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oh-katsuki · 3 months

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it's been a really long time since i wrote porn for porn's sake. here u go. it's alpha nanami :)) i don't have a title for it oops

cw: alpha!nanami, omega!reader, a/b/o, breeding, knotting, heat and rut cycles, dubcon on both sides, fingering, cohabitation, taboo, protective nanami, i feel like there is a slight primal kink in here, light dacryphilia,

wc: 3.1k

nanami didn't mean to take in a stray, but that's sort of how it happened. you're staying with him until a particularly careless friend helps to find a suitable living arrangement for you. nanami really isn't sure how it became his problem, but he'd feel awful if he'd told satoru no and left you without somewhere to go, no matter how against living with an omega he is.

frankly, nanami doesn't support the idea of alphas and omegas living together. he thinks it's a bit perverse. there's far too much at risk and the situation can become dangerous if it's the wrong pairing. sure, sometimes it works out. the better of his kind (of which he considers himself to be) give the necessary space and resist the temptation, but the others... take it too far. it'd be easier for you to live with a beta, and nanami wonders why satoru didn't first go to one of them. maybe your pheromones are weak and satoru isn't worried. that's probably why he hadn't noticed them when satoru first brought you by to ask if it'd be okay.

he knows that second gender is a spectrum. some alphas and omegas hardly emit any pheromones at all, even during heat and rut cycles. nanami thinks he likely falls into this category, seeing as he's never been particularly tempted by an omega and very few have ever been all too tempted by him, but it's a gamble. it's—frankly—unethical to ask this of him and though nanami knows that he should have said no, something in his good nature compelled him to say yes.

you've weak pheromones too, he thinks. he, of course, can feel them to a degree, but seeing as you mostly keep to yourself, it's hardly a problem in the first few weeks. frankly, the most tempting thing about you is that you're beautiful. you seem to have an almost standoffish air about you, proud and dignified, with a preference towards a more solitary and observant lifestyle. most of the day, the two of you hardly even see each other, going about your lives entirely separately only to settle into the same house for bed at night.

you don't say much when you're home. in fact, nanami would wonder if you could speak at all if it weren't for the conversations he hears you having on your phone and the little laughs or eyerolls you give in response to his comments. there's understanding there, but it's silent and you hardly ever dignify nanami's words or invitations with a response. maybe you're airing on the side of caution. he wouldn't blame you if you are. so, for the next two weeks the two of you coexist without so much as a hello between you both, silently sharing a space. you stay out of the way and nanami pretends that he isn't slightly unsettled by your constant proximity and the creeping feeling that you don't really like him all too much.

"they're a little difficult," says gojo over the phone. "kinda standoffish and really smart."

"so i've noticed," nanami responds. "i can't say i blame them though. you've put us in a weird spot."

"oh, nanamin, i know you well enough to know that you wouldn't lay a hand on them even if they begged," satoru laughs. "and they really might."

nanami grimaces at satoru's statement.

"i still don't understand why it had to be me," nanami says flatly. "you could have called ijichi. it'd probably be safer."

"how noble," satoru snickers, "but i trust you. hang in there a few more weeks. we've been working on securing an apartment for them and once we do, they'll be out of your hair. you're an angel for letting them stay." he sing-songs into the receiver. nanami holds it away from his ear.

"sure," he says. "it's not really much trouble... it's just.."

"that they're an omega. i get it. stay strong or whatever lol," satoru laughs. "unless of course, you really like them."

nanami huffs and hangs up the phone. satoru's got a good head on his shoulders, but he knew where that conversation was going. satoru was likely to say something about your heat cycle and nanami, being an optimist in cases like these, hopes silently that it won't come for another two weeks. he knows he could ask, but he worries about coming across as something of a creep. nanami is a little orthodox in the sense that he believes alphas and omegas should be separate for this reason exactly. suppressants exist but they don't always work and though nanami has sense about him, he's always had an insecurity about the kind of monster his second gender could make him. it sets him at ease a little that your pheromones appear as weak as they are.

you round the corner into the living room, standing just on the far end of the room. you're wearing pajamas, but you seem to feel no need to cover yourself or hide any perceived indecency. nanami glances at you, making a point to avoid looking at the shape of your body. it's inviting and you look at him for a moment with a small smile before raising one single eyebrow and letting out a low huff of air. nanami decides that you'd heard his conversation and he watches you shake your head as you move to the kitchen to peruse what he has. your hips, swaying slightly with each step, draw his attention to the curve of your ass and he feels ashamed for even having looked.

you're beautiful, that's certain. even the way you move is beautiful. nanami has eyes enough to see that. something stirs inside of you when he speaks, wordless recognition, maybe amusement or irritation, and vice versa. regardless, it's beautiful and nanami finds that the longer you're here the more he has to swallow it down.

you seem to get a little uncomfortable if nanami has people over, even for a moment. not that you've ever said anything about it, but you appear set on edge when he does so in the following weeks, it leads him to not bring anyone over at all. he can't bear the idea of making you uncomfortable. for as little as you've spoken to him since you've been here, nanami finds that he's grown rather fond of you. if things continue this way, he should hate it when you leave. admittedly though, he's looking forward to it a little. nanami feels that you're... a temptation. one he can't really seem to overcome.

one evening, you sit down in the living room with him. it draws his attention to look at you.

"i'm not mean, you know," you say flatly.

nanami is astounded to hear the cadence of your voice so clearly and without prompt. he can only offer a nod in return.

"i'm just picky," you continue, shifting in your seat as if you're made uncomfortable by the way you're sitting. "i have to be, being the way i am and all."

"i understand. i'm not offended," nanami says. "but some people would probably call that rude."

you smile at him, coy and delicate. "would you?"

"maybe," he offers. "if the circumstances were different."

nanami clears his throat, furrowing his eyebrows at your body language. something's off and he wonders if maybe your cycle has begun. he shifts on the couch and turns his full attention to you.

you move over to him and sit just adjacent to his leg. something in him stirs, primal and unrecognizable. you've never been this close and he only now notices that you smell nice, like something light and fresh.

nanami feels his chest stir. "this is the most you've ever said to me, i think."

"sorry," you say.

"don't be," he responds.

this conversation is awkward. it's loaded. it's like a conversation between two people who can't exchange more than a few words without experiencing intense sexual tension. he clears his throat.

"i need your help," you mumble, shifting closer. he knows what you're implying.

"i can't help you," nanami responds through gritted teeth.

"please," you say, standing slowly. you linger in front of him for a moment before reaching out and slowly straddling his legs. nanami flinches as you settle on him, pausing for a moment to breathe. "touch me."

you place your head against his shoulder, fingers grabbing his shirt as if you're agitated. the skin of your cheek is warm against his collarbone and he can feel your hair against his jaw. you twitch lightly when you touch him. carefully, he places a large hand on your head. your whole body flinches, unbelievable warmth soaking into his skin.

you feel like you have a fever and the next time you raise your head, your eyes have gone glassy, face darker. your lips are wet and lightly parted and a layer of sweat covers your forehead.

"not like that," you say, something needy creeping into your voice.

nanami, against his better judgement, rests his hands on your waist. you shudder under his touch and he slowly strokes the exposed skin of your sides with his fingers. trailing the pads of them against raised goosebumps on your skin. between your legs, he can feel heat. he knows you're wet and he knows what you want. nanami isn't sure he can give it to you, he's unsure that he should. it's not illegal, but he feels that it's wrong. something about it is fundamentally wrong and the situation goes against all of his morals. his mind still wanders.

you rest your forehead against his chest, and he feels your pheromones as they hit his nose and soak in through his skin. his body responds, tensing. your breath picks up, little heaves and pants, and you squirm down against him almost involuntarily. nanami feels himself grow hard. it surprises him and shames him. he feels heat rise to his cheeks at the realization that he's pressing up against the inside of your leg, something that makes you stir and settle directly over him. every exhale from you is a borderline whine and the syrupy smell of you grows more intense by the moment. nanami still runs his fingers along your sides, venturing over your tummy and back occasionally.

"just a little bit," you command, rubbing your cheek against him and then placing your mouth on the side of his neck and biting. "i'm sorry. just a little bit."

nanami winces and you drag your hips over him. his hands fly to yours, gripping hard enough as you make you whine.

"i can't," he grits out, speaking directly against the way his cock throbs against your core. he can feel it's dampness, a humidity that soaks through his pants.

"it hurts," you mutter and nanami feels an unpleasant stirring in his stomach. he hates the thought of you being uncomfortable.

"maybe we can find help-" you twitch over him, making him wince, "for you."

you shake your head, "you."

nanami exhales and tips his head back, his fingers still on your waist. he weighs the outcomes of this in his mind. he could push you off and fix you a blanket and a safe space, give you some tools to help yourself and then plug his ears and pretend he doesn't want to do it himself. he imagines the buzzing sound, the way you'd whimper from the other room over, still unfulfilled despite the aid. he thinks about your fingers between your legs, unsatisfying and only serving to worsen the itch. it makes him strangely jealous, nauseous almost, that you should be so uncomfortable in his presence.

you exhales against him and it's a near defeated sound. nanami's fingers buzz with adrenaline, his cock swelling and throbbing every time you so much as shift over him. there's a lack of control in this situation and his fingers move to comfort you almost against his will.

something natural and easy takes over as he slides a big hand down to the front of you and cups your cunt. it feels almost like an out of body experience, but both yours and nanami's humanity drips away slowly to make room for these primal actions. you shudder and nanami's chest swells with relief as he sees your expression. there's a need within him to care for you. it's protective, the same way he'd feel if you were in physical danger.

nanami moves his four fingers over you slowly, his breathing hitching as you push your body against him. he can feel your dampness soaking through your thin shorts and it isn't long before your relief gives way to more need.

"just this once, nanami," you breath against his neck. "please."

nanami's head is filled with something syrupy. probably you. it's probably a chemical reaction caused by you and he knows that any pheromones you're releasing are probably being released in equal amounts by him. they take up space in the room, crowding him so that all he can focus on is you, is the need between your legs that calls to him like song.

"okay," he gives in, pulling your panties to the side and dipping his fingers into you.

you shudder and let out a short cry, thighs trembling. he knows he won't be able to satisfy you like this, but he wants to try. nanami knows though that there is no such thing as nipping it in the bud with these sorts of things and as he begins to move his fingers inside of you with a beckoning motion, he feels himself slip farther away.

you're so wet, dripping down his fingers. your pussy clenches around them, begging for a knot, sucking the two digits up into you and then threatening to push them out. nanami has been with omegas before, but he's never felt himself slip away like this. his humanity leaves him in favor of something animal.

nanami shushes you quietly as he pulls his fingers from your body. you whine and squirm against him, pressing down and grinding against the bulge in his pants. he sucks in a sharp breath and quickly discard your bottoms, leaving you bare and exposed in his lap.

your cunt is sticky and shining, glistening with your wetness. he can smell it, the way you're probably fertile, and the perverse thought crosses his mind that maybe you deliberately avoided your suppressants so that he could do this to you. how out of character for him to think that.

for someone so proper, he makes quick work of pressing the head of his cock against your entrance. you push your body forward to try to take him in and nanami very quickly slides into you. you're tight and with the way your cunt makes him feel, he knows that the stretch must hurt you, but he can't seem to stop. he's so focused on quelling the ache within you, buried deep in that spot where his knot will inevitably catch.

you are barely capable of forming words now, dumb and deaf with your heat. any words of comfort nanami offers to you seem to go in one ear and out the other, but he offers them anyway. they're automatic and they come without his even needing to think about them. things about taking care of you, about knotting you the way you're begging him to, about making sure you're never alone when you have to do this. if he were in a better state of mind, he'd be mortified.

instead, he fucks his hips up into you, holding you by the waist against his throbbing cock. then, when that isn't enough, he lays you on your back on the couch and presses your knees to your chest so that he can go deeper. he needs to get deep enough to where his knot will catch, to be able to stay there to ensure it catches properly. he feels the way air leaves you with every fuck of his hips.

you raise your hand to touch his face, eyes glassed over and watering as gentle tears slip down your cheeks. a silent encouragement that pulls him from his thoughts back to you. nanami turns his head instinctively and kisses the palm of your hand. then, he takes your thumb into his mouth and bites down on the fleshly part at the base of it. he could draw blood if he wanted, but he doesn't. instead he takes your hand as it falls from his lips and kisses you plainly again on the palm before pinning it above your head.

"i'll take care of you," he grunts out and you nod deliriously.

nanami makes quick work of knotting you. he bullies his cock as far in as it will go, swelling and swelling until he sticks. you squirm as he does, gasps growing higher in pitch until you're silenced by the pressure deep in your abdomen. you cum around him, he thinks, pussy fluttering as it throbs around his knot. then, you exhale as the heat recedes into the background with this momentary relief.

nanami winces as he holds himself up over you, slowly returning to his head as the swell of pheromones recedes and leaves only the feeling of the space he takes up in your cunt.

you search his face for something, benevolence maybe, and nanami places a wide palm to your cheek.

"i'm sorry," he breathes as words find him again. "i didn't intend to-"

you shake your head, returning to yourself as well. "don't be, i wanted to."

nanami isn't really sure what to say and you wince under him as he settles his weight a little further, throbbing lightly at the mention.

"hold me," you ask and nanami obliges. he settles fully over you before lifting you so that you're straddling his lap again. you wince and nanami soothes you by gently stroking your face. it's automatic again, the urge to comfort you is well beyond his control.

something in you triggers something in him and it is two full days before either of you are lucid and well enough to separate. satoru calls him multiple times, but nanami ignores him, too preoccupied with his unexpected rut and keeping you comfortable. at present, he's well past the initial guilt and frankly, entirely hellbent on deciding that you should stay. so much for his practicality, nature won out in the end.

nanami doesn't really think he'll ever hear the end of this, especially not from satoru who, when he inevitably gets a hold of them, will tease so relentlessly that it might shock nanami and you back into your senses. he decides to hide out here with you for a little longer, filling the room with the scent of you both until it crowds out everything else. he likes the way you feel nestled up beside him, messy and breathing deeply as you sleep.

a tag for my friends @antizenin and @kentocidal bc they asked!!!

#nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #jjk x reader #nanami smut #nanami kento smut #tw: a/b/o #tw: breeding #tw: dubcon #i can't find my writing tag #also there are prob spelling mistakes in here i apologize #i apologize if this isnt very good

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luulapants · 1 year

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Existential despair is so common in a person's twenties, I think, because up until that point, we've had a pretty clear road map for what's expected of us and we haven't had much reason to question that map. There are still a few milestones outlined for us (start a career, get married, make babies) but more and more young people are entering the post-school world and realizing:

A) that career thing just isn't happening like they said it would

B) I'm not ready to get married/I don't want to get married/marriage isn't the sort of life-altering event that it used to be

C) I'm not ready to make babies/I don't want a baby/I can't afford to raise children right now (see point A)

And in the absence of these milestones to shoot for (which one could argue weren't the promise of fulfillment they claimed to be in the first place), what we're left with is this aimless abyss of "the rest of our lives" sprawling out ahead of us with no indication of how it will go or what we should be doing to shape it. Young people start their first jobs, find they hate them, and think to themselves, "Is this it? Am I just supposed to do this job until I'm too old to do it or die first?"

Which is, yeah, really fucking depressing!! So here's my best attempt at an alternate roadmap for young people that don't vibe with the old model. Please feel free to add in your own suggestions!

Learn how you work and what you want out of a job. Unless you've been in a job-specific training program that gives you hands-on experience, your first jobs should be experiments. Learn how a full-time job feels for you, what elements are more or less difficult. Different workplaces have different cultures and expectations - what do you need out of a job environment? Do you need to find fulfillment in your job or is it enough for it to pay the bills and leave you time to find outside fulfillment? Do you want to climb a corporate ladder or are you content to hunker down as long as your bills get paid? This period of experimentation is exhausting and may feel like it's consuming your whole life.

Learn how to make time for things outside of work. Adapting to a full-time work environment often leaves you feeling so drained that you can't do anything but go home and collapse on the couch every day. That's fine - for a little while. But it can also become a habit. You need to learn how to do things after work or you'll go crazy. Go to a trivia night. Start an exercise schedule. Take a class in your community. Find volunteer work. Join a band. You will find that putting more things into your day makes you feel like you have more time, not less.

Find a community. Making friends as an adult can feel impossible. Where do you find these mysterious friends everyone seems to have?? This goes along with #2, though. As you start regularly attending the same activities, you will find that repeat interactions with the same people turn into friendships or at least friendly acquaintances. Say yes to invitations. Get involved in your local community. Strive to be connected enough to bump into people at the grocery store.

