your skin, scratchy and itchy and beautiful as your juices begin to coat it. 
When Nico shifts down to fuck his tongue into your hole, the hair above his lip rubs against your folds and his nose nudges your clit. He’s fast and desperate with his movements, pulling you into him so close that you can feel his breaths as he inhales and exhales. The soft sensation of his breath is what pulls you over the edge, in the end. It’s like a string, keeping you attached to him and to the world, whereas everything else fades away.
Nico licks you through the orgasm, then presses a kiss to the side of your thigh. He playfully bites you, then tosses you to the side, your back hitting the backseat with an “oof.” 
He gets stuck for a moment in the spot where he’s sitting, shifting this way and that before he manages to free himself. You giggle as he does so and he side-eyes you.
“Menace.”
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note: RIP Nico's Mustache. I miss you already. I wish we had had more than one day with you.
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ggyuha · 9 months
Text
good cop, bad cop / leon
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[ summary ] : you lost your belongings after a party—of course you’d need help but seeing how the officer is so handsome, maybe he can help you in more ways than one? ( wc is 3.6k words )
[ c/w ] : dom!leon x afab!reader, handjob, fingering, unprotected piv, car sex, degradation, pet names, age gap (reader is in college, leon is in early/mid 20s), …
[ note ] : he isn’t acting like a cutie patootie re2r leon bc it’s mostly self-indulgent but enjoy my filthy leon brain rot anyways & ik it’s p long but i love porn w plots ><
having partying all night, it was inevitable to lose something in the process—the something, in your case, was your purse. of course, how cliché.
it had your money, cards and phone in it and hell if you can survive without your phone.
with sore feet and tired heels, you made your way to the nearest police station. it was almost empty, save for a couple of bored-looking officers. they were all buried in paperworks except for one—damn was he a sight for sore eyes.
he had blond hair which was parted in a curtain-ish type of bangs. his eyes were icy blue, the type to bore holes in someone when they stare too hard. his nose was long and tall, it sat perfectly in the middle of his pretty face. his lips were plump and red, so kissable but save that for later, you thought. it’s your purse over this handsome cop.
he walked up to you with a smile on his lips, his puppy eyes looking brightly at you. “hello, is there anything i can help you with?” he asked gently. you saw the way his eyes roamed over your body, up and down, checking you out. you straightened your back, feeling a sense of pride to have such an attractive man gaze at you that way. who wouldn’t, to be honest? with the way your tight black dress hugged your curves perfectly, the way the hem showed a generous amount of your thighs. you sure are a looker.
“yes, please,” you said in the softest way possible, his eyes flicking back up to match your stare. “my purse was stolen and… and i have to get home. is it possible to borrow a phone?”
he raised his brows. a phone? you’d borrow a phone instead of asking for a lift back home. he was disappointed but intentionally gave you his personal phone instead of his work phone. “here, sweetheart.” he just couldn’t hold that one back. he had a thing for pet names and he sure as shit can’t help himself but call you nicknames.
you blinked a few times, flustered with the pet name but you took the phone from his hand and dialled your friend’s number. it took him a few rings. “hello, chris?” chris was your older brother’s best friend. he’s nice and understanding, he acts more brotherly than your own brother so you didn’t hesitate to punch his number in the keypad.
“yes?” he mumbled groggily. you felt a little guilty, disturbing him this late at night but you had to suck it up or you wouldn’t get home. “uhm, i’m in a police station. i lost my purse. can you come and get me?” there was silence for a few seconds before you heard a loud sigh. he said your name, asking to confirm if it was you.
but of course, it was you. who else would cause trouble only to bother him afterwards, right?
“yes, it’s me.”
you heard a low grunt—fuck, you thought. “i can’t, i’m sorry… i’m s’posed to watch my lil’ cousin for the whole night and my uncle used the car.” your lower lip caught in between your teeth. “i see,” you replied in a steady tone, careful not to sound disappointed because you knew chris would feel even more guilty, if he wasn’t feeling that now, which you sure as shit he is.