Unlearn bad lessons. We all internalize some messed up things when we're growing up. As you start off your adult life, that's the time to actively work at unpacking the things you've brought with you from childhood and deciding which things are helping you and which things are harming you. This might mean therapy or joining a spiritual group or reading new things or just making special time to be in your own head.

Learn the lessons you missed. In this, I mostly mean practical things. "Adulting." Areas of your day-to-day practical life that are causing you extreme stress are probably related to a knowledge or experience gap. Do you hate cooking and cleaning or were you not taught how to do it properly? Are you afraid of making medical appointments or is it just something new you're not used to? Does money make you queasy or do you need to learn how to make a budget?

Find something fulfilling. This can be your job. It can be volunteer work. It can be faith. It can be a hobby. It can be creating things. It can be challenging yourself physically. It can be activism. It can be going for walks in nature. Everyone finds fulfillment in different places. If you're not finding it where you are, look somewhere else.

#adulting #advice

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strawb3rrystar · 2 months

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Hazbin Hotel characters longing for you.

Pairing: Charlie Morningstar, Vaggie, Angel Dust, Husk, Sir Pentious, Alastor, Lucifer Morningstar, Adam, Vox, Valentino, Velvette x GN! Reader

Warnings: Implied breakup, Stalking, Just all around angst

Word count: 600

✰Masterlist

Charlie will hangout with her friends to get your mind off you. This strategy works for a little while, until she starts to notice small bits of your personality in them. All the little things pile up and it brings down her mood, causing her stay away from her friends as to not get reminded.

"Sorry guys, can't hangout today, not feeling the greatest."

Vaggie will bottle up all her emotions and avoid everyone. But, being all alone causes her to start thinking about you more. All the happy memories you created together. Laughs and smiles shared. Vulnerable venting sessions that ended in cuddles. She won't be able to scrape you from her mind and end up crying angry tears.

"Why... after everything we've been through! Why.. why did you leave me..?"

Angel Dust will probably be too distracted with work to think about you. But of course he misses you and wishes to have you back. If he ever does get time to just sit and think about you, his insecurities will get the best of him and he'll think your better off without him.

"Maybe.. they're better off. More happier without me.."

Husk will drown himself in alcohol like he always does. Silently doing his job. It wasn't much of a change to most of the others. Sometimes, out of the corner of his eye, he'll see your figure. He shivers every time he realizes you're not actually there.

"Must be the alcohol makin' me see shit..."

Sir Pentious will lay awake at night thinking about you. It doesn't help that his eggs will keep bringing stuff up about you. He doesn't want to think about you, but he just can't get you out of his head. He wishes to see you one last time before he lets you go.

"I haven't asked for much. Please, just let me see them again."

Alastor will convince himself that he was perfectly able to go on with his afterlife before he met you, so he can definitely do it after you left. Although, that's a lie, because he misses your presence everyday. Even if he doesn't want to admit it, he goes over your daily schedule before you left in his head and goes to the places you used to frequent.

"I am perfectly capable all on my own."

Lucifer will dream about you every night after you leave. He'll dream about all the good times you had together. Your smile and your laugh. His dreams are so realistic that when he wakes up it takes him a minute to remember you left.

"Right.. they left.. but, my dream was so.. real.."

Adam will kinda stalk you, justifying it as protection. Whenever he sees you hanging out with another angel, though, envy will fill his veins. Even if he knows it's one of your friends, he'll still get jealous.

"You were supposed to hangout with me, not this fucking nobody."

Vox will also very much stalk you with his cameras. Nervously searching his screens whenever you leave your house. He just wants to know where you are, and that you're safe.

"My sweet would never have to worry about their safety again."

Valentino will check your past messages 50 times a day. He's just itching to text you, but if he does you might block him, and then he'll lose your conversations forever. He might throw his phone in frustration.

"God fucking damn it!"

Velvette will regularly check your social media for any updates from you. If you do post something new, expect her to be one of the first to like it.

"@Velvvette liked your post."

Star's notes -> I've binged Hazbin Hotel like 3 times now OMG

(Requests are open!)

Taglist -> Join the taglist

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fake-bleach · 11 months

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feels so right | dbf!joel miller x reader

summary: Your college boyfriend's a dick, and it doesn't help that he dragged you along with him to a bar just to treat you like shit. You plan on catching a ride home after an incident between you two, but turns out that your dad's best friend's there too, and he saw everything. He ends up offering you a ride instead, but there's no promises that you make it back home for the night.

word count: 9.9k (yeah i went overboard oops..)

warnings/disclaimers: (18+ only!) fem!afab!reader (no use of y/n), this might be the filthiest smut i've ever written, porn w/ plot, reader has a horrible/mean bf, prolly unrealistic car sex but idc, joel can carry reader, thigh riding, praise/degrading, kinda mean joel, oral (m receiving), deepthroating/facefucking, use of pet names (honey, sweetheart, baby, girl, etc), piv, unprotected rough sex, bit of a size kink, joel's hugeee, spanking, bit of choking, creampie/coming inside, literally all that good filthy shit lolll, lil cheesy ass ending

btw this can be for both game/hbo!joel cus i had them both in mind while writing <3

ao3 link | masterlist

Music fills your ears as you take a sip of your drink, sitting on an uncomfortable stool by the bar you were at.

Your boyfriend dragged you here with him, but not out of the kindness of his heart, no. You had made plans with him to spend some time together; to stay in and watch a movie, in hopes that it'd somehow heal your declining relationship, and he thankfully agreed.

That was weeks ago now, and here you were; stuck at a bar with the rest of his friends all because he forgot about his plans with you and insisted that he'd spend the night with the ones he sees more often than you.

It was either you or them, and in his eyes, it was always them.

"Fuck, babe! If you wanna be with me so fucking bad, just come with me— since you won't get off my fucking ass if you don't. Jesus Christ, I mean, you'd think I'd be able to spend one fucking night with my friends.. So fucking clingy."

His words rung in your ears as your eyes got lost in the remaining alcohol in the glass in your hand, slowly swirling it around with dread filling your face and entire being. You knew your boyfriend wasn't the best guy in the world, but you loved him at one point, and your heart clung onto the hope that he would start to actually love you back.

You should've known that your hopes would never be enough.

Snapping yourself out of it, you lift your head up to turn and look at him, his fourth glass of whiskey nearly empty, not giving a single fuck about you. No, his focus was always on his friends.. always on the shit that he prioritized over you.

You could only take so much.

Lifting yourself up from the stool, your feet reach the ground as you make your way over to him, tapping his shoulder to get his attention. Nothing. Again, you tap him even harder, and he finally notices you for the first time in the 30 minutes you've been there.

"What the fuck? What do you want now?" He asks you, scoffing as he whips his head to turn to you.

You gasp at him, mouth open as you stare at him in disbelief. "What the fuck do I want? I want you to fucking pay attention to me, you asshole! Have you even thought about me the entire time we've been here at all?!" You exclaim harshly, your heart racing as your anger rises.

He just shakes his head at you, the annoyance in his face incredibly evident as his friends laugh faintly at the scene in front of them. He doesn't even attempt to apologize to you, the tone in his voice cruel as he scolds you, "I never even fucking wanted you here in the first place, and you didn't get the damn hint. Not my fucking fault, babe."

He turns his body to look back at his friends, completely avoiding you and the situation, and clearly not giving a shit to fix it. Your anger gets the best of you, reaching for his shoulder to harshly pull it back so he could just look at you, but he grabs your wrist, squeezing it tightly as he drags your body to him.

Your face is just inches away from his now, gasps coming out of your mouth as his grip tightens. "Don't you ever fucking touch me like that again.. Get the fuck out of here, bitch." He berates you, his breath oozing of booze as he shoves your wrist to push you away from him.

Your eyes fill with tears as you back away from him, your hand reaching to your wrist to soothe it, rubbing it softly. You glance around the room, embarrassed at what had just occurred. Eyes from all around the bar are on the two of you now, but there's a pair that immediately catch your eye.

Joel.

Your dad's best friend, and the man who practically watched you grow up right in front of his eyes.

His gaze is hard on you, face filled with growing anger as he watches what your dickhead of a boyfriend just did to you. Your face grows cold as you stare at him, eyes flickering from his face to the floor as you grip your bag, not wanting to have him confront you. You were embarrassed enough.

You glance back at your boyfriend one last time, a slight frown fixed on your lips as you rush out the door, gasping for air while your teary eyes pace around your surroundings. Frantically pulling your phone out of your bag, you open the Uber app, wanting to get a ride home and out of here as soon as you could.

"Honey? You alright?"

Your body jumps slightly as you turn your head to stare at the source of the voice, eyes fixed to recognize Joel, his face filled with concern and his gaze now soft on you. You swallow as you breathe out, wiping the tears that were just about to fall from your eyes.

Gaining the courage to speak, you choke out faintly, not wanting to reveal your emotions to him. "J-Joel, I— Yeah, I'm okay.. it's okay. Sorry you had to see that, I.. didn't know you came here.."

You turn your head to stare back down at your phone, weak fingers trying their best to tap on the buttons to get you a driver here as soon as possible.

Joel's hand just reaches over the ones gripping onto your phone, slowly pushing them down and away from your focus to make you look up at him. His eyes are gentle and warm, boring into yours.

"Don't do that, sweetheart.. I've known y'long enough to know that it isn't," His soft words soothe you, looking down at your somber face, "C'mon.. Why don't y'let me take you home? Let's get you outta here.." He offers, moving his hand behind the small of your back to guide you wherever his truck was parked.

You sniffle and nod as you give into his generosity, knowing that you just wanted and needed to be cared for right now, whether or not it was just by Joel's benevolence.

His stare is fixed on you as the two of you make your way to his truck, feeling a sense of responsibility and urge to protect you. You were the loveliest girl he's ever known in his entire life, and it appalled him at how you could be with an asshole like that.

Walking up to the passenger side with you right behind him, he opens the door up for you, gesturing you to get in. "C'mon, honey.. There y'go.." He whispers out, gently shutting it behind you once you're securely inside.

Joel gets in the driver's seat now, putting his seatbelt on after you as he turns the engine on, putting the car in reverse to get out of there, knowing that you probably wanted to leave the area as fast as possible.

Silence fills the space between you as the only sound that can be heard are the tires on the road, making you gulp softly. You then glance at him, clearing your throat and licking your drying lips, "I.. I promise, he's not always like that, Joel.. He's a nice man.. I—"

Your voice fails you as you finish, the uncertainty in your tone not even convincing yourself. You're lying straight through your teeth, and Joel knows it too.

He lets out a heavy scoff, shaking his head as his eyes focus on the road in front of him. Glancing at you, he chuckles, "Right.. A 'nice man', huh?" He starts, making you turn away from him to look down at your lap, fidgeting with your fingers, "A 'nice man' wouldn't do that to you, honey.. Seems to me you've never felt how a real man should treat ya."

Your head turns to look at him quickly, scoffing back at him as you look at him, shocked. You don't even know why you're bothering to defend your shitty boyfriend, but for some reason, you wanted to prove to Joel that you were mature enough to make the right decisions.. to be with the right man.

"You don't even know him, Joel.. I.. I was being clingy, alright? He wanted to hang out with his friends instead of me tonight and I insisted I went too! You.. you'd act like that too if you were ever with me.." You tell him, your voice growing small towards the last part of your little speech, self-deprecation filling your mind along with your boyfriend's words.

It doesn't seem to make Joel any happier, making him suddenly pull over to the side of the road, putting the car in park. He huffs, removing his seatbelt as you follow his movements. Pausing to take a moment to try and compose himself, he finally looks at you, mouth open in disbelief. "You think I'd act like that if I were in his position? Think I'd fuckin' push you away like that? No, honey, god, no— you've got it all wrong."

You swallow as you stare at him, eyes confused and trying to understand what he was implying. He turns away from you for a moment, licking his lips as he breathes in sharply. "No fuckin' man right in the head would ever push you away like that, sweetheart.. No, he's a fuckin' boy who won't even cherish such a.. pretty girl like you."

Joel shakes his head, taking that pause between his words to look at you up and down, exhaling hard as he puts his fist to his face, his arm resting on the side of his window. He just stares back out through the windshield, your body stuck in place, breath hitching as you process it all.

"The hell would your dad think.. f'he ever saw that, huh? Boy's damn lucky I didn't do shit to him.. Lucky I didn't fuck m'up." He exclaims, scoffing softly as he looks at you for a moment.

Your chest rises as you breathe in softly, mind racing to figure out what to say. Your stomach is filled with faint butterflies from Joel's words, yet you knew that he'd never possibly think of you that way. He was just trying to comfort you.. right?

Your eyes are set on your lap, pausing before stuttering out, "Look, Joel.. I get it, you've known me my whole life, but I know what I'm doing. I'm not some dumb little girl anymore.." You finish, lifting your head to look at him, hoping that he'd finally believe you.

Joel's always treated you the same way he has when you were a kid, and it always frustrated the hell out of you. It's no doubt that Joel was an attractive man; you realized that when you were in high school, especially when your friends would come to your house to gawk at him at parties and family gatherings. You weren't blind, but you knew your attraction for him would get you nowhere.. not when he saw you the same way all these years.

At least, to you.

His head finally turns to you, eyes set on yours now, "You're a big girl now, huh.. s'that right? Y'gonna tell me that when you're with an asshole like that?" He chuckles out, cocking his head as he shakes it, "Thought you were better than that, baby.. That you'd actually give yourself to someone who deserves you.."

"Guess you're still that dumb little girl."

His words sting, making your eyes harden with your lips pressed tightly together. You scoff at him, tone harsh and direct, "The fuck do you want from me, Joel? What, y'want me to give myself to a real man like you?" spewing out the words without even giving it a second thought.

He immediately spits out what he's been thinking the entire time, nodding his head almost condescendingly as he inches his face closer to yours, "Yeah, that's what I fuckin' want. Maybe it'll knock some damn sense into that dumb head of yours, huh?”

You grit your teeth, heart thumping out of your chest as you rasp out, "You wouldn't even have the fucking guts, old man," but you knew damn well that you craved it. Craved him and the endless possibilities of what he could do to you. Breathing heavily, you can't deny the slick growing against your folds and through your panties.

Joel just grins at you, his gaze never leaving yours, "S'that right, honey? M' just some.. old man to you?" He snickers, his tongue poking out of his cheek for a moment, "Y'think I never noticed you all these years? Never heard you and your lil' friends talkin' about me?"

You gulp as your lick your drying lips, face softening while your heart races. Shaking your head to deny his accusations, your body freezes at the realization that he knows.

"Yeah.. you're not so slick, baby. Could see you watchin' me all these damn years.. Tellin' everyone how much you want me.. Y'can deny it all you want, sweetheart, but I see right through you. Right through this act."

He smirks as your eyes dart to the floor to avoid his stare, head tilting down as you fidget with your hands. Your body grows cold as you shake your head softly, denying the fact of the matter.

Joel's hand reaches up towards your face, his thumb and index finger lifting your head to look up at him, gripping onto your chin. "Ain't that right?" He chuckles out, making you turn your head to look away from him again nervously, but he doesn't let that slide.

He tuts his tongue, shaking his head as his grasp on your chin tightens just enough to have a firm grip on you, forcing you to look right at him. "No, no, don't do that, honey.. Look at me." He demands, your eyes finally staring into his own. You clear your throat, body shaking slightly as your adamant arousal for him increases.

You begin to stutter out, gulping, "J-Joel..", but he just cuts you off, implicit and direct with his intentions.

"Y’gonna let me fuck some sense into you, baby? That what you want? You’re about a second away from begging me for it, I fuckin’ see it. Can practically smell it off you, too." Joel spits out, his tone cocky and hitting directly to your core as he glances down at your thighs clenching together, “N’ look at you here..”

He chuckles out, removing his fingers from your chin to glide them down to your trembling thighs, his fingers almost pressing into the crevice that your thighs were pressed so tightly together to create. He wets his lips as his dark gaze glances back up to your face, whispering out desperately, "Tell me you want this, honey.. Tell me n' I'll make you forget all about your lil' boyfriend."

You breathe out through your mouth heavily, lips falling a bit open as your mind races. You've thought about this moment for so long now, and you could finally have it..

Fuck it.

Wetting your lips, you quickly put them on Joel's, desperation seething out of you as your eyes shut tightly. You moan into the kiss, Joel groaning into it too as he reaches his hands for your waist, gripping onto it tightly. He almost lifts you up, gesturing for you to get on top of his lap, needing to be close to you. You just follow his request, lifting yourself up from the passenger seat to fall into his lap and straddle his waist, immediately whimpering at the feeling of his bulging crotch pressing into your panties.

You had hoped that wearing a dress tonight would be a good choice, and you were right.

Breaking away from the kiss, the two of you gasp for air, breathing in heavily as you stare at Joel with delirious eyes, nearly high off the taste of him. He just smirks at you, reaching for your cheek to hold onto it, caressing it softly. "Bout' fuckin' time, baby.. Thought you'd never get the hint." He pants out, bringing your face close to press a dirty kiss on your lips, his tongue pushing against yours.

Your impatience gets the best of you, gripping his broad shoulders with your hands as you gain enough leverage to grind your core against his crotch, moaning loudly at the friction. You can already feel how huge he is, your cunt throbbing at the thought of it stretching you out.

His eager hands move down to grip your ass, moving you exactly how he wants, pressing you down onto him even harder. His lips break away from yours, groaning out, "Fuck, baby.. Fuckin' sexy, look at you.." He says, his gaze on your desperate face and glancing down at your hips and crotch grinding against him, "Shit.. That's it.. Pretty girl like you knows how to move."

You whimper at his words, growing wetter at the rough control he has on your body, and you love it. You can't help but let out little gasps, the desire you have for him increasing every time your bodies press together, making you crave his cock even more with each second that passes.

"F-Fuck.. need you, Joel, please.." You whine out, making his eyes flash up at yours as he chuckles, gripping onto your ass even tighter. He just shakes his head, saying, "No, baby.. Y'gonna take what you need from me right here. Wanna s'ya drench my thigh.."

"You do that f'me.. come all pretty & put on a lil' show for me? Maybe I'll give ya what y'want.." Joel mutters out to you, his lips just inches away from yours as he stares into your eyes, filled with lust and an intense ache for you. He wants to savor your body as long as he possibly can.

You nod your head quickly, biting your lower lip gently as you move your legs wrapped around him to sit in between one of his large thighs, moaning out once the rough fabric of his jeans hits your throbbing cunt.

You're soaked through your panties at this point, and you don't waste a second chasing your release. Your hips slowly start to move back and forth, grinding against his thigh as you whine. Licking your lips, you pant out, stuttering out his name repeatedly as your body does all the work for you. You're not even thinking at this point; your mind's completely gone blank and focused on one thing.

"That's it, honey.. Keep goin'.. Pretty lil' thing's so needy." Joel lets out, a low groan coming out as he watches your desperate face, staring right back at him with heavy eyes. It makes his cock grow even harder, knowing that he's finally got you like this.

His hands move to grip your hips, guiding them faster as they move to your ass, squeezing it harshly as a low chuckle escapes his throat. You gasp out at the touch, encouraging you to grind down on him even faster, stimulating your swollen clit as you cry out at the feeling.

Heat flows down to your cunt and lower stomach as your climax slowly begins to build up inside of you, and it's almost like Joel can feel it. Feeling how close you are, with your soaked pussy and slick drenching his jeans and thigh.

Just like he wanted.

One of his hands lifts up to smack your ass, an unrelenting force making you whine out at the sudden strike. It sends butterflies to your stomach and a sharp jolt to your core, forcing a moan out of you and a whine of his name on your tongue.

"Sorry, baby.. Y'got such a nice ass, been waitin' so long to do that.." Joel admits, letting out a faint laugh at your response to him. He cocks his head to the side and looks up at you, mouth slightly gaped open as his tongue plays with his cheek, "Ever knew how fuckin' hard you made me? Skimpin' around with your lil' dresses and shorts, passin' me like you knew what you were doin'. Y'never noticed how I'd.. turn my fuckin' head everytime you walked past me, baby.. Glancin' back at it so I could fuck my fist to the thought of you every night.."

"Fuck, fantasized about this fuckin' moment for so long now.."

Another blow of his large hand to your ass hits you unexpectedly, making you shake above him, your hips never slowing. You bite your lip as you look down at him, hands gripping his body to keep your strength. Butterflies fill your stomach as you hear his confession, making you groan.

Your breaths speed up as your climax increases, jaw falling open as you reply to him, "Did.. Did that on purpose, Joel.. Wanted you to look at me, to want me.. Didn't think it worked, fuck— touched myself all the time cus' of you.."

Your confession goes straight to Joel's cock, making him groan out at your dirty words, his fingers ingraining themselves into your ass as he moves your hips how he wants, wanting to push you to the edge already.

"Oh, it worked, honey.. Fuckin' gorgeous girl like you, what'd make y'think it didn't? I'd be a damn fool.." He grunts out, tone low right in your ear as you whimper, your clit growing incredibly sensitive as you grow even closer. "Y'gonna come for me, baby? Feel how fuckin' soaked you are f'me.. You're shaking.. Know y'can do it, come for me, sweet girl.. S'what you wanted this whole time, huh?" Joel encourages you, his hands moving from on top of your dress to underneath it, squeezing your bare ass with just your tiny panties barely covering yourself.

The direct contact of his rough hands on your flesh has you gasping out, the sudden coolness of your skin from his hot hands creating the perfect mix. You just nod your head eagerly as you stare into Joel's eyes, biting your bottom lip the more your aching cunt grinds on him. You stammer out, eyes hazy, "Mhm, f-fuck, Joel.. M'gonna come, p-please.."

Joel just smirks as he stares at your worn out face, nodding his head to encourage you. Sliding his hands down closer to your clothed pussy, his fingertips glide across your lips, your slick coating through your panties and onto his fingers. The feeling of it makes you hiss out as Joel whispers out to you, "Gonna give you what you need, baby.. C'mon now, let me see you.. Come for me now, be a good girl.."

Those words were the final push that you needed, making your cunt clench tightly around nothing, wishing that it was Joel's cock instead. You shut your eyes as you cry out, hands gripping onto Joel's body even tighter as he coos, whispering filthy, encouraging words into your ear while his hands help you chase your release. His hands on your ass begin to slow down, finally letting the weight of your hips rest on his thigh as your climax ends, the fast thumping in your chest slowing.

Breathing heavily, you let out small pants, chest rising up and down as you open your eyes to look at Joel. You give him a tired smile, giggling softly at the state you were in, and Joel grins back up at you, moving his hands up to hold onto your face. He presses a firm kiss on your lips, relishing the taste of you on his tongue. Breaking away from your lips, his thumbs caress your cheeks, looking into your eyes, "Did so good, honey.. Y'wanna return the favor? Prove to me that you deserve more?"

Your eyes widen at his words, nodding your head desperately as you lick your lips, hoping that he's implying what you thought he was. To be sure, you eagerly ask him, "O-Of course, Joel.. What d'you want me to do? Anything you want.."

Joel's lips curl up, grinning at the tone in your voice as he drags one of his hands down to yours to grab it. Guiding your hand, your palm reaches to his hard cock all pent up against his tight jeans, making you gasp out as a deep groan escapes his throat.

"Feel that, baby? Need your lips wrapped around me.. Y'gonna do that for me?" Joel mutters out to you, his gaze dark and set on you completely. Your breath hitches in your throat at his request, and the thought of the mere act makes your mouth water, making you nod your head quickly. "Yeah, fuck, I wanna do that for you.. Been wanting it for so long, Joel.." You admit to him, this time using your hand to squeeze his bulge, feeling how much he really needed you.

He lets out a faint moan, nodding his head back at you as he smirks at your hand squeezing him so good. He questions you, "Wanted what for so long, huh? Wanna hear it, honey."

Your cheeks grow flushed at his words, gulping slightly and hesitating to respond as you look away from him, which just makes him urge you on even more. "C'mon now, you already came all over my fuckin' thigh, I know y'not gettin' all shy on me now, sweetheart.." He teases you, chuckling as he presses his hand to your face, gently squeezing it, but you know his intentions are clear. He has so much power over you; more than you even thought.

His big hands grip onto your face, forcing you to turn to look at him. It's filthy, and you can't help but love it. He nods at you, a final push, and you finally stammer out at him, throat dry, "Wanted your.. cock, Joel.. W-Wanted to suck your cock for so long— fuck, please, Joel.."

He just lets out a faint laugh and nods his head, releasing your face from his hands and patting your cheek as if he was proud of you. "That's it, honey, wasn't so hard now, was it?" He teases you, licking his lips as his eyes flicker to your own, imagining them around him already. "Let's go to the back, baby.. S'gonna be more comfortable that way."

You nod at him as his strong hold is back on you, lifting your hips gently to guide you towards the back. Once the two of you are back there, Joel's legs are laid out on the entirety of the backseat, his back leaning against the door while you're set in between him; the perfect position and view for him to watch you put on a show.

Joel seems to be impatient waiting for you to make your move, as he cocks his head to the side and stares at you. He questions, "What y'waiting for, baby? You're a big girl, aren't you? Don't need me to tell you what to do now, do I?"

You lick your lips nervously as you stare at him, giving him a small, anxious smile. It's not because you've never sucked cock before, but this was Joel, and you wanted it to be good for him. More than you've ever been with anyone else before, and especially your 'boyfriend'.

"N-No, Joel, I got it.." You respond to him, leaning your body closer as your hands reach for the zipper of his jeans. Unbuttoning them, you pull them down a bit with the help of Joel's hips lifting, and your eyes immediately latch onto his huge cock, bulging against his boxers.

You sigh out as your hands glide from his large thighs to his underwear, reaching underneath the hem of the fabric to grasp onto his cock, pulling it out. The mere sight of it makes your jaw fall open slightly, gasping and mouth watering at how thick he was. Fuck, he's the biggest you've ever seen. It made you a bit nervous, but so fucking aroused, as you feel the slick growing between your folds because of it.

Your reaction makes Joel chuckle, leaning his head a bit forward to get a better look at the expression on your face. He lifts his hand to press his fingers against your cheek, holding onto your jaw and caressing your cheek with his thumb. It makes you look back up at him as he questions you, "Too big for you, honey? You ever even sucked cock before?"

You gulp as you purse your lips, nodding your head slightly, "I.. Yeah, I have, but fuck— never this big, Joel.." You respond to him truthfully, your stomach filling up with butterflies of a mixture of nerves and arousal.

He grins at you, laughing a bit cockily, "Don't worry, baby.. Gonna take me real good, right? Make me proud?" He challenges you, the fingers placed on your cheek now sliding down towards your lips, gently pressing the tips of them right at the entrance of your mouth. "Let's start off with these, huh? Wanna see if y'can take em' like you're gonna take me.."

You whimper at his words that hit you right to your core, making you clench around nothing. You couldn't wait for him to fuck you already. You just nod your head slowly, eyes never leaving his as you gently open your mouth for him. Joel takes this as an invitation to continue, slowly moving his index and middle fingers in your mouth.

"Suck on em', baby.. Lemme see what y'can do.." Joel tells you, his head lifting up a bit as his dark gaze looks down at your lips. You just obey him, closing your lips around his fat fingers as he inches them further and further in your mouth towards your throat. Your tongue falls flat underneath his fingers, sucking on them gently as you lift your hands to hold onto his wrist.

Joel starts to grin at you, humming out in satisfaction as he encourages you, "There we go, pretty fuckin' lips.. Show me how you'd suck my cock, c'mon now.."

You moan around his fingers, both of your hands gripping onto his wrist as you use it to pull them out of your mouth, guiding them back in deep as if they really were his cock. You shut your eyes at the feeling of it, reaching further down your throat as you moan again. The taste of him is intoxicating.

Your eyes open back up to stare at him intently, and Joel gives you a light smile, making you feel that sense of pride that you've always craved from him. "Good fuckin' girl.. Shit, lookin' so good like this, baby.." He mutters out lowly, a faint groan coming out.

Before you can continue, he pulls his fingers out of your mouth, immediately making you feel empty. You whine out softly at your disappointment which makes him chuckle, reassuring you, "C'mon, honey— Think y'ready now. Make it good for me, yeah?"

You nod eagerly, wanting nothing more than to please him as much as you could. You lean a bit back, giving yourself a bit more room to get in the right position as your hands reach for his cock again. Wrapping a hand around him, you notice that he isn't even fully hard yet, and he's already so fucking big. It doesn't ease your nerves in the slightest, but the ache you feel for him in your cunt distracts you from it completely.

Lowering your head and body, your lips inch closer and closer to the fat head of his cock while your hand slowly strokes him up and down, trying to get him fully hard for your mouth to take him. You look up at him as your lips wrap around the tip of it, sucking onto it gently as you feel him finally harden in your mouth.

Your tongue does its work, circling around him and licking the tip of it while you suck, your eyes never leaving his as his own flicker all over your face; your eyes, your lips. Joel lets out a low groan, reaching over to your head to hold onto it to have some leverage to encourage you.

You slowly lower your head now, taking his cock deeper into your mouth as you moan around it, sending vibrations through Joel's entire body as he hisses at the feeling. "Fuck, that's it.. Deeper, baby, lemme see how much y'can take.." Joel's words fill your ears as you continue, your mouth barely able to take him all the way to the base.

His cock hits the back of your throat, making you gag at the sudden intrusion. Your eyes water as you blink, still staring back up at him to see that reaction on his face. You notice how it twists in pleasure, his eyebrows furrowing for a moment, and you lift your head back up to gasp for air, immediately lowering your lips back onto him so you don't waste any second that passes.

The noises that Joel makes are filthy, filling your ears and making them burn as your mouth never falters, jaw stretched out as wide as possible for you to take all of him. Joel's grunts become louder, and you take that as sign that you're doing things right, which makes your body fill with pride.

Closing your eyes, you relish the feeling of his heavy cock on your tongue, the fat tip of it letting out small spurts of pre-cum down your throat. The taste of him only makes you push your head down even further, attempting to take him all the way to the base, but he hits the back of your throat, making you gag out at the unexpected impact.

Before you can lift your head up, Joel's grip on your head tightens as he holds you there, his throat letting out low pants as he stares right at your lips connecting to the base of his cock. Groaning out, he laughs faintly, saying, "Take it, honey, doin' so good for me, f-fuck.."

Barely processing it all, he uses his other hand to slap your face almost condescendingly, and it just makes you moan around him, your throat clenching and eyes opening up to look at him. You didn't even know you liked that, but Joel's power over you has you nearly seeing stars.

Joel lets out a chuckle, all mean and teasingly, "Fuck, yeah.. Dirty girl, you like that shit?" He asks you, and you moan around his cock again, nose breathing in heavily for air as your eyes droop down a bit, nearly high off the feeling of him using your throat. Laughing out, a smirk appears on his face as his hand's grip on you pulls you back up for a moment so you can breathe properly.

Without him even having to encourage you, your mouth is back on him once you catch your breath, desperate to please him and taste his cock again. It makes Joel grunt out, snickering out at you, "Fuck, you're worse than I thought, baby.. You act so innocent, but you're takin' cock like s'all you're meant for.."

You hum against him, eyes looking back up as you take him deeper with your tongue flattening underneath his shaft, and it drives Joel crazy. He just hisses out, hand on your head once again, "Shit.. I'm right, ain't I? Pretty throat’s been craving this, huh? Lil’ boyfriend couldn’t satisfy you.. Thas’ okay, m’ right here now, honey..”

His words send a throbbing pang to your cunt, growing wetter at the thought of him and knowing that he's satisfying your needs more than your boyfriend ever could. It makes you realize that Joel was right; that he was the real man that you needed.

Joel's hands start to guide your lips now, moving your head up and down on him as he watches his cock disappear back down your throat over and over again. Your jaw falls slack as you let him use you just how he wants, eyes watering with tears threatening to fall as his thick cock continues to stretch your lips and throat so good.

The look on your face is nearly pornographic, your lips shaped tightly right around the girth of his cock as if it was a hole meant for him to fuck. The sight of you makes Joel's cock twitch, moaning lowly as he pants out, “What would y’family think if they saw you like this, honey? Lookin’ like a fuckin’ whore with my cock down your throat, like the fuckin’ slut you are. That’s just what you are, right, baby? A lil’ whore for me, s’that it? Gonna let me keep you.. fuck you when I want? Know that’s what you want..”

You just nod your head eagerly at him, eyes rolling to the back of your head at the sound of his nasty words, and it feels so fucked up knowing that it's turning you on so much. You've always imagined what it'd be like for Joel to just use you how he wants, imagining how it'd be like, and now it's finally happening.

Joel chuckles out at your response to him, and he grunts out as his climax builds up, unexpectedly pulling your mouth off of him as you gasp out for air. Your face looks confused and disheveled, but Joel assures you, "Don't wanna come just yet, baby, we got time for that later. Wanna be in you now."

Before you can respond to him, Joel leans in towards you, his hands reaching out for your body to move you how he wants. Grasping onto your sides, he lifts you slightly to turn you around, moving you to get on your knees to crawl and face away from him. Your body just follows his hands until he has you where he wants, getting onto your hands and knees, bent over for him to stare out the window.