“it’s okay, chris. thanks anyway. there are tons of officers here,” you said, eyeing the said officers, which you can count with the fingers of a hand. you couldn’t tell chris the truth though.
“maybe i can ask for a lift.” leon’s ears perked up and he fought hard to hold back a grin.
chris hummed on the other end of the line. “i’ll come by tomorrow to check on you, is that good?” he knew your parents are on a business trip and your brother is, most probably, not home. you nodded, slightly forgetting he won’t see. “yes, thanks.”
you handed the officer’s phone back to him. “i can give you a ride.” leon offered with a small smirk. you shivered slightly under his piercing gaze. you could feel the palpable tension between you two and god, was it wrong. you were barely done with college—how old are you? eighteen? nineteen? fuck, it was so wrong but it felt so right.
curious as you were about his age, you refrained from asking.
“okay,” you said, “sorry, i didn’t catch your name.” you looked up at him with doe eyes. you sure knew how to use your charms, he thought. you were worming your way into his head. he was beginning to imagine things—said things being him thrusting his hips, ramming into you roughly—but he isn’t telling you that. yet.
“leon kennedy, but it’s just leon for you.” he gave you a wink before walking past you, gesturing for you to follow him. “i’m almost done with my shift anyway. can you wait for 10 minutes, sweetie?” he glanced back at you over his shoulders, “let me just hand in my paperworks and clock out, yeah?” it took you a few to process his words, his voice calling you sweetie ringing in your head.
“sure,” you answered, “i’ll wait—“ you eyed the lounge and sat on one of the chair, “—here.” he chuckled before walking away to go to his desk, organising piles of paperworks. he grabbed two handfuls of those papers and put them in drawers. the rest of the stack, he grabbed and he walked into an office, probably to hand it in.
he went out after minutes and he arranged his desk. an organised man, you thought, that’s so fucking hot.
he grabbed his backpack and slung it over one shoulder as he walked towards you. “i clocked out. ready to get home?” he smiled sweetly at you. you nodded and stood up, walking behind him.
you were surprised when he got in his car. like, his personal car. you guess it made sense since he already got off work but still. you thought he’d use the police car.
okay, chill, it isn’t even that big of a deal.
you climbed into his passenger seat. “took your sweet time, didn’t you?” he joked as he ignited the engine. you scratched your cheek. “sorry.”
he chuckled at your apology. “i was just kidding.” you shot him a brief glance and threw him a smile. damn did that do something to him.
he began driving, asking you for directions. it didn’t take that long before you reached your home. “this is it,” you said, pointing at the house outside the passenger window. he looked your way, his eyes drifting back to you after he eyed your house. it wasn’t that big but it still was a statement of your family’s wealth.
“thanks for driving me home. even after your shift ended too…” his hand moved from the shift stick to your knee, his eyes remained on yours, looking at you with a glint and you could swear that you could see through him. “it’s not a problem, princess. don’t mention it.” a corner of his lips curved up in a sly smirk. oh, was he a handsome devil—which was ironic since he’s in the force, doing good.
you bit your lip, holding back to gaze at his hand on your knee. it was burning your skin but you were so fucking aching for his hands to burn more than just your knee.
you hummed a response. “alright, leon.” despite knowing that you’re supposed to get out of the car, because the ride is done, you couldn’t move an inch, holding onto his meaningful stare while he killed the engine. “what?” you huffed out silently. his mouth is still curved up in a smirk and his eyes watched you hungrily, almost as if this whole interaction is a bit too entertaining for him.
what the fuck is behind those eyes?
“maybe next time,” he leaned in closer and your breath caught in your throat, “don’t party too hard, yeah?” his breath fanned your cheek. “or do. then maybe i’ll see you around again.” you gasped inaudibly then bit your lip. “you’re not getting your message across, officer kennedy.” you raised a brow at him. “are you telling me to run wild or not?”
leon grinned at your question. he liked this side of you; bold, confident. you’re a minx and you know it.