Your breathing grows heavier, gulping softly as you turn your head to look back at him. Joel doesn't waste a second to immediately cherish the view in front of him, his hands now roaming from your calves right up to your thighs, savoring your skin on his fingertips that are now inching towards your aching core.

Your dress is the perfect length for him to see you completely; not too long and not too short, but it's too much coverage for Joel's liking anyways.

His hands move up towards your ass, instinctively pushing the fabric covering you up and over, resting it on your lower back so his view is right of your clothed cunt. Your wet slick has seeped through the light fabric, making Joel chuckle out as he stares right at it. His eyes make you blush, a bit of embarrassment filling your cheeks evidently as you look away from him for a moment.

He just glances up at you and grins, shaking his head at your reaction, "No need to get shy, baby.. S'hot, y'know that? Knowin' this pretty pussy's all soaked for me? Shit.." Joel lets out, laughing faintly as his stare returns back to your cunt, hands sliding back down to your ass. His thumb runs across your folds pressed so tightly together by your thighs, making you gasp and shiver out at the touch.

He moves his other hand now, index and middle finger sliding just beneath the side of your panties to get a good grip of it, pulling it to the side so he can see your throbbing hole and wet folds. It's a dirty scene right in front of him, but it has his cock twitching at the sight.

"Fuck, look at that.. Need me that bad, baby?" Joel whispers out to you, his eyes flickering up to your desperate face and back down. His stare and words make you whine out, your hole clenching around nothing as you swallow.

You do need him that bad, and you were getting impatient.

The action makes Joel sigh out, his thumb now sliding against your bare cunt and through your lips, gathering up how wet you were. His thumb now finds your entrance, pressing in just the tip of it as his eyes move back up to your face, eager to see your reaction.

You just moan out and clench around it desperately, eyes shutting for a moment as your heart races. "Fuck, Joel, just fuck me already, p-please.. Need it so bad.." You beg him, biting your bottom lip harshly as your wide eyes stare into his own.

He just licks his lips as he hears you, considering it for a moment. "Y'think you can take me like this, honey? Don't need me to do anything else? Might hurt.." He asks you, his concerns still evident despite the position you two were in.

You just nod your head at him quickly, whining out softly, "Yeah, fuck, I can take it, please— just need you, Joel.." Your chest rises as you breathe in heavily, wanting him to fuck you already.

Joel smirks at your pleads, the desperation getting the best of you, and it makes his cock even harder. He just nods up at you and removes his thumb from your cunt, shifting his knees and hips closer to your ass as he grips his cock with his hand.

He glides the tip of it up and down your folds, gathering the slick as much as he could. Pressing it against your entrance, he looks up at your face, his other hand gripping onto your hip as he slowly eases it into you. The stretch of him makes you hiss out, shutting your eyes at the intrusion and how big he is.

You stammer out, "F-Fuck, Joel.." as you pant softly, taking in deep breaths to let your walls relax and adjust to him as much as you could. He just grips onto your hip even tighter, giving you a sense of guidance and reassurance.

Joel's heart races at the feeling of your walls clench around him, feeling how tight you are. Grunting out, he pushes himself even deeper inside of you, still taking his time, "Good girl, baby.. Doin' so good, y'feel so good, shit.." He gasps out, his eyes now fixed onto the sight of his cock entering your stretched out cunt.

"Tight fuckin' pussy.. Haven't had one like this in so long, fuck.."

Your breaths speed up with each inch that fills you up, the girth of him creating a stinging ache between your thighs that were nearly trembling. The grasp your walls has on his cock makes it almost harder for him to move further, so he pauses— taking a second for you to adjust.

"You okay, honey? Doin' so good for me, such a sweet girl.." He murmurs out to you, almost panting out as he hisses out. His hands gently caress your lower back and ass, reassuring you as he bends over a bit to press small kisses on your skin. It makes you shiver, nodding your head in response to him, "M' okay, Joel.. Feels so good, p-please move.."

His heavy eyes look back up at you, acknowledging your request and smiling softly. It sends butterflies through your stomach at the thought of him caring so much about you, making sure that you were comfortable and enjoying yourself just as much as he was.

He presses one last kiss to your lower back, pressing his hands on it as he lifts himself back up. Gripping onto your hips, he nods at you and finally pushes himself all the way inside of your throbbing cunt, his hips now flushed against your own. The sudden movement makes you gasp out, your hands holding your body up attempting to squeeze onto the fabric of the seat.

"J-Joel!" You moan his name, eyes closing harshly at the feeling of the fat tip of his cock pressing so deep inside of you, making your involuntary walls constrict around him. It creates a burn in your lower stomach, your body growing hot at the feeling. It makes Joel grunt out, his neck lifting up for a moment to take a breath as he looks back down at your hips connected to his, hands caressing your skin.

He rocks his hips against yours, moving just slightly to get some friction as he allows you to adjust, groaning, "That's it, there y'go.. Knew you could take it, baby, fuck— Feelin' so good wrapped around me, s'it what you wanted?" He asks you, eyes flickering up at your face. Biting your lip, you nod, stammering out, "Mmphf— Y-You're.. so deep, shit, feels so good.."

He chuckles out, stare fixed on your worn out face as he pulls his hips back a bit, taking his time to thrust back into you as deep as he could. He wanted to prove to himself that what you were saying was true.

"S'that right, sweetheart? So deep? Y'feel me right here?" He asks, moving one of his hands just beneath your body and sliding it to your lower stomach, pressing harshly against it. It makes you gasp, feeling the bulge of his cock imprinting itself. You whine, breathing out, "O-Oh, fuck, Joel.. Yeah, feel you right there.."

He just grins at your response, muttering out, "That's fuckin' right, honey.. n' I'm the only one who's ever been this deep, huh?" He urges you on, head leaning a bit closer to you as his hips press tightly against your pussy.

You cry out, shutting your eyes for a moment as you nod, unable to fully form a coherent sentence for him. He just tuts his tongue, head shaking disapprovingly as he pulls his hips back all of the way, not taking a second to wait to slam himself back into you.

It makes you grunt, eyes shooting open as his words fill your ears, the slight mean tone in his voice making your face burn, "Asked you a question, baby.. So you tell me, your lil' boyfriend ever fuck you this good, honey? Fill this pretty pussy this deep?"

Your mind grows hazy, cheeks flushed as you attempt to spit out what he wants to hear, "N-No, Joel.. I, I-"

"No? No? C'mon, haven't even really fucked you yet n' you're already actin' so dumb.. S'that it, cock just make you all stupid for me?"

Tears fill your eyes as his hips pull and push right back into you again, giving you another thrust of his thick cock as you sob out, "J-Joel, shit, no, it jus'.. feels too good, p-please.." You moan, feeling the tight grip his fingers have on your ass nearly imprinting themselves into your skin.

"C'mon now.. Louder, baby, lemme hear it.. Tell me, wanna hear it loud n' clear.. Answer my question.." He pushes you, tone growing louder and strict. His thrusts begin to create an increasing rhythm that makes your jaw drop open at the feeling, his cock stretching your tight walls out with each push of his hips.

"No, Joel! N-Never.. never fucked me this good, oh fuck, never.. this d-deep.. shit!" You blurt out, mind barely thinking as you spit the words out. Eyes rolling to the back of your head, your brain and body goes numb, shuttering at the feeling of his unrelenting movements as your head hangs low, staring at your hands gripping the seat.

Joel's grunts and moans surround you completely as your ears begin to ring, his faint laugh and sudden smack of his hand on your ass snapping you out of it at the sting, "That's right.. pretty girl knows her place, fuck," He rushes out, suddenly grasping onto your hair to pull your head back, making you cry out, "Knew you'd be so good for me, honey.. Actin' like a fuckin' slut, takin' my cock this good.."

You breath out heavily, panting out as he holds back your head by his rough grip on your hair, pulling you back a bit to turn your head to try and get a look at him. His words make your pussy clench around him even tighter, turned on at his degradation.

You hum softly, whining as you nod your head gently, tears filling your eyes and threatening to fall as his pace grows even faster, now slamming into your cunt over and over again. He chuckles and grins at the slight sight of your eyes filling up, making him pout condescendingly at you.

"What? M' I wrong, honey? Y'gonna tell me you haven't been practically begging me to fuck you all these years? To treat you like this; like the slut you are, huh?" He taunts you, pulling his cock out all the way to rest against your entrance, and slamming it back in as deep as he could, "Know it's all you've wanted.. all you've ever fantasized about.. Y'don't gotta do that anymore, baby.. cus' I'm right here. Gonna treat you like the fuckin' whore you are.. That's what you are to me.. My fuckin' slut."

A tear finally falls down your cheek, making your lungs fill with air as you pant, mouth falling open and cunt convulsing around him. The tip of his cock keeps hitting the deepest spot inside of you, nearly making you blank out as his words make your cheeks flush. "J-Joel, I—"

Before you can stammer anything else out, Joel's grip on your hair now pulls your body up completely, making your back hit his strong chest, despite it being covered by his tight shirt. Your breath hitches in your throat, barely able to think as his sudden hand lets go of your hair and wraps it around your neck, holding your body right against him.

Keeping you still with the control he has, you moan out and flutter your eyes shut, body shaking and tightening up at him choking you. The back of your head lays on his shoulder, resting it there as he leans in close to your ear, whispering out, "Gonna ruin you for everyone else, baby.. Every time anybody else fucks you, you're gonna think of me; me and my fuckin' cock making you fall apart.. Y'gonna come runnin' back to me.. every fuckin' time— M' gonna make sure of it."

Your eyes open hazily, widening at his words as the grip he has on your throat suddenly pushes you away, making your chest and upper body fall down against the seat, arms not even having any power to hold yourself up. His hands and fingertips sink back into your lower back, now pressing your stomach flush against the seat as it creates an angle that makes you feel him deeper than you've ever felt before.

You can barely process it now, your mouth spewing incoherent noises and words as he holds you down, practically using you just how he pleases. Your hips pushed against the seat are constantly being driven by his thrusts, your pubic bone and sensitive clit being stimulated with each shove.

It makes your eyes shut tightly, unable to control yourself as you pant and moan out for him repeatedly, your hands shaking as you can barely get yourself to hold onto something. His cock buries itself inside of your throbbing cunt over and over again, Joel laughing at the squelching noises that your pussy was letting out.

Before he can say anything, a ring fills his ears that suddenly grab his attention, making his head turn as his movements slow just enough to grasp your attention to make you turn your head and look at the source too.

Your phone, laying on the middle compartment right next to Joel; he reaches for it and sees who's calling, making him grin and chuckle out.

Your boyfriend.

"Well, would y'look at this, honey? Talkin' about runnin' back.." Joel mutters out, turning the phone towards your direction for you to see it too. It just makes your eyes widen, cunt clenching as Joel tests you, "Why don't we let em' hear what you're up to, baby? See how much he's missin' out, huh?"

You know it's so fucking wrong; yet, so fucking right.

Joel doesn't even wait for your response, and just licks his lips and presses answer, putting it on speaker as he lays the phone flat against your back, lifting one of his hands on your hips to smack your ass. The force creates a loud spank, filling the phone's speakers as Joel's hips begin to move at a faster pace again.

It makes you mewl out, tears falling down your face again as your hands try to grip on the seat you were laying on. His grunts are loud and lewd, the snap of his hips smacking against your ass and thighs as he makes you take his cock repeatedly, "There y'go, just like that.." He mumbles out.

Your boyfriend's voice fills your ears now, confusion and the evident drunken tone making you roll your eyes, "The fuck? What was that, baby?"

Before you can even respond, Joel cuts you off, doing the job right for you.

"Y'don't gotta worry about her anymore.. M' takin' real good care of her now.. Ain't that right, baby?" Joel groans out, smacking your ass again as he leans in closer towards your back, nearly laying his chest against you. You just whine out in response, nodding your head quickly as Joel urges you further, tutting his tongue, "No, no, lemme hear it, honey.. Why don't y'tell him yourself? Let him know how good you're takin' my cock.."

Your body and face grows hot, licking your dry lips as you stutter, "F-Feels so g-good, Joel.. You're takin' such good care of me now, I—"

"What the fuck, babe? No, no, this can't be fucking happening."

Joel laughs loudly at your boyfriend's words, leaning his head closer to speak right into your phone, "Oh, but it is, boy. Not m'fault you couldn't fuck your girl this good. But, wait.. she isn't 'your girl' anymore now, is she?" He asks him, the arrogant tone spewing out as his voice lowers.

He reaches his hand over to your neck again, wrapping it around and squeezing it tightly as he ruts himself in you fast and hard, the pace and the hold of his fingers making you scream out his name.

"You fucking asshole, I'll fucking—"

Joel just cuts him off, sighing out annoyingly as he shakes his head, "Shut the fuck up. Don't you fuckin' call her again, much less lay a hand on her. You do that n' I find out?— I will find you. N' I'll make sure to break every bone in your fuckin' body, boy."

As your boyfriend gasps at his words, he begins to stutter some pathetic shit that Joel doesn't wanna bother hearing anymore; so he ends the call, tossing your phone to the side to focus back on you completely.

Shutting his eyes, Joel sighs out as he presses firm, yet gentle kisses to your back, his hips now going a bit slower, but deliberately harder so you can feel every inch of him, cherishing your tight cunt with each second that passes.

"There we go, honey.. Took care of that for you, y'don't gotta worry about him now, fuck— M' gonna make you feel so good.. y'won't need anyone else.." Joel whispers in your ear, laying his chest and body completely over your back as his entire being consumes you, his cock filling you to the brim with each push and pull.

His chin rests just below your shoulder now, grunting into your ear as he mutters filthy words into it, "That right, baby? M' I the only one you need? Gonna let me be the only one who can fuck this pretty little pussy? F-Fuck, please.. lemme hear it, shit— need to hear you say it.."

The pace of his movements start to speed up again as you stammer out, "Y-Yeah, Joel, you're the only one I need, fuck!" his cock twitching at your confession as you continue, "Only need you, only want your cock in me, please— need you to fill me up, make me yours, Joel.."

He moans at your words, panting out as he feels himself growing closer at your pleads, and you're right with him too. His cock hits that spot in your core over and over again, making you wail and sob out at the feeling of your stomach tightening and coiling, biting your lower lip harder to try and stop you from blabbering out.

"Don't do that, baby, no, wanna hear you— please, make those pretty lil' noises for me, honey, y'sound so pretty like this," Joel blurts out, unable to even think as he slams his hips against your ass, creating a sting that makes you lightheaded with your climax growing furiously, "Gonna make me come so deep inside you, baby, jus' like you want.."

His words hit something inside you, making you suddenly see stars as your pussy convulses around his cock, clenching and grasping onto him tightly as you come, your slick coating your thighs and his cock completely. Your body shakes and trembles as he fucks you through it, laughing faintly at your sudden orgasm. "Oh, fuck— there y'go baby, pretty fuckin' girl, take it.." Joel moans out, panting even louder and faster as he chases his own release.

You cry out, your cunt being overstimulated by his unrelenting thrusts as he buries himself even harder and deeper into you, making you spew out, "Shit, Joel! C-Come inside me, fill me up, please, please, need it so—"

Joel's loud grunts cut you off, feeling the sudden warmth of his come spill inside of you completely as he slams his cock in as deep as he can, making sure you feel every inch of him and his come. His hips rock into you, grinding his pelvis harshly to try and get even a fraction of him deeper inside of you. It makes you wince out, your sore cunt oversensitive at the feeling.

His body completely gives out on top of yours, his breaths filling your ears as you both take each other in, falling from your highs and trying your best to relax. You laugh softly as you process everything that's just happened, and Joel does the same, pressing small kisses to the back of your neck as his hand lets it go.

"Shit, honey— so fuckin' good.. You alright?" He mutters out, chuckling as you turn your head slightly to look at him, taking in your worn and fucked out face. You just nod your head at him, feeling a bit hazy as you smile, laughing out, "Yeah.. Never better."

Joel's eyes glimmer as he swallows, pushing aside the hair that was covering your face as he admires you, grinning softly at you, "Should've done this years ago.. Y'been holdin' back on me, baby." He murmurs out, his smile widening.

You press a small kiss to his lips, licking your own as you correct him, "Been trying to get you to for years, Joel.. not my fault it took this long." He just shakes his head amusingly, pursing his lips.

"Well.. Y'wanna stay with me for the night? Maybe I can teach y'another lesson on how a.. 'real man' should treat ya?" He proposes to you, laughing at his reference of what he said to you earlier and what started this in the first place.

You just smile at him and nod your head eagerly:

"Wouldn't want anything more."

a/n: kinda wanted to make joel threaten/hit reader's bf, but i figured joel's idea of revenge was so much sweeter <3

this is by far my fav fic i've written out of my 1st three, so i’d love some feedback from you all! ♥️

wanna be on a taglist? fill out the google form in my pinned post!

reblogs are appreciated!

send me requests & i might write it for you! :)

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luveline · 10 days

Note

May I pretty please request an emergency medicine doctor!reader x Hotch blurb? I’d love to see both of them in careers that are difficult, yet despite that they still manage to be together because they understand each other so much. Maybe something with the rest of the team as well if it’s possible 🫶🏼🥹

Emily used to think Hotch would never be happy again. She’d drive him home after work, pick him up in the mornings, and she’d think about how miserable he was, the kind of misery that hooks you in its grip, has you turning to wine or whiskey just to keep breathing.

She thought for sure he’d buckle. When Hayley died, he’d have to. How could you not? But he kept going and proved she should’ve had more faith in him, becoming the father Jack deserves, and, surprisingly, your partner.

“You’re squeezing me too tight,” you mumble, just loud enough for Emily and the others to hear you where Hotch hugs you a few feet from the dinner table. “Why are you trying to break my back?”

“I haven’t seen you in three weeks.”

“Eighteen days is not three weeks.”

“It might as well be.” Hotch peels away from you to give you a once over. Emily’s half jealousy and half fondness, seeing him love someone so obviously. “Are you hungry? I ordered for you.”

“Super hungry. Do I smell like antiseptic?”

“No, just soap.”

“Well, that’s not much better.”

Hotch puts his arm behind your back and guides you to the table. The team squeeze out hellos between mouthfuls and you take your place at Hotch’s side behind a steaming plate. You’re as ravenous as the rest of them after your long shift; Morgan can hardly get a word out of you for the first ten minutes, though he tries, and you attempt to be polite. Emily nudges him until he gets the hint to stop.

“Here,” Hotch says, putting a heaping of his food onto your plate with a large spoon.

“Stop.” You attack his spoon with a fork.

“It’s fine, you like it more than I do.”

“Don’t care. You need your energy. I’m going to make you carry me up the stairs home.”

He’s unintimidated. “Ah.”

“Ah,” you echo. “You sound so doubtful.”

Hotch looks like he might try to keep flirting with you, but he gives in quickly, betraying how much he’s missed you with a hand slipping under the table. Emily sees his fingers curl over your knee, averting her gaze with a feigned sip of coke.

She can deduce the silent question you ask one another about anyways.

“We’ll have dessert,” you say. We won’t skip out early. “What are you having, Dr. Reid?”

Hotch orders you three different things, which you eat fast.

“They’re not feeding you at the hospital?” Rossi asks.

“Three emergency transfers in twelve hours,” you explain, slouching now into Hotch’s side, one slow inch at a time. “I didn’t have time for much.”

“That’s not healthy,” Hotch murmurs in concern.

“I’m sure I can ask any of your friends about your eating habits and find a similar schedule,” you brush him off, raising your gaze to Emily, then Morgan, then Rossi and Reid. Everyone smiles the same way. Hotch is caught, and his laugh jostles your shoulder.

“Have you ever heard the saying, ‘do as I say, and not as I do?’” he asks.

God, Emily thinks with a huff of a laugh she can’t contain, get a room.

“He likes that one,” Spencer says.

“I don’t doubt it.” You lift your lips to his jaw and press a peck to the line of it. One, then two. “Maybe that’s why we've lasted as long as we have. Mutual disregard for our wellbeing.”

“And a great deal of care for each other,” Rossi says, nodding sagely. “This is why my marriages never last.”

“Is that why?” Spencer asks.

“You’ve gotten to be quite the lark.”

“Lark,” Hotch whispers to you. Emily, sitting at his other side, might be the only one who hears, the others distracted by Spencer and Rossi’s ensuing squabble.

“Scoundrel,” you agree.

“How’s your head now?”

“It’s gonna be a hundred percent better if you give me that,” you say, pointing hopefully at his full drink.

He doesn’t hesitate to press it into your hand. Emily would never suspect you hadn’t seen one another for weeks; you move and he follows. You rub your cheek against his shoulder. He touches his nose to your hair, his eyes shuttering closed for one stolen, blissful second. “Missed you,” he says under his breath.

Emily looks away with a smile. Hotch isn’t hopelessly miserable anymore.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

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neil-gaiman · 6 months

Note

Hello Mr Neil,

I want to share how I feel about Sherryl the supermodel from Good Omens. You've answered a question previously when someone felt that her representation was lacking empathy (re the visual effects note in the script book, although the scene was cut), and I want to offer my thoughts to help people who felt that way about Sherryl.

The book (Good Omens, not the scripts, which I haven't read) plays with dark topics and makes them absurd and fun, aiming the jabs at the systems that (mis)guide or harm people (there are Beliefs, the People who Believe them, and the odd ways of living that make sense to them). Famine's D-Plan sums up the diet industry and a culture of starvation: of course we don't laugh /at/ Sherryl, we understand (because of everything the novel sets up) that like every other human she does her best with the frameworks she's got. It's empathetic, because that's what Good Omens is. Understanding that let me reframe the knee-jerk reaction I had on my first read of the scene in the book.

[For the TV show, though, as you've explained in the past, certain things had to be adapted to the time. I wonder sometimes - because I know that you do these things well - how you felt about approaching Sherryl nearly 30 years later.]

I think the trouble for me was that the scene in the book felt cruel at first. Now, I think 'A skeleton in a Dior dress' beautifully sums up the sacrifice of her humanity to become New York's top model. It's death dressed up - that's how such extremely-ill supermodels *should* appear to us if only we were unblinkered. One should see plainly the actual violence in an emaciated person's appearance. Maybe growing up with early 2000s aggressive body-shaming British TV shows and an overweight mother of Sherryl's generation as well as personal experience of anorexia made the 'skeleton' image feel cruel, now-overdone and recognisable to the nastiest unhealed bits in my psyche.

I think the frightened human animal in me initially recoiled from the dehumanisation. The pit of me jerked at the descriptions of Sherryl that felt like real insults, pulled straight from mainstream body-shaming media of my formative years. Of course, Good Omens predates this - thin was in, religiously, and the scene was subversive then - but that was my initial bodily feeling, not a thoughtful response. I describe it to illustrate where the challenge was, after we've gone from skinny worship in the 90s, to domestic skinny enforcement, to skinny shame, to wherever we are now in the popular orthorexic fitness culture and clean-eating minefield etc etc. Starvation dehumanises, and Sherryl was sick to the point of being inhuman - the scene under a microscope might feel complicit in dehumanisation to the sensibilities of teens and young adults today (for the same reason that people in Trafalgar Square can't see England), but within the book it humanises Sherryl by showing you plainly what awful thing has happened to her.

What the book did for me was let me delight in a sense of humour that makes difficult things totally absurd and therefore perfectly understandable. It told me, everyone is doing their best (to the best of their understanding), and when the fun-poking poked at my own pressure points, it said, lovingly, yes, you too. Many things about the book are like laughing with a friend or receiving a warm hug - it makes the big things so silly, and shared, and okay.

Thanks :) x <3

I am glad that is how you saw her. That is how we saw her. (I'm reminded of the only time I was ever at a high fashion event, where I found myself profoundly shocked by the incredible thinness of the models, and how sorry for them I felt, and how I wanted to feed them soup and stew and sandwiches. And of a high fashion model I knew a little, when she went out with a friend of mine, who told me that some girls she knew used heroin to stop the hunger pains, injecting themselves between their toes, and later I learned that my friend broke up with her when he learned she was a heroin addict.)

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netegf · 7 months

Text

Hate It When You Leave

pairing: f!reader x rafe cameron

plot: you are trying to cope with the fact that you're hopelessly in love with your best friend. he's trying to cope with the fact that you don't go after the things you want... including him.

warnings: 18+, best friends to lovers trope, use of Y/N, mentions of alcohol and past drug use, non-graphic references to violence, some angst & jealousy, fluff and smut (public sex, teasing, oral female receiving)

word count: 6.5 k

There are parts about wearing your heart on your sleeve that no one ever talks about.

For instance, that it's hard to fix your face when the threads keeping that heart together feel like they're getting tugged, cut, and re-bunched into an ugly knot.

The water bottle you're holding hardly has any life left. Even Kelce comments as much when he rounds his kitchen island, limbs swinging and loose thanks to the red Solo cup in his hand. He takes one look at the tight smile on your lips and tilts his head to the side, fingers twitching upward to your chin as he turns your head to face him.

"What's going on in that pretty head of yours?" He asks, voice a little slurred, but thick with concern.

That was Kelce. Polarizingly good at getting to what someone was hiding underneath.

But appearances went a long way for him. And he was so agreeable, it made him easy to lie to. Especially when he and Topper had practically begged you to come to this party, his first one since graduating college. Everyone would be there, he'd said.

And he was right, they were.

"Nothing, Kels, it's just my stomach being a little funny." You tell him with a renewed sense of enthusiasm. You gaze at him warmly and quirk a brow, smiling genuinely. "How do you always know?"

"We've known each other our whole lives!" He barks in a laugh. "There's nothing I don't know about you."

You feel your heart squeeze again, like there's a too-tight belt around it. But you humour him with a sweet giggle and convinced nod, and it's all Kelce needs before he's walking away to mingle with another.

How shocked he'd be to know that there was something you were hiding.

You keep the water bottle you're holding close to your body as if it would fall straight out of your hands otherwise. When you watch the brunette seated next to Rafe on the couch squeeze his bicep again, you think it might just fall anyway.

Some things don't change.

The sun goes up and down. The moon makes a nightly appearance. Kelce never dresses for the weather. Topper claims everyone else is cheating when he loses.

You love Rafe Cameron.

"Fucking sucks, doesn't it?" A voice rings next to you.

You slowly turn your head from where you're sitting on the kitchen island to see a familiar face lounging on one of the high-chairs.

Topper, apparently, had always had an inkling.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Top." You grumble, casting your eyes away from the blonde protagonist of most of your dreams. Some of your nightmares, too.

You watch as Topper rolls his eyes without so much as glancing at you, a small scoff escaping his lips. He takes a hearty sip from his cup of brown liquid. Tracking his eye-line, you're unsurprised to find that he's staring wistfully at the very same blonde's sister.

Sarah Cameron is dancing in the corner of the room with John B., her boyfriend.

A Pogue at a Kook party... the thought still makes you skeptical.

Not because you didn't like John B., or more accurately, like him for Sarah. But because a few short years ago, all this seemed entirely impossible.

Nonetheless, Sarah was important to all of you.

And, like she'd said, Rafe listened to you better than he did anyone else.

When you explained to him how smitten his sister was with the boy, and considering how their relationship had endured far past those murmurings of 'young love' to, what was at this point, years together, he'd begun to understand that John B. wasn't going anywhere.

Much to Topper's devastation.

He promised he was over her, and he dated like it, too. But there were those moments where he had a few drinks in him and it made you think otherwise.

"Oh, okay. My fault." Topper replies sarcastically, downing what's left in his cup and finally turning away from the couple he's burning holes through. "I thought we were being honest."

"I am being honest."

He glances at you sharply.

"Uh huh. Hey, don't freak out, but, your nose is like, growing really long. Never seen anything like it before. It's like in that movie! What's it called, again? Puppet boy? No, that can't be right..."

"Very funny, Topper." You say dryly, but the hint of a smile on your lips sells you out and he chuckles next to you.

"I was thinking Pinocchio." He fake recalls, nudging your elbow.

This time, you laugh with your chest, and when you lift your head up to take it all in again, your eyes meet familiar blue ones from across Kelce's living room.

By now, you know how to mediate the warmth that blooms at the base of your spine and consumes you completely.

There's a comfortable silence between the two of you before Topper starts speaking again.

"You know he would do anything for you, right?"

You chew on your bottom lip, still holding eye contact with Rafe who gives you a crooked smile. The girl next to him leans in to whisper something in his ear. He keeps looking at you.

"Yeah, I know." You mumble half-heartedly. "I just feel like I might need to cut my losses at this point."

Topper frowns for a moment, then stands up from his seat.

"Well, you suit yourself." He pinches your cheek affectionately. "Because I, for one, want to crash and burn."

You snort at Topper's words and just as quickly watch him round the kitchen counter to grab another drink.

Preoccupied with the way he extends that gesture to you, fixing some gross concoction of different sodas for you to sip on, a shiver rolls over your skin when it feels like Rafe's smouldering eyes are still lighting a fire on your face.

Aron Andersen is a douche, but he means well.

At least, that's the excuse you aways placate Rafe with when Aron inevitably runs his mouth, the blonde's fists tightening nearly every time in conjunction.

Typically, you opt for the pacifist approach because blood is a bitch to clean, Rafe whines when you clean him up with saline, and frankly, Aron isn't worth it.

But tonight, he seems to enjoy testing your threshold for patience like no one else before him.

You suppose he's not entirely to blame. Kelce makes his drinks strong, and half of Figure 8 is sucking up all the oxygen in the room.

Maybe that was why Rafe had almost swung on John B. only a few minutes prior, claiming the younger man was feeding his sister lies about him. Perhaps it was just one of those nights.

Still, you sigh when Aron drunkenly makes his way over to your new spot in the backyard, and press your lips tight together when he shoves a beer in your direction.

"I'm not drinking tonight, Aron." You tell him plainly.

Aron haphazardly plops down into the lounge chair next to you with his glossy, red eyes narrowing.

He grudgingly pulls the beer back from you and takes a sip that pools around the sides of his mouth, then drains down his throat slow and loud.

"That sucks. You're more fun when you do." He scoffs.

Your mouth falls open as the words leave his lips, head spinning to meet his annoyed gaze. The faraway look in his eyes makes you gulp.

In no particular mood to be berated, you have half a mind to scoff back and get up to leave. But there's something about the way he speaks completely unadulterated that keeps your body locked in place.

Like you're dying to know what someone really thinks of you.

"Why not?" He presses, gesturing with his finger accusingly.

"I'm driving."

He continues to stare at you blankly.

"I'm driving." You reiterate, irritation seeping into your tone. "And drunk driving is illegal, Aron. You do know that, right?"

Unintentionally, your eyes flicker to a slightly rowdy and staggering Topper across the room. Aron zeroes in on that and rolls his eyes emphatically.

"Now it makes sense. You're taking your boyfriends home." He pitches the word in a scornful taunt, squinting over your shoulder. "Where is Cameron, anyway?"

You feel your heartbeat rage in your chest, tongue numb and mind in disarray.

"Don't be a dick, Aron. They're my friends." You bristle. But he seems unfazed, lazily quirking an eyebrow.

"Please don't tell me you're that stupid, Y/N. Friends?" He laughs obnoxiously. "I get you're in love with the guy, but you run around for them like a maid. You ask me, the least you should be getting out of it is a good fuck."

Your fingers twitch at your side as you shoot up from your seat, really and truly considering that pouring his beer over his head might be the best option.

Given that Aron routinely takes up two parking spots to park his Range Rover and cheats on his girlfriends, you think it might be a long time coming.

His words hurt for more than one reason. Of course, because he'd sooner die than recognize that you very much could maintain a healthy, platonic, and meaningful relationship with your friends of over a decade.

But also because, when it came to Rafe, he was goading you with a kind of intimacy you knew you'd never be able to access. At least not in the way you wanted.

When a firm hand grips Aron's shoulder strongly and whips his body around, you soon realize you don't have to resort to such a physical display.

While it was true that Rafe's face didn't make him look particularly kind, he'd only been seriously pissed off, to the point that his stomach felt like caving in on itself, a few times. Like in those months right after he'd graduated high school and felt like a big question mark. Every time his dad looked at him disapprovingly, it affirmed that sinking feeling in him, and he learned that he sometimes articulated his sadness in anger.

These days when he's mad, he mulls the feeling over a few times in the interest of scraping for another feeling underneath.

Now, though, all Rafe feels when he meets Aron's arrogance with an intensity of his own, is unbridled rage.

"What the fuck did you just say?"

Rafe speaks at a low register that makes your breath quicken. His movements are a little clumsy, blue eyes slightly glazed over, and his dirty blonde hair kisses his forehead that's speckled with sweat. Cheeks dusted red in that way that you love, more prominent when he's inebriated.

His fingers are still pressing harshly into Aron's shoulder, pressure concentrated and steady if the way he winces is any indication. For a second, his eyes flit over to you and the frown on your face, and they begin to soften. But then Aron is sputtering and stealing his attention and he hates him all over again for it.

"My bad, bro." Aron offers lamely, hands jutting upward in surrender. He attempts to step away, but Rafe keeps him locked there.