“i don’t care,” said leon in a low tone. god, did it sound so sexy, so illegally. “i guess i’m saying, do what you will in life but i wanna see you again.”
your eyes widened a bit and it broke free, that sly smile you’ve been holding back for too long. he thinks he has you in his grasp but no, you have him in your grasp.
men are that easy. for you, that is. play dumb, play innocent—or don’t—it doesn’t matter, actually. just look tempting and they eat everything up.
“i’m still a student, officer,” you finally tell him. he doesn’t show a hint of surprise, almost as if he knew. he looked away and pursed his lips, choosing his words carefully now but it’s quite too late for that, isn’t it?
“but you don’t really care, do you?” you added in a sultry tone. his eyes flicked back to you, reflecting sinful emotions—and you could almost see what kind of thoughts danced in his head, how lewd and how fucking hot those thoughts were.
his lips curved up in a smile but he tried to hide it as he rested his elbow on the steering wheel and put a hand on his lower face, the back of it pressed against his mouth.
“you don’t know that,” said leon in a whisper. your finger traced patterns on the back of his hand that’s still on your knee. you saw his adam’s apple bob in his throat. “oh, but i do.” you grabbed his hand and yanked it so you could pull him closer to you again. his eyes widened, caught off guard.
you were having so much fun. he always seemed collected. all throughout the evening, he was flirting but now, he was at your mercy. fuck those pretty eyes of yours or those damned wet lips. he’d do anything to touch you—and you could feel yourself wanting the same thing.
you clutched the collar of his shirt with one hand, your other hand ran through his ash blond hair. “i know what you’ve been thinking the entire time. trust me, officer kennedy, i’ve seen those eyes before.”
his face contorted to that of jealousy. so you’ve been through this before? you’ve seduced other men? and god so help him—you’ve fucked other men?
you watched as his eyes glinted in envy and he looked so dangerous, so tantalising. you bit the tip of your tongue inside your mouth, your gaze dropping to his lips tugged in a frown.
he grunted, feeling the tension increase. “fuck this,” he murmured and gripped your arm tightly. you winced in pain but looked up at him with a smile. “i’ll fuck you better.”
your mouth dropped open in surprise, his words catching you off guard a bit. apparently, he took this action for something else, as an invitation, and he leaned forward, crashing his lips with yours in a rough and wet kiss.
you’d be lying if you said this wasn’t your goal, not where you wanted to end up in, because it so fucking is.
your hands kept on clutching his shirt, pulling him closer as you kissed him back with much fervour. he groaned into the kiss, sending waves of pleasure. really, damn this man to hell but he’s such a fucking good kisser.
he nibbled at your lower lip, biting it and licking it all while interlocking with it. he bit harder this time and you gasped. he eased the pain by licking it and then pushed his tongue in your mouth, swirling and dancing with yours.
he pulled away, but you knew he only did to let you breathe because he would fucking drown you with his kisses if he could.
“damn…” you were panting heavily. your heart was pounding so erratically, you thought it was possible to suffer from a heart attack. you looked at him through your eyelids. “what do you think?” he asked, caressing your cheek with his hand. “i kissed you better, didn’t i?”
you rolled your eyes and frowned at his question. what a jealous bastard! “huh,” you scoffed, “are you making out with me to heal your ego? are you seriously competing with other men you don’t even know?” you raised your brows at him.
“no, no, no, princess—you don’t get it. i have to make sure i do you better so next time, you come back to me and not them.”
without waiting for your response, he gripped your waist tightly to lift you up, guiding you to him. he adjusted the driver’s seat, pushing it back to give you enough space to straddle his lap. you huffed out shakily, the new position heightening your desire. you gripped his shoulders.
“oh, so there’s a next time?” you raised a brow at him and he just gave a smug sneer. “‘course. i’m not an idiot. why would i make you be a one time thing? you’re too pretty for that.” you rolled your eyes at him but secretly flattered he finds you attractive enough to want you more than a one-night stand.
he just chuckled at your reaction then his hands gripped your hips firmly and crashed his lips with yours once more before trailing down to your jaw and neck, nipping on your skin at every opportunity, leaving hickeys.
you tilted your head, giving him more access to your neck, your fingers entwined with his soft hair, combing and gripping them to spur him to keep going.
his hands gave your hips a gentle squeeze before sliding upwards to fondle your tits through your tight dress. you gasped and he chuckled against your skin. he pulled your neckline down, revealing your round breasts and erect nipples. he cupped them with his big hands, pinching and pulling on your buds with his long fingers.