"Yeah, it's your fucking bad, bro." Rafe sneers.

He roughly shoves Aron backwards as he lets go of him and the man quickly scurries away knowing that if he sticks around, Rafe will probably force him through clenched teeth to apologize to you.

You feel your heart hammering in your chest for a different reason.

Your mind is trapped in a loop, repeating every word you said to Aron over and over again, wondering how incriminating they were, and debating how much exactly Rafe had heard.

And if he had, if he was coherent enough to either dismiss or believe the accusation that you loved him. No, not love, you shudder... in love. Aron had said, verbatim, that you were in love with him.

"I would've handled it." You mumble with your arms crossed over your chest.

Rafe sighs as he turns his body to face you, rubbing a hand over his jaw, now partially relieved of the tension it was holding. He chews on his bottom lip cautiously, like it'll help break the fall of the words bound to spill out of his mouth, a little too unrestrained in his drunk state for his liking.

"I know that." He nods slowly. "I just wanted to help to help you... handle it."

He stumbles a little as he moves toward you and you instinctively wrap an arm behind his torso, holding him against your body as a human splint.

"Plus, I kinda have a reputation going for me. No one's losing their shit if I fight a guy."

"Or two." You say pointedly, thinking about his almost altercation with John B. earlier in the night.

Rafe buries his head into your shoulder, groaning loudly into the bare skin as it heats up and vibrates.

"Fuck, not you, too."

He lifts his head up to continue, and you lug his body towards the living room where you spot Topper talking with Kelce and some others. Without speaking, Topper seems to understand what you're saying, nodding then pointing to himself followed by the stairs.

He'd driven you to Kelce's and you promised to stay sober and drive him back home. But now, it seemed like the plan was going to shift.

Topper would stay the night at Kelce's and take his car back in the morning. You would take Rafe's truck back to his place and walk the rest of the way. You were practically neighbours, anyway.

"If she wants to talk shit about me to her boyfriend, that's one thing. But him, talking shit about me, to her? What's he trying to do? Turn my own sister against me?"

"I get it, Rafe. I really do." You nod, an amused smile on your lips as you tug him out of the front door and towards his truck. "But you promised Sarah you'd be nice, remember?"

"I am being nice." He protests with his hands tapping at his chest. "I didn't even fucking touch him."

You scoff lightly as you strap Rafe in his passenger seat, noting the way his eyes begin to flutter shut. Humming softly, you poke a cold finger at his cheek and watch as they blink open again.

"I'm taking you home, okay?" You murmur gently.

"No!" He objects, large hand circling your wrist. He rubs his forehead with the other one, trying to remember something. "Got a meeting in the morning. Ward is gonna flip if he thinks I've been out all night fucking around."

You look at him uncertainly, waiting for the thing that you don’t want him to say, but know he will.

"Your house? Please?"

There was a time when sleepovers with Rafe were a common practice. Sometimes, after parties like this, with Kelce and Topper.

Other times when you convinced the boys to binge a new movie or TV series, usually ending with at least two of them falling asleep. Rafe made a habit of grumbling his critiques of the things he watched, but always stayed up with you.

For a while, when he hit an especially rough patch with his dad and spent more nights than he would've liked getting high out of his mind.

As much as he'd tried not to pull anybody else into it, he found himself seeking comfort in the warmth of your bed. It helped that you always received him with open arms, even when his early morning phone calls were disorienting and he cried silently into your shirt in the hours after.

Those nights felt so distant, and yet, like you could touch them if you reached out just far enough.

Rafe had girlfriends on and off, and sometimes that version of him felt like a stranger. You felt a strange pity for yourself when you realized that it might've been a good thing. That he was getting better and without falling back on a crutch, even if that crutch was you. Suddenly, him sleeping at your house felt weird and misplaced more than anything else.

"I don't know, Rafe...," you begin to trail off, but the blue desperation in his eyes makes you reconsider. He's still holding tenderly at your wrist. "Fine. But if you puke on my sheets, you're done. Do you hear me?"

Whether or not Rafe hears you is unclear, but you take the delirious smile forming on his lips as a non-verbal affirmation. He huffs out a long breath as if he can feel himself finally relaxing. His eyes start to close again, too, as you start his truck and drive the short way to your house.

"Don't even think about falling asleep on me, Cameron. I am not lugging you up the stairs."

"You're strong." He reasons smoothly, lids still shut as he smirks. "You were about to deck the shit out of Aron Andersen when I found you."

Getting Rafe up to your bedroom goes better than you'd imagined, now with a few years of experience under your belt.

You get him to sit down on your bed, and he fiddles with the items on your nightstand while you rummage through your armoire for an old pair of his pajamas. He complains when you throw him a pair of sweatpants and a sports t-shirt he used to wear in junior high, claiming that it'd be too tight over his arms and chest.

Plus, he'd added, it was far too hot to be wearing a shirt, anyway.

"I love these."

Changing into sweats of your own, you exit the bathroom to find Rafe sitting up in your bed, part of his bare torso obscured by your white sheets. His attention is fixed on a small group of rings on your bedside table, silver and gold hues reflecting under the dull rays of your lamp.

He slowly picks one up.

"Yeah, I'd hope so." You snort, tentatively slipping into bed next to him and painfully aware of the sorry excuse for space between you. "You got them all for me... kook."

Rafe cracks a sleepy smile, rolling his eyes playfully.

"You wouldn't tell me which one you wanted." He shrugs like it's the simplest thing in the world.

He sets the ring back on the table and switches off your lamp, blanketing the room in a stroke of darkness. Rafe lies on his back and you opt to turn to your side, facing the wall.

Looking at his face only a few inches away from yours, when he's about to sleep in your bed, feels like it will be too much.

"Asking for what you want is weird, Rafe. Nobody likes it."

You chew on your bottom lip in the dark.

"I do." He says in a scoff that turns into a yawn. "How else is anyone gonna know? People don't usually stop you and beg to find out."

You swallow roughly. That was true enough, they didn't.

But Rafe did. He always did. You revered him for it.

There's a long silence between you and all that echoes against the wood framing of your bed are the heavy and sometimes irregular sounds of your and Rafe's breathing.

Against your better judgement, you think he might've fallen asleep and almost turn around to check.

"Is it me?" He asks quietly, voice scratchy with exhaustion. "... what you want?"

You feel your shaky breath hitch in your throat.

"Because if it is... you don't have to ask."

His words linger in the air for as long as it takes your wildly beating hard to calm down.

By the time your body regains some feeling, the sound of Rafe's soft snores pierce the oddly crisp air clouding your room, and the choice to unpack what he said right now, or in the morning, is made for you.

A shiver runs down from the nape of your neck to the tips of yours toes.

Rafe is gone by the time you wake up.

The harsh but comforting sound of rain clangs against your roof, and you stretch your limbs to the thought of a cloudy and obscure summer day.

It's better this way, you think. The absence of Rafe's warmth next to you would feel worse if the sun was shining, teasing.

Your fingers play underneath your comforter to locate your phone. Scrolling through your notifications, you frown seeing that none of them are from Rafe.

In his defense, it was only about 9AM now, and he'd probably just had enough time to take a quick shower, get himself the smallest bit presentable, and still barely make it to his meeting with a client.

The used bathroom towel in your hamper and flannel pajama pants hastily thrown on his side of the bed are compelling indicators.

In his defense, he was drunk, and there was no telling if he remembered anything about last night.

Drowsy proclamations of desire and confession, included.

You wrestle with the idea of calling him and letting it all spill out.

Kissing him on your front lawn, in the rain, with dewy blades of grass nipping at your feet. Hands threading through his wet hair and tugging, hungrily, because you're starving and happy, and these are liberties you can afford in imagination.

But you settle on seeing him later tonight, in person. It's your dad's charity after all.

"I just wish you would have told me earlier." Your disappointed words hang in the air for a few moments as you play with the hem of your silky baby blue dress.

Your father had mentioned to you once before that his new business partner had a son about your age, newly graduated from UC Irvine.

He hadn't mentioned, though, that this mystery guy would be attending the charity tonight, and he'd offered you up as his own personal tour guide.

Your father hadn't used the word date explicitly, but that's what it felt like when you were handed an odd-smelling bouquet of flowers, standing awkwardly next to the brunette who you were apparently to keep the company of all night, though he might as well have been a stranger.

Daniel was nice enough.

He complimented your dress and your makeup, smiled and pulled out your chair before you sat down at your assigned table.

But it felt weird accepting praise and chivalry from him when your heart was busy beating erratically at the simple thought that your dress matched Rafe's eyes.

The venue is extravagant like it always is, what with it's elaborate crystal chandeliers, ice sculptures, and floral center pieces larger than your head.

At your table, you note your and Daniel's name cards labeling your seats. Next to them, are Topper, Kelce, and Rafe's. There's a sixth seat that has no label and you tilt your head to the side thoughtfully, considering that Topper or Kelce must be bringing a date.

"This place is incredible. Your dad is so impressive." Daniel says in awe from the seat next to you. His eyes trail around the room, wide in amazement, reflecting back all the vibrant lights in the brown of his pupils.

You smile weakly at him, tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear that always seems to take flight despite your attention to detail.

"Yeah, he's really something. Likes to orchestrate a big show. You should see him at the winter ball. Live doves, and everything."

Daniel nods, moving on to say something that starts to sound unintelligible when something else piques your interest. Someone else. Multiple someones, entering the banquet hall.

Craning your neck, you make out Topper and Rafe. And a girl.

No. Topper... and Rafe and a girl. She has her arm tucked around Rafe's as he escorts her in the direction of your table. He's wearing the grey tux you like, the one he wore to Rose's sister's wedding with the ornate thread detailing. His smile makes the two halves of your heart squeeze together.

"Hey, you okay? You're squeezing that wine glass pretty tight there."

Daniel likely means well, eyeing the way your fist clenches around the stem of the glass you've yet to take a sip from. You shoot him an embarrassed smile and release your straining fingers.

An emotional support water bottle sounds like it would be really nice right now.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little nervous... my dad always gives a speech at these things." You explain.

As the trio begins to approach, you realize it's Shelley Thompson gripping Rafe's arm, a sweet girl you knew from the Kook Academy.

Even now, she always waves when you run into her at the Island Club, and she has a swing on the golf course like no other.

She's a good match for Rafe. You hate to admit it, but it's true.

When Daniel speaks again, you can barely hear him.

"I'm sure you have nothing to worry about." Daniel chuckles. "I have a hard time imagining that your dad would be bad at anything..."

Topper, having heard the tail-end of your conversation, plunks himself down in the chair across from yours and rubs his forehead tiredly. You shudder at the way he smiles empathetically at you. Like there's something to be consoled about.

"Hangover?" You ask, shoving the shaky feeling down and shooting him a teasing smirk.

He groans loudly and buries his face in his hands.

"That's the understatement of the year. Feels like I'm getting my skull bashed in." He mutters through the skin, then he peels his head away and grimaces at the screechy music being played. If there was one thing your dad was bad it, it was decent music taste. Topper laughs heartily, shaking his head. "Then again, maybe I am."

The lightheartedness is interrupted for a moment as Rafe and Shelley pull up to the table, taking their seats accordingly. Rafe rakes his eyes over Daniel for a few seconds, but otherwise stays silent and it makes you frown. You look at him, desperately trying to uncover if he remembers any details from last night, but his expression is unreadable.

Shelley, on the other hand, grins at you enthusiastically and starts to chat with you about the time she interned at your dad's company.

You find yourself glancing at Rafe every so often, each time catching him staring blankly ahead or at his lap, and always fidgeting with his fingers.

"Who's this?" He asks suddenly, nodding his head at the man next to you.

"Oh." You swallow. "This is Daniel."

Finding that insufficient, Daniel takes it as an opportunity to formally introduce himself.

"That's me." Daniel waves sheepishly, gently squeezing your shoulder with his other hand. "Y/N's been showing me around. Well, her and her dad. I really love what Mr. Y/L/N's been doing with his company. He does some incredible work out here. It's not often that you see-,"

Topper snickers when he cuts him off.

"Maybe he should've been your date."

Daniel laughs it off, blushing slightly and concealing it in a short cough. But you kick Topper under the table in retaliation, ignoring the way he holds his shin and groans out a soft "Ow!".

After that, Shelley, Topper, and Daniel divulge into conversation, shifting from topic to topic and at some points, sharing boisterous laughs together.

Rafe keeps his lips pressed together and his words concise. While you fiddle with your utensils, you feel his eyes on you, igniting heat under your skin.

He stares at you hard, like he's waiting for you to say something. Begging, even, with the way his forehead tenses and his brow stays quirked.

But you didn't know what to say.

Or maybe you didn't know how to say it. Especially not here. Especially not when he had a date.

Rafe rolls his eyes and chews on the inside of his cheek, standing from the table abruptly, the movement making the cutlery tremble.

"Hey, I have an idea." He says while tugging on Shelley's hand. "Let's dance."

You watch as Shelley squeals with excitement, jumping from her seat to follow Rafe towards the center of the large room where the music is playing.

"Couldn't pay me to get closer to that band." Topper mumbles offhandedly. You're sure he's trying to make it sting less, but some pains don't have a perfect antidote.

Daniel sends you a look, silently asking if you want to join them.

"Maybe later." You reply quietly.

Watching Rafe wrap his arm around Shelley's waist, you feel your heart sink slowly into your stomach.

In the middle of Daniel's rambling and Topper's occasional acknowledging hums, you rise from your seat and stumble into the courtyard for some fresh air.

Surely, your heart would keep sinking if you saw any more, and your heels were too tight to fit anything else.

The courtyard is a beautiful mix of greenery, fairy lights, and concrete statues, but it does little to ease the ache in your chest. You sit on a stone bench and try to control your breathing with your head between your knees.

Though it's turbulent and shallow at best.

"What's wrong?"

You know it's Rafe without looking up. Sighing into the palms of your hand, you slide them down from your face and lift your head up. Surely, your makeup is smudged, and the thought makes you more miserable.

"Nothing." You say more sharply than you intended. "Nothing's wrong. Just go away, Rafe."

He looks at you completely scandalized.

"Are you... mad at me?"

You let out a deep breathe, averting your gaze to the ground as you collect yourself. "No, I'm not mad. Why would I be mad?"

Rafe scoffs, entirely unconvinced. He rakes a hand through his hair in frustration.

"Well, fuck, if this is 'not mad', then I don't want to see what mad looks like."

"Can you just drop it? Please, Rafe? Drop it?" You beg, sniffling slightly as you stand. You hadn't noticed when your cheeks started to get wet. Likely too much in denial.

Despite the way it's honoured you in the past, crying was offering no release at this point. It's not like any of this was Rafe's fault. Even if he had gotten your hopes up last night, he wasn't obligated to act on drunken pillow talk. Maybe he hadn't meant it in the first place and was only trying to make you feel better.

"You won't talk to me." He says sadly.

You bite down on every explanation you want to give him. Chest pain heavy and unrelenting.

"Just... go back to Shelley, Rafe. She's probably waiting for you."

Rafe looks puzzled when the words fall weakly out of your mouth.

Then, he nods, like something finally clicks for him. He meets your eyes with fervor as he presses his lips together.

"So, this is about Shelley?" He asks.

Your head hangs and silence intensifies between you. It speaks for itself.

"The same Shelley that's been fucking Kelce on and off for the past two years?"

He watches your mouth fall open and eyebrows furrow, continuing as you stare at him.

"Kelce promised to take her out on a real date, but then he got caught up at work... asked me to keep Shelley company until he showed up. We didn't come here together, together, Y/N. I thought you knew that."

Your mind buzzes as he speaks, bottom lip wedged under your teeth.

So, he wasn't here with Shelley. And he probably did remember both what he heard and said last night if he could recognize that you were jealous.

Jealous. It makes you squeeze your eyes shut. The feeling was always two-fold. A person would feel jealous, then humiliated that they had. You don't know which one is worse.

You peak an eye open, chewing through your words. "Why couldn't Topper do it?"

"Have you met Topper?"

That was a good point.

Still reeling from the new information, you look down at your lap pensively.

"But you did." Rafe begins after a few beats of silence. When you frown in confusion, he clarifies. "... come here with someone."

You crane your neck up to look at him. There's something you can't place in his eyes, but it's cloudy and all-consuming. His hair is a mess from the way he's been ruffling through it, and his cheeks are flushed and tight.

"What, Daniel? Are you kidding me? I only brought him because my dad ask-," you begin to explain, but Rafe cuts you off.

"I don’t care why he thinks he can touch you. I just want him to stop.”

Despite the small gust of wind that blows past you both, you feel a warmth at the base of your neck... in the palms of your hands. Maybe it was the beams of light overhead, illuminating your bodies amidst the greenery.