“shit…” you murmured, tipping your head backwards as you fought back a moan. his hands are so filthy but you bet you haven’t even seen the half of it.
he pushed you gently, your back resting against the steering wheel. you watched him hike the hem of your dress up to your waist and palmed your mound without a word. you yelped, feeling him trace a finger along your slit through your panties. he could feel just how wet you already are and that elicited a throaty growl from him.
“messy little girl,” he whispered as he pushed your panties aside, gathering some of your slick with the tip of his fingers before rubbing your throbbing clit, working in circles. you let out a nasty mewl, your hand flying to your mouth and clamp it shut—which didn’t help at all because once he found the perfect rhythm to work on your clit, rolls of whimper and moans escaped your lips.
“so vocal, aren’t you? don’t hold back, i want to hear it.” hesitantly, you removed your hand from your mouth, putting two of them on his shoulders instead. “leoooon…” you moaned when he pushed two thick digits past your slick folds, the heel of his palm bumping against your nub every time he pumped in and out. once you’re adjusted to his fingers, he began curling them and with how long his fingers are, the tip of them reached spots you normally couldn’t on your own.
“this the spot?” he asked teasingly, sliding his fingers in and out then curled them to press on your g-spots. he kept his ministrations, only picking up the pace but doing it at the same intensity.
you were mush at this point, the steering wheel being the only thing keeping you sitting up because if you weren’t leaning, you sure as hell would be falling back with the way he’s doing your body.
“your tight pussy is just as vocal as you. how cute.” you grunted at his words, feeling your walls clench around his fingers. he was right though. every time he thrusted those damn fingers in you, filthy squelching filled the car.
“i’m close, please…”
he looked up at you and smiled, his other hand tucking your hair behind your ear then leaned forward to kiss your lips briefly. “go on then, cum on my fingers, baby.” a couple more thrusts of his fingers and your hips began to rhythmically spasm, riding your orgasm while he continued to slowly stroke your spongy walls, your cum coating his fingers.
he pulled out, his tongue swirling around his cum-coated digits and licked them clean down to his knuckles. “delicious little thing, aren’t ya,” he said as he unbuckled his pants, his other hand grabbing your wrist to guide your hands and palm his fully erect cock.
your eyes widened and you exhaled, your fingers barely wrapping around his length. your thumb swiped on the precum gathering on his tip and he shakily sighed, throwing his head back on his seat’s headrest, watching you with half-lidded eyes.
you lazily stroked him. honestly, you didn’t have enough energy for this. you just want him inside you and all this teasing—it’s only making you impatient. “hmp,” his brow twitched slightly and glared at you, “brat. i know as hell this isn’t how you give handjobs.” he grabbed your wrist and pushed it up and down to stroke his throbbing cock harder. “what’s the matter? can’t wait ‘til my cock’s inside you?” he smirked and despite wanting to deny his accusation, you just whined instead and watched him use your hand as a fleshlight.
“shit, hold on, baby.” his hips were bucking up in rhythm with your hand, fucking your fist with urgency. with a throaty moan, his cock twitched before ropes of cum spilled on your hand and some on your stomach. you thought about how good it’d feel to have this hot and sticky thing stuffed in you.
he panted heavily but he was clearly still hard. he hasn’t had enough, for sure. he grabbed your hips, lifting them up so your pussy is hovering above his cock then you slowly sank down, your head tipping back as you felt just how much he’s stretching your tight walls—fuck, he’s so big.
his fat tip effortlessly hit your cervix just by being balls deep inside you. you groaned and impatiently squirmed on his lap. “wait up, you slut,” he grunted before firmly holding your hips to help you ride his dick. he rammed inside you relentlessly, repeatedly hitting all your spots with his curves and length. series of moans spilled from your swollen lips. your hands found your bouncing tits, playing with your nipples which heightened your stimulation.