Or, maybe it was just Rafe's words.

The intensity of his gaze. The way he steps towards you as he speaks them, warm hand eventually reaching out to graze over your cheek in a way that makes you gasp in a mixture of shock and excitement.

For a moment, you think about yourself and the many soul-crushing nights spent watching Rafe talk to and touch and kiss other people, the overlapping visuals making you queasy.

"I know the feeling." You say quietly, hot breath fanning over his face.

Rafe frowns a little, soaking up the meaning of your words. He nudges his face closer to yours, until your noses are touching and his lips just barely graze over the pair he desperately wants to taste. He draws back suddenly, suspending all the air in your lungs.

He eyes you cautiously, challenging silently as he licks his lips.

"Not gonna do anything unless you ask."

You nearly cry out in response. "Rafe, please. I... I want you." Ignoring the way your desperation makes your skin feel tingly and your head spin, you shut your eyes tightly, realizing that only really skimmed the surface. You try again, gulping. "I've always wanted you."

"Fuck." He breathes out, eyes fluttering shut. "Never stop saying that."

Stifling the sound of another whine from your lips, Rafe kisses you feverishly.

He moves his soft lips in tandem with yours, swallowing each of your breathy moans. One of his hands traces over the swell of your jaw while the other stretches tenderly around your throat. "Know what I wanted to do when I saw you sitting there next to him?"

You nearly scream in protest when Rafe pulls his lips off yours, but fall silent when he trails kisses down from your jaw to your neck and collarbones, sloppily sucking the skin then laving his tongue over the afflicted areas. Unsatisfied until your pushing his head away from the sensitivity.

"Wanted to knock his fucking teeth out." He murmurs with his head buried in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent and leaving searing kisses. "But I don't do that shit anymore. So I'll ruin his night a different way."

Rafe moves your body with his until the backs of your knees hit the concrete bench. Your mouth falls open as he sits you down on it, kneeling in front of you. He presses a ticklish kiss to your knee and his bright blue eyes peer up at you through his lashes. When you nod, he parts your thighs and pulls your panties down in a single unbroken movement, committing every second to memory.

He stares longer than he should, groaning at the way your wetness collects on his finger when he traces a finger over your slit, spreading you apart.

"Can't believe," he moans into your mound, running the flat of his tongue over your center again and again. "... you kept me from this pussy for so long."

You throw your head back at the sensation, finding nothing but air and Rafe to support you as pulls you closer to his mouth.

"That," you say in a broken moan at the feeling of Rafe's tongue inside you. "That's your fault, remember? I was always here — shit! Waiting for you.”

Rafe hums against your pussy at that, neither agreeing or disagreeing. His nose nudges your clit as he tastes you greedily. You tug at his hair to dissipate some of the energy building inside your core, but it only makes Rafe work harder.

"Didn't think I deserved you." He admits, pink lips mesmerizing and wet with your slick and his spit. Rafe takes your clit into his mouth and sucks obscenely, the slurping sound sending a flash of heat through you. "Doesn't matter now. I'm good at making up for lost time..."

Your thighs clamp around Rafe's head as he fucks you with his tongue. It's only now, as gasps and high-pitched sounds fall wantonly from your lips that you come to the reality that you're letting Rafe eat you out in the courtyard, and anybody from the party could come here and find you. Still, you moan less controlled than you would have hoped when he suckles at your clit again, drinking at your sopping pussy.

"Hey, have some common decency, huh? There's some very nice people in there trying to enjoy a party."

Rafe smirks when you pull at his hair even harder, mostly at the thought that you think it could be reprimanding when he likes it so much. His teasing does more to turn you on than you'd care to admit and he can tell with the way you gush around him.

"One of em's your date." He adds, laughing slightly as he curls his tongue inside you. Entranced at the way it makes you whimper and writhe like putty under him. He starts rubbing your clit with his thumb at the same time, chasing the crest of your orgasm. "C'mon, baby. Give it to me. Come all over my tongue."

Your release makes your back rise off of the slab of cement you're seated on, thighs slotted over Rafe's shoulders as he licks you through your climax.

The pleasure is insurmountable, your mouth falling open and your eyes screwing shut as that familiar feeling completely overwhelms your senses, the burn of your elbows against the cement keeping you anchored to the ground.

Rafe smiles when you pull him by the belt of his dress pants to capture his mouth in a long and sweet kiss. It helps clean up the residual wetness.

By the time Kelce makes it your father's charity event, he sighs tiredly into the crown of Shelley's head, pressing a wet kiss there in greeting. On his way in, he got trapped in a conversation with your father and some guy he'd never seen before named Daniel who was more inclined to kiss your dad's ass than he was to breathe.

Finally taking his seat next to a very drunk Topper, he squints his eyes at the sight before him. You and Rafe, unable to keep your hands off each other, giggling at nothing in particular. And when not giggling, kissing.

"Are you seeing this shit?" Kelce asks Topper, gesturing towards his two closest friends shoving their tongues down each other's throats. Shamelessly, at that.

"Dude." Topper groans, sighing like this was no surprise to him. "Where the fuck have you been?"

a/n: thank you for reading! comments/reblogs appreciated!!

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks x reader #rafe x reader #i love writing completely ridiculous and unhinged side characters #topper too i always make him so weird LMAO #this is a lil rough around the edges but !! whatevrrr

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azsazz · 2 months

Text

Midnight Muse (Part 19)

Azriel x Reader [Art School AU]

Summary: You and your best friend Feyre have just moved into a new apartment for your sophomore year of college at art school. What you didn't know when you signed the lease is that you'd be living next to three rowdy boys.

Warnings: SMUT

Word Count: 5,592

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14] [Part 15] [Part 16] [Part 17] [Part 18] [Masterlist]

Notes: The moment we've all been waiting for 😏 (took me like four days to write this)....Happy Valentine's Day 💙

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The kiss is searing.

It’s a desperate attempt to taste each other, devour each other as your lips part beneath Azriel’s without thought. Your teeth clack and the sound is loud in the silence of the gallery, almost startlingly so, but his tongue is brushing across yours in a tentative swipe before you’re meeting him halfway, kissing him even more urgently as the taste of him explodes on your tongue.

He tastes fresh and spicy. There’s a hint of the champagne he’s been drinking, and just like the fizziness of it, the feeling bubbles throughout your body pleasurably. You press yourself closer. His eyelashes are so long that you swear you can feel them fluttering against your skin. The feeling goes straight to your cunt.

Your heart pounds in your chest, and you lose yourself into him entirely.

A new beginning indeed.

“Wait,” Azriel pants between kisses. His words tell you that he wants to pause this kiss that is more dizzying than any of the champagne you’ve had tonight, but the way his hands caress your face, keeping you close, the way that he continues to press his mouth against yours again and again tells you that he doesn’t want this to end either. “Princess, wait.”

Ice slips through your veins as you rock back from him a little. Is he already regretting this? I mean, you did just throw yourself at him like some simpering girl, but his reassuring grip slides down your arms, holding you close. Tingles skitter in wake of his touch, but you can’t help the part of you that’s suddenly terrified of what he’s going to say.

Azriel must see it on your face too, the worry, because his brows furrow slightly like he doesn’t understand your quick reaction to pull away. He’s stepping into you, plastering himself against your front. You can feel his cock, hard with attention against your stomach. You relax slightly as the warmth from your cheeks drips down to collect at the apex of your thighs.

“You’re drunk,” Azriel breathes, and the pinch of his brows becomes more tortured when you slide your hands up his chest, wrapping them around his neck. Those golden eyes search yours frantically, but you don’t show him anything but the ache, the need for him you have and have been locking deep inside of your soul. “I need you to be sober when I fuck you for the first time, princess.”

“I’m fine,” you whine, clinging to him as tightly as he is to you. You roll your hips a little to emphasize what you want from him and Azriel makes a choked noise in response. “I’m not drunk enough to where I’d forget any of this, Azriel.”

And fuck, the way you say his name, no longer filled with hatred or annoyance. It’s a heady whine that makes his cock harder than stone. He thinks he might crumble under your touch like a delicate piece of his charcoal. He wants to be wrapped all around you, embedded into your skin like the chalky substance he favors. He wants to ink you with his touch, with his cum—

He shakes his head, erasing those thoughts from his mind. If he continues down that path he might just rip off your dress right now and—“Fuck,” he squeezes his eyes shut as hard as he can for a moment, leaning his forehead against yours. “I want to fuck you in a bed, not on some hard floor.”

It’s an excuse and you both know it. He could lie you down right now and fuck you so hard that your tailbone bruises from the stone floors, and you’d probably thank him.

“Just put a canvas down,” you suggest, “Let’s make some art.” He grunts like you’ve just shot him, bucking his hips against you. You can feel how big he is and you want to unleash his cock from his pants, run your fingers across the hardness of it, taste him on your tongue—

“Easy,” he warns playfully, but there’s a clear strain to his voice that tells you that he wants to keep going. Sadly, Azriel pulls your hands from his belt. You hadn’t noticed that your fingers had moved to his waist on their own volition.

“Fuck,” you curse, wincing. “Sorry.”

“Say fuck again,” he says, distracted. The honey of his eyes is dripping with lust, pupils blown wide as they drink you in. The flush to your cheeks, the way you’re biting your tongue and batting your eyelashes up at him like you’re going to make him beg for it. He might. Azriel brushes his thumb across your lip, watching the way your mouth forms the words again. “Filthy, princess,” he breathes against your mouth. “Everytime you called me prick or asshole or whatever creative curses you could come up with, you don’t know how much I wanted to come taste them off of your lips, fuck them right out of you.”

He wants to know if you’ll make the same noises that you did on the other side of that wall that day.

You can’t help but to rub yourself against him. Your sex is throbbing with need. You moan again and Azriel sucks harshly on your neck. “Shit,” you whine. His hands are everywhere, winding around your body to hold you even closer. “Need your cock, Az,” you pant, and he’s kissing you forcefully, the both of you stumbling back a few steps.

“You’ll get it, princess,” he mumbles, hands dragging hot lines down your spine to squeeze a handful of your ass. You’re about to beg him again, because your failed attempts at convincing him to fuck you right here on the floor are not working, but the lights cut out, sending the entire gallery into a pitch of darkness.

Azriel groans and you can’t help the laugh that escapes.

“What the hell?” You question through your giggling, turning as you throw a look over your shoulder as if making sure that the entire room has succumbed to the same darkness. You don’t miss the way Azriel’s grip tightens on you as you move, and the action weakens your knees.

“Thesan told me this would happen at midnight,” Azriel supplies, digging into the pocket of his trousers for his phone.

You feign a gasp, “My very own Cinderella moment! I’ve always wanted one!”

The smirk in Azriel’s tone is clear when he answers. “Except, unlike Cinderella, you’ll be getting dick tonight.”

You swat at him, but in the dark you miss. He chuckles, deep and throaty, as if the current of your swing ruffled the fabric of his shirt. You clench your thighs. Being on this side of Azriel’s good mood is spectacular, but there is no way he can keep torturing you like this.

“I think it really sets the mood; don’t you think?” You purr, fingers fumbling for the top button of his shirt.

“Oh, no you don’t,” he grouses, catching your hands and guiding you through the dark gallery instead. The flashlight on his phone leads the way. Azriel keeps your hand tucked tightly in his own as you wobble back into your heels with a soft hiss, your aching feet already protesting again. “When I fuck you, I need to see all of those pretty faces you’re going to make for me,” Azriel all but growls.

You stumble, blaming it on your shoes and Azriel steadies you.

He swipes up the glasses from the floor and you pick up the nearly empty champagne bottle, where you return them all to the kitchenette Thesan built in the back, dumping them into the sink.

When you scold Azriel for not washing the glasses, he arches a brow, illuminated by the glaring light coming from his phone. “Oh, now you want to stay longer and help clean up?” He questions and you roll your eyes in response. “Is this my punishment for wanting to take you home and fuck you in a nice, comfy bed? C’mon, princess, you know just how soft it is, don’t you?”

You shiver at his words. That, for once, you’re both completely on the same page about something.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The ride back to the apartment building is both the longest ride you’ve ever endured, and the most tension-filled.

Azriel had called a cab to take the both of you home, and spent the time waiting by pressing you up against the back door of the building and kissing the life out of you.

It’s difficult to focus on anything other than his hand in yours, the soft and rigid texture of his hand. The way that his thumb smoothes gentle circles across your own hand where they lie intertwined in your lap. The warmth of his skin is both settling and forming a rock in your stomach as you think about what he’s endured to grace these scars upon his skin. That his step-brothers had been so cruel to take a flame to the artist's hands.

You try to swallow past the lump in your throat, breathing shallowly so you don’t make yourself sick with the thoughts searing through your mind.

The driver doesn’t try to make conversation and you’re thankful for that, but the silence is consuming, aiding in your negative thoughts.

As if sensing the turn of your thoughts, Azriel squeezes your hand, and gives you a gentle smile. It’s a crooked one, one corner of his mouth tilted higher than the other, but it’s easily the most beautiful smile you’ve seen. It makes him look younger, less like he’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. It makes you wish you had your sketchpad with you. Him looking at you like this makes you feel like there’s a garden growing in your stomach, a field of blooming flowers.

You frown when Azriel’s fingers untangle from yours but then he’s sliding that large palm scoots slowly up your thigh. You glare, glancing into the front of the car at the driver, who is paying no attention to whatever is going on in his backseat, which is perfect because Azriel’s hand is creeping higher, almost cupping your—

You splutter a little and the driver glances at you in the mirror.

“You okay?” Azriel asks, but you can hear the mirth in his voice, see the heat in his eyes, flashing in the streetlights.

You’re not all that sure that you like this new Azriel.

“Peachy,” you offer, using both of your hands to clamp down on his wrist to keep him from coming any closer to your already weeping cunt. The thin fabric of your dress does little to separate the warmth of his hand from your skin. “Just peachy.”

Azriel finds challenge in your response, and you’re no match for his strength as he softly brushes his fingers across the fabric covering your intimates. You exhale harshly and can feel the car moving faster as the driver presses harder on the gas.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

You skip going into your apartment, trailing after Azriel with your hand tucked into his.

Your heart is beating wildly, like it’s trying to escape your chest. The closer you get to his door the more confident in your decision you are. You want him, want his hands all over your body, his eyes and hands on your skin and his cock plunged deeply into your cunt.

The elevator had been the only option to get upstairs because of your tired feet, but Azriel had thoroughly distracted your nervousness of getting back in the blasted metal trap by pinning you up against the door and slotting his lips over yours.

The both of you stumbled out onto your floor in a fit of laughter, helped along by the slight warmth that lingers from the champagne. Now, you’re mostly just drunk off of Azriel, his hands, the strain in his pants that’s calling your name, that gleam in his eye that you haven’t quite caught before…

“I’m going to get you some water,” he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your mouth. You had both creeped quietly into the dark apartment, holding your breath and listening for any movement. For college students, the weekend night is still young, and his roommates must be out because not a grunt of a wank or a moan from Feyre sounds. You follow Azriel’s mouth because you can’t get enough of the taste of him. His hands settle on your hips, eyes gleaming with amusement. “And after you drink it, if you still want to—”

“Yes, Azriel,” you cut him off, earnest. “My answer isn’t going to change.”

He studies you, golden eyes hungry with desire, before he nods, slipping from the room, the shadows of the dark living room swallowing him whole.

You bite back the smile threatening to tear your face into two at the sight of his tight ass in his black trousers. You can’t wait to rip them off and see what’s under them.

Exhaling, you spin on your heel, kicking out of your shoes. Your feet sigh with relief as they fall flat against the hardwood floors, and you wiggle your toes, admiring his room. It feels different, somehow, than when it did when you woke up here hungover as fuck.

The light from the lamp beside the bed is soft, the pile of books stacked in pristine order as opposed to the ready-to-tip-over pile you remember. It’s clean, no piles of clothes on the floor like in Cassian’s room, no pair of panties thrown over the desk chair.

Azriel’s desk is the only thing you could consider messy, but even then, it’s cleaner that what your art stations look like when you’re working on a project. There’s a jar filled with chunks of charcoal, a cloth drenched black hanging over its side. There are loose sheets of paper and thick graphite pencils for sketching, and a luster of sketchbooks stacked in a neat pile, the one on top open.

You lean closer, squinting against the shadows to get a better look, and your breath hitches in your throat.

Drawing upon drawing, and they’re all of you. He’s made you look so beautiful that you didn’t even know you looked like this. Even the ones that he’s clearly drawn in a rush, before the memory faded, are impeccable.

It’s you in the elevator, head buried in your sketchbook, hat pulled low over your eyes. It’s you when Feyre and Rhysand forced everyone to have lunch together, tossing the grape at Cassian. It’s you, swallowing up at him the first day that you met. You sitting on the back of his motorcycle, rain plastered to your head, you—

You can’t help but to turn the page, all but collapsing into the desk chair. Some of the pages are filled with larger drawings, spreading across the spine of the book. When you’d eaten dinner with him, the shock on your face when you learned that he could cook. The following pages are a double-spread from when you were staring down at him when he was changing the oil on his motorcycle.

A hysterical laugh bubbles in your throat. You hadn’t realized that Azriel had been paying as much attention to you as you were with him. The drawings of yours that you dropped all over the floor of his hands are a tribute to that.

“What are you doing?” Azriel’s voice startles you. You stand from the chair and face him, but you don’t move any closer than that. He’s standing in the doorway, a glass of water in his hand. He doesn’t move closer, and when his eyes flick from the sketchbook to you , your chest hurts at the guarded look he wears.

“That sketchbook is filled with drawings of me,” you point at the sketchbook in question, even though he was just looking at it. In some speck of the world it might seem creepy, this sketchbook filled with drawings of you, but to you, it’s no different than children scribbling names of their cushes across notebooks. It’s no different than all of the drawings you have of him.

You watch Azriel’s throat work as he swallows. Like he’s considering not answering you at all.

After a few, long seconds in silence, he breathes out a quiet, “Yes.”

“Why?” you ask, twisting your fingers together.

Azriel tracks the movement. Because you consume every waking moment of my life sounds too desperate. Because you chase my demons away sounds even crazier.

“Because I really like you.” It’s his first time admitting it, your first time hearing it from him. All of the times Feyre has tried to ask you about Azriel had been deny, deny, deny, because of this very moment right now. You hadn’t wanted to think about him like that, even when your mind was desperate to. You didn’t want to actually like Azriel, not after what he had done, but you find yourself admitting that you like him a hell of a lot more than you ever thought you could.

Bunching up the bottom of your dress, you curl your fingers around it as you take a step closer. He’s frozen in the doorway, watching you slowly drag the fabric up your body and over your head. You’d forgone a bra, and your nipples tighten in the chill of the room, underneath that piercing gaze of his.

In the few steps it takes you to cross the room to him, your dress is on the floor and he can’t stop looking at your body, drinking you in like an artist does his muse.

“I really like you too, Azriel,” you respond softly. This is the most intimate thing you’ve ever done, bare yourself to him while he’s still fully clothed, being as vulnerable as he’d been with you back at the gallery. The ball is in his court, and the bulge in his pants has you hopeful.

Azriel curses. “Fuck, princess. You’re making my hands shake.”

Your solution is simple, taking the glass from him and reaching over to set it on the dresser. You can feel the way his eyes rove your body as you move, hot like a knife.

Turning back to him, you slowly, gently take his hands in yours. They’re trembling a little, and it makes you ache.

He’s frozen to the spot as he watches you lift one of his palms to your lips, kissing it sweetly. It’s followed by the other, and then you’re dragging his hands down your skin and over your breasts, squeezing his hands around them, nipples tight with the pleasure of his skin against them.

Azriel’s breath hitches and your head nearly rolls back on your neck when his fingers twitch, fighting the urge to squeeze harder. You peer up at him. He’s so godsdamned warm, eyes dark and drinking you in like a delight. You want to feel his hands everywhere. Right this second.

“They’re not shaking right now, Azriel.”

As quick as lightning, Azriel strikes, lunging forward and scooping you off of your feet, kicking the door shut behind him.

You arch into his touch, the tightness of your sensitive nipples grazing across the soft fabric of his shirt. You moan into his mouth at the feeling and he swallows that sound desperately.

His room is small, and in two great strides he’s placing you on his bed and crawling up after you like a wolf getting its first taste of a kill.

You scoot backwards until you can’t anymore, and Azriel follows you like a worshiper to his God, like a starving artist to their muse.

His hands trail your calves to your thighs where he parts them, your clothed cunt on full display. The fabric is wet and you shiver at the cold of his room as it fights against your hot core, shivering harder when Azriel’s hot gaze drags down your body like a brush dipped in paint.

Like this, kneeling between your legs, he’s the one that looks Godlike. Strands of his black hair fall across his glowing eyes, and his tongue pokes out to wet his lips.

“My Gods, princess. Where do I even start with you?” he asks, his voice filled with awe.

You know that his question is rhetoric, but you can’t help the whine on an answer that slips from your lips.

“Anywhere you want.”

As if he can’t stand it a moment longer, Azriel’s hips find yours. His cock is heavy with need where it’s straining against the fabric of his trousers, and you keen as he grinds into you, fingers finding the buttons of his shirt as he watches you with hungry eyes.

Splayed out like this, on his bed, you look impeccable. A feast and he is a starving man. Biting your lip as he rubs himself against your cunt. The part to your lips, glistening in the lamplight. He drinks you in, memorizing each and every single ounce of you before your fingers find the sliver of exposed skin that grows with each button he takes off.

He’s smooth, warm, and the ridges of his muscles feel like a puzzle beneath your fingers. You know exactly where he fits, right up against your body.

Azriel’s shirt falls to the side and as if he knows the intended path of your thoughts, he’s leaning over you, caging you between his elbows as he stares deeply into your eyes. You can’t help but watch in response, suddenly so sure that you’ve spent too long arguing with him. All this time, you could’ve been doing this.

It looks like Azriel is realizing the same, as he dips down to kiss you sweetly.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs against your mouth again, following the words with another whisper of a kiss.

“I’ve already forgiven you,” you say, delirious from the feeling of his tongue against your neck. Azriel sucks lightly and your breath hitches, thighs quivering to wrap around his taut waist. “But if you get inside of me right now, I’ll forgive you again.”

Azriel lifts his head. With the way that his dark hair falls into his gold eyes, paired with the slight smirk on his face, it sends your heart into a rapid flutter. He’s utterly breathtaking, and something blooms deeply inside of you.

The things you’ve learned about him, from him, this man who hasn’t let his hardships keep him from doing what he loves.

“Don’t think you’re getting off that easy, princess,” Azriel says, and you almost whine when he pulls away from you, but he’s kissing his way down your body, sucking a pert nipple into his mouth and rolling his tongue around it while his other hand massages your free breast. Your fingers find his shoulders and you dig your nails in, hissing as he rolls your nipple between his teeth. Gods, you need his cock, right now. “I have to taste your sweet little pussy first.”

“Please,” you beg as his hands trail down your sides, snapping the waistband of your panties against your hips in a tease.

“Might have to keep you here all night. So I can study your body with my tongue,” he says, leaning down to lick a stripe up the inside of your thigh. “My hands,” Azriel continues, and the words are accentuated with a brush of his knuckle down the center of your core. The thin fabric of your panties does nothing to ease the feeling of his touch. You keen deeply, and somewhere in the haze of the storm that is Azriel that accompanies his every touch, you don’t realize he’s slipped from his pants and boxers, his thick, full length on display. “And my cock,” he finishes, rubbing himself against your soaked panties.

“Az,” you mewl desperately, but you don’t have to wait any longer because he’s already peeling your panties down your legs and settling himself there, admiring the way your pretty cunt flutters and glistens with need.

Your fingers are already fisting the sheets and it’s an effort to peer down at him, watching in anticipation as he finally, finally, lowers his head to your weeping cunt.

Fucking Gods, is Azriel wicked with his tongue, sweeping a deep stroke through your slit. He groans and the sound of it reverberates against your clit and it’s all too much already. You figure he was going to be good with his hands, being an artist, but this…the gentle to harsh touches of his tongue against your clit is otherworldly.

You gasp as he fucks into you, keeping you from scooting up the bed where your feet are planted in the sheets with his hands on your hips, holding you to his face. He’s a man undone, delirious on your taste alone. He can’t wait until his cock gets to feel this.

Azriel works his tongue, fucking into you with such hunger. He sucks greedily at your clit and you arch off of the bed. One of his palms slides across your hips, pressing you back down. He doesn’t care that you’re squeezing his head with your thighs, only cares about the sounds that he’s ripping from your mouth.

They sound even better on this side of the wall.

A finger replaces his tongue and you’re full on squirming now, fingers buried deeply into his hair as you guide his head, the flick of his tongue too good that any words besides “yes,” eddy from your mind. Azriel’s knuckle brushes the bundle of nerves inside of you and you’re seeing white, cunt clenching around his finger, grinding your pussy into the feverish flicking of his tongue as you ride out the best orgasm of your life.

You cunt aches, and Azriel’s still going, so you use your grip on his hair to jostle him a little, whimpering to get his attention.

It takes a lot more strength for Azriel to part from your cunt than he thought. Your sweetness is still on his tongue, coating his mouth when he looks up at you, dazed, as if he’s the one that’s just come from a taste of you. But no, he’s still painfully hard, trying not to rut his hips into the bed while you squirmed for him.

He wants you to do all that squirming on his cock instead.

“You alright up there, princess?” Azriel teases, crawling his way up your body once more. Following the guidance of the hand in his hair, he slants his mouth over yours, sharing the taste of you in a lazy kiss.

You hum languidly, eyes shut in bliss from the orgasm. You peek your eyes open to peer up at Azriel, who’s admiring you with a soft curve to his mouth. He looks so handsome when he smiles that it has you wrapping your legs around his hips, the both of you groaning as his cock slides through your slick folds, teasing.

“Condom,” you gasp, canting your hips to slide your wet and fully interested cunt across his length. He’s so big, and you’d be going down on him if it weren’t for the way that you desperately need to feel him inside of you, right this fucking instant.

Azriel reaches over you, pulling open the drawer of the small table next to you. He roots around for a moment and then he’s pressing back on his haunches, tearing open the condom wrapper and pulling it out.

“Let me,” you offer, and his eyes turn a shade darker when he passes it over.

Your mouth waters at the feeling of his cock in your hand, hot and heavy, silky like heaven. You can feel your slick around the length from where he’d nearly driven you to insanity with that teasing grind against your cunt, and in retaliation, you give his cock a tug, reveling in the low growl that comes from the back of his throat.

“Princess,” he threatens, and your thighs jolt, trying to shut around your screaming clit at the sound.

You don’t wait for Azriel to take charge. As soon as you roll the condom on you’re brushing the head of his cock against your cunt again, slicking him and lining him up with your entrance, looking up at him with those big, innocent eyes.

“Fuck me, Az. I can’t wait another minute.”

His lips meet yours in a bruising kiss and he slowly presses his cock into you.

“Fucking fuck, princess. You’re so tight for me.” His words are shaky against your mouth, as if he’s struggling to hold himself back from pressing into you all the way, from cumming with a singular touch.

You mewl his name on the breath that’s forced from your lungs with each inch he plunges into you. Gods, he looked big, felt bigger in your hand, and as he works his cock into your heat, you’re not too sure he’s going to fit all the way.

But the words he’s whispering into your ear, onto your skin have you melting. The finger he slips between your bodies to play with your clit is distracting enough to where you’re focused on the pleasure he’s pulling from you.

And then his cock hits that spot, nestles up against it when your hips meet, and you cry out in joy. “Right there, Azriel. You feel so good.” Your fingers dig into the long lines of muscle down his back, trying to hold him closer, as if you aren’t already touching in every way possible.

“Do you know how many times I’ve thought about this moment?” he asks you, accentuating his words with a slow roll of his hips that makes you both groan, your nails biting into his skin like the needle from his tattoo gun. It drags a shiver up his spine as a fleeting thought zips through his mind, one of you, naked and sitting on his cock, giving him another tattoo. He’ll teach you how to hold the tattoo gun and let you have free rein with it, because anything that you can give him, he wants. Azriel squeezes his eyes shut, trying not to burst at the visual. If anything, he can’t wait to coat your virgin skin in his ink. There is so much canvas for him to work with, all smooth and perfect, waiting for some artwork. “When you were touching yourself on that side of the wall,” he pants, pulling out and fucking back into you slowly. The drag of your walls so tight around his cock is perfect. He won’t last long.

You gasp as he bottoms out again, throwing your head back into the pillows. “You heard that?”

His hum is strained, and he can’t help but to kiss you. “You’ll have to show me how you touched yourself some day, princess.”

You moan loudly at the thought of that, gripping him tighter. Azriel sitting in his chair, charcoal poised above his sketchpad as he watches you with dark eyes, while you touch yourself to the thought of him. Just how he’s touching you now, tight, little circles around your clit.

“I heard you with that guy,” Azriel continues, and his thrusts become harsher, deeper. “With that fucker from the coffee house. I bet you faked it with him, all that laughing and sighing. I’m going to find out if those noises were real or not.” You shiver at his words, but Azriel couldn’t be further from wrong.

“We didn’t fuck,” you pant, bucking your hips up to meet his. Azriel makes a choked sound, canting his hips to hear you keen wildly at the change of angle. And then, because you know it will make him come undone, you say, “All of this is just for you, Az.”

Azriel nearly cums at those words alone. The coiling in his bones is so hot that he readjusts for better leverage, and fucks into you with abandon. Gods, he loves the way that you’re clinging to him, the way your cunt squeezes his cock tightly, like you never want to let him go.

He’s been a fucking fool all of this time. A Godsdamn fucking fool. He could’ve had you like this, milking his cock dry, making these sounds that threaten to tear the walls down. He could’ve had his hands all over you, because you seem to like the way that he’s touching you, even with how fucked up they are.

“I’m going to memorize everything about this perfect body of yours, princess,” Azriel groans, thrusting deeply. He can tell you’re on the verge of your own orgasm, with the way your cunt squeezes him, the way those gorgeous eyes roll into the back of your head and your mouth parts, letting out those filthy noises he revels in. “We’ve got all night. Let me see you cum again, princess. Cum all over my cock. Oh, fuck, princess. That’s it.”

Your orgasm rocks through you like a tidal wave, stealing your breath away. You hold onto Azriel like he’s your lifeline, trembling in the aftershocks. The white-hot pleasure coursing through your veins is incredible, and you wrench your eyes open at the sound of Azriel’s shaky warning.

Azriel follows you into serendipity. He wishes he were painting your body in white strokes. It’s always been far from his favorite color, but he thinks it could quickly become his favorite if he could see his cum splattered across your skin.

For the first time, you don’t care that it’s loud on this side of the wall.

Because you’re on it.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

MM Taglist Part 1: @justvibbinghere @nickishadow139 @going-through-shit @honeycriess @natashachelsea @thisisew @kennedy-brooke @cat-or-kitten @sourapplex @magical-mischief-makers @reiincarnatiion @ccucumbers @secret-ly-here @throneofsmut @cami26cami @torchbearerkyle @a-frog-with-a-laptop @sevikas-whore @endless-worldss @vellichor01 @bangtans-jagiya @kalulakunundrum @pinksmellslikelove @sakurafrost3-blog @imxnotxhere @bookishbroadwaybish @justdreamstars @i-am-infinite @whichwitchisthebitch @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @sia-r @homeslices @quinzzelx @carlandonorri-s @juniper-july19 @ssmay123 @blackthorngirl @haivenhoule @18crazybutcutealsopsycho @bloodicka @wilmalovegood @jw83 @acourtofbatboydreams @hannzoaks @judig92

#acotar #azsazz #midnight muse #acomaf #acowar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel/reader #artist!azriel #tattoo artist!azriel #art school au

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chigirizzz · 8 months

Text

first kiss

characters: isagi, bachira, sae

gn! reader, not proofread so there might be some mistakes, anxiety attack (bachira's)

— ISAGI YOICHI

"stop," you told isagi when he approaches you in front of the school.

his smile disappears and he stops beside you, his body turned towards you. you continued to stare straight ahead, focused on the rain that showed no sign of letting up. "huh? what did i do?"

“you’re sick. stay away from me." your behavior didn't change, in fact, you were quite afraid that you were too rude or anything, but any remorse vanished when you heard your boyfriend's laugh. "why are you laughing?!"

"you're funny."

"and you're sick. stay away at least four meters. you know i get sick easily."

"i'll take care of you if that happens."

surprise took over you at his words; isagi yoichi always has been and always will be a pretty awkward guy—something that you didn't mind and in some occasions you found it cute—, which meant he wasn't the best at words, whether he was the one saying them or receiving them. he was more of actions and thoughts, not words.

there were times, however, when isagi yoichi pulled a special card and made your heart feel warm with simple actions or sentences and with absolutely no shyness.

this was one of those times. and as you stare—no, admire him with stars and hearts in your eyes, you feel guilty with how you kept a distance that school day just because he was sick, thinking that he wouldn't be offended. not exactly offended, but he wasn't happy either.

"yoichi