“filthy girl,” he spat but watched you play with yourself while he used your tight cunt like an expensive cocksleeve. “shit shit shit…” you breathlessly whimpered, “not that spot, not that spot—“ liar, that’s what you are because he is thrusting in such a good spot but if he keeps hitting that… “jesus, did you just cum?” he furrowed his brows and stared at the creamy white coating the base of his dick. “oh, that’s good, fuck you’re so tight…” he seemed to be reprimanding you for cumming first but he couldn’t help and enjoy the way you’re just so fucking tight, clamping down around his thick length after your release.
he kept pulling orgasm after orgasm out of you, pumping his cock in you and stuffing your womb with his thick cum as if he’s planning on giving you his kids.
you don’t know how or when it happened, that you’re in your house, on your bed. both of you are fully naked now while he rammed into you like a hungry man, his hands pressing on the back of your thigh ‘til they’re levelled with your ears. “leon, oh god, i’m…!” your walls clenched around him again, pussy twitching and hips spasming though you’re tired from cumming over and over again around his cock. he just kept spilling his load into you.
“shit, baby, can’t get enough of this pussy.” he pulled out and watched his cum ooze out of your puffy lips. you caught a glimpse of the sunrise from outside your window and series of doorbells echoed in your home, followed by chris’ voice. fuck.
he called your name but leon just raised his brows at you before flipping your limp body, spanking your ass to lift them up properly. you whined and did as he wanted, presenting yourself to him while your face is pressed on a pillow, muffling your moans and cries as he fucked you roughly for the nth time since last night.
“shh, princess. we gotta pretend nobody’s home, don’t we?” he whispered from behind, leaning forward to press soothing kisses on your shoulder blade as filthy sounds of skin slapping skin and wet squelching while he rammed mindlessly his cock in you filled your bedroom. “wouldn’t want your friend to catch us like this after all.”
“mhm, shit…” he murmured as his hips picked up pace, swinging more sloppily and with more urgency before spilling another load of thick cum in you. jesus, is he ever gonna stop cumming at all?
“pretty girl, takin’ me so well. what’s another one more, yeah?”
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finelinefae · 3 months
Text
soft
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synopsis: girls with cute tummies and soft thighs and extra chub in different places can also date hot popstar boys okay? okay.
word count: 2.1 k
contains: plus size reader, non au harry, fluff, mentions of body image and insecurities, harry being obsessed with his girlfriend
A/N: the start of a new thing called 'soft girl sundays' which I'm starting !! i wrote this for wp a few months ago but it's one of my fave things I've written so I'm re-posting it here. it's cheesy and fun and harry's obsessed with his girl !! i know for a lot of us girlies sometimes it feels like we take up too much space and we're always made to feel smaller mentally, physically, in every way really but you have much of a right to be here as everyone else so take up alllll the space u need !! women are beautiful and majestic no matter their size 💘
. . .
My girls' in the audience tonight.
I look past the curtain across the stage and see her in the VIP section.
Even without the stage lights shining on her, she's glowing.
She's wearing a shirt with my initials stitched over her heart and every time she lifts her arms, I see her soft tummy and the dimples on her back when she spins. Her thick thighs are on show as she wears the smallest pink skirt known to man. Her hair falls past her shoulder and down her back and her cute cheeks turn pink as she smiles when she speaks to some of the team who stand with her. 
She's the living embodiment of the divine feminine and I can't ever seem to get over the fact that she's all mine. 
The music begins to play and I watch as her face lights up with excitement. She's seen this show over a few dozen times but she never fails to be just as excited as the first time she saw me walk on stage with a hickey on my neck that she'd put there moments before.
When it's my queue, I skip onto the stage and my ears nearly burst as the sound of people screaming over the music starts to fill the stadium. She's smiling, she's cheering, she's singing the words to every single song. She's so pretty and she's all I see.
When the show ends, I walk backstage to my dressing room. Normally I'd run into a car and get the Hell out of there before crowds of people start to fill up the streets to get home, but this time, Y/N was here and I knew how much anxiety she felt whenever we had to rush to be somewhere.
I walked in and accepted the compliments from my team after another successful show. Paris was a city I held close to me so it was always a fun time when we played.
I gulped down a glass of water and felt arms snake around my waist. I immediately grinned when I saw the lilac-painted nails that matched my very own. I feel her nuzzle her face into my back before I twist in her embrace and look into the eyes of the girl I love with everything in me.
"Hi baby," I whisper, stroking her cheek that still had glitter on it.
"Hi Harry," Y/N murmurs, her eyes tired but full of happiness.
"Y' okay?" I hold her, feeling her soft skin beneath my hand. She was so soft and cuddly.
"I'm okay." She smiles, lazily. "You did so good up there. I nearly cried,"
I laugh, "You always nearly cry."
"That's because I'm proud of you." She shrugs.
We sit on the couch and she straddles my lap, her skirt riding up and I nearly choke when I catch a glimpse of her lacy underwear. I put my hands on her thighs and squeeze them softly. "You excited for our trip tomorrow?" I asked, staring at her lips and suddenly feeling the temptation to kiss them. I did and she happily accepted.
We had a few days before the next show so we decided to head down to the South of France and spend a few days in Nice. We haven't been on a trip together in a while other than the tour locations so we made the most of the little time we had in between shows to spend as much time as we could together.
She nods, "I bought a new swimsuit just for the occasion."
I groan, my head falling back against the couch, "You kill me."
She giggles, "love you."
I immediately smile. "I love you too," I kiss her.
The morning after the show, we woke up early to make our flight down to Nice. Y/N whines the entire time because she's not a morning person and refuses to step one foot out of bed until I force her.
She sleeps on my chest the entire journey there, wearing an oversized hoodie with the hood up. "My whole heart is inside y'." I murmur as her cheek presses against my chest and makes her lips all pouty, light snores falling from them. I lightly push some of her baby hairs back from her face and trace my thumb over the soft skin of her cheek.
We arrive and head straight to our room at the hotel to drop our bags off before heading to the beach. Y/N immediately opens the doors to the balcony and gasps when she looks out at the view. "Harry, it's beautiful," Y/N says in awe.
I come up behind her and wrap my arms around her tummy, squeezing the softest part of her. I loved all the parts of her but her tummy was my absolute favourite. She always complained about it. How it stuck out when she wore tight clothing and even more so after eating. 'Harry I already have a tummy? Why punish me further by making it bigger after I eat? Seems unfair don't you think?'  I'd spend the whole journey home telling her how beautiful she looked and how I loved watching her enjoy the food she loves and then I'd hold her in bed and run circles on her little, bloated belly because I had made it my life's mission to show as much love to the little chub of a tummy she had.
I pull on my swim shorts and a white linen shirt, leaving the buttons undone. I pack my beach bag for our beach towels and my book as well as my film camera and sun lotion.
Y/N walks out of the bathroom. Her hair in loose curls from the heat and her face already sunkissed and pretty. My mouth falls open when I take in the small, blue bikini on her body, revealing her soft curves and every perfect inch of her.
"Do you like it?" She blushes, acting like she's not the hottest girl I've ever seen in my entire life.
It tied at her waist and around her neck, my immediate thought being how easy it would be to take it off her and spend the entire day in bed, making out or whatever. I honestly couldn't care less as long as she's there.
"Baby," I dropped the bag on the floor and made my way towards her, pinching her chin between my thumb and forefinger and tilting her head back so I could kiss her at the perfect angle.
She whines and the sound nearly has me dropping to my knees. "You're fucking unbelievable."
"You really think so?" She bites back a smile, "You don't think I need to hide my stretch marks?" My heart aches at how unsure she sounded, the fact she even had to ask made me want to pick her up and kiss each stretch mark on her body.
"No, my love," I shake my head, kissing the stretch marks at the top of her left breast and feeling her heart racing at the delicate touch. "You have absolutely nothing to hide from anybody. Y' beautiful and you're mine,"
She smiles and kisses me again.
We head down to the beach to the reserved sunbeds. Y/N lays out her towel and sits down to apply sun cream to her arms and legs. I help her do her back, massaging her shoulders and trying not to combust as she rolls her head to the side and moans at the feeling.
I literally have a crush on this woman.
And she's my fucking girlfriend.
What did I do to get this lucky in life?
"Let's go in the water baby," I held her hand and we walked to the water, stepping in together.
She wraps her arms and legs around me when we're deep enough in the water. I squeeze her ass and she gasps, swatting me gently. "What?" I look at her innocently.
"There's people watching." She hides her face in my neck and I turn us both around to catch sight of the paparazzi hiding behind the trees and snapping pictures of us.
I release a sigh and pull her face back to get a better look at her. If there was one thing that could make my girlfriend second guess herself, it was the paparazzi constantly posting her pictures online and allowing people to berate her for how she looked.
"Please don't let them ruin your day my love," I kiss her shoulder, still holding her in my arms. "I promise, you're the prettiest girl I've ever seen."
"You promise?" She pouts.
"Feel this," I reach for her hand and guide her to the small bit of chub on my hip.
She gasps, "You have chub too!"
I rolled my eyes but smiled at the same time, her excitement was adorable. "Everyone's got something they're insecure about. No matter how hard I've tried I can't seem to get rid of it, maybe it's from all the cakes you've been making but how am I meant to say no to such a pretty face?"
She squeals in delight when I pinch her sides and giggles as I press kisses to her face. "Wanna go and sunbathe for a little, baby?" She nods and we both walk out of the water so she can sit in the sun for a bit.
I spend more time in the water and come out to find Y/N verging on the brink of sleep. I smirk as I crawl between her legs and lay between her thighs, sighing softly as I turn my head away from the sun and press a kiss to her inner thigh. She reaches down and runs her fingers through my wet hair, her nails scratching my scalp.
After midday, I order food to be sent up to our room. Y/N's passed out on the sunbed so I gently shake her awake, "Hi baby," Her pretty eyes flutter open, "Need you to drink something darling, you've been in the sun for a while." She slowly sits up and rubs her eyes with the back of her hand. I unscrew the cap of the water bottle and pass it to her, watching as she almost drinks the whole thing.
"I got us room service to be delivered. Want to head back upstairs for a bit?" Her cheeks were red and her hair was all frizzy due to the humidity. She nodded and we packed our things up and made our way back to our hotel room.
Our food was already laid out on the balcony by the time we walked into the room. I had left the air conditioning on so the room was nice and cool since Y/N struggled to sleep when it was too hot and stuffy.
She was wearing my linen shirt over her bikini and I couldn't help but stare at her ass as I followed her to the table outside.
There was fruit, bread and pastries laid out on a spread at the table as well as a glass of red wine and some orange juice. Y/N sat on one of the chairs with one leg hitched up as she ate some of her baguette and cheese, her favourite snack to eat when we were in France.
"Are you having fun, my love?" I asked, taking a bite of fresh watermelon.
She nods quickly, "It's the best. Anytime with you is always the best,"
"Come sit here," I motion and move my chair out, patting my thigh. She doesn't hesitate and stands up to sit down on my lap.
I kissed the back of her neck and put one hand on her hip, my thumb traced the edge of the waistband of her bikini bottoms, slipping under the material to trail soft circles over her hip bones.
"I'm keeping you forever, I hope you know that," I murmur, appreciating this intimate moment between us which didn't happen as often as I liked them to but we made do.
"I hope so," She whispers.
I loved this girl for all she was. There is nothing in this world that could change just how much I adored her.
"Harry," She says my name, "This bikini is pretty easy to take off you know."
I choke, eyes widening and seeing the smirk on her face. I pick her up, her legs wrapping around me and her ankles locking behind my back. "Is that a challenge or a request?" I kiss her lips, tasting the saltiness of the sea on them.
"Both," She says in between kisses.
This girl. 
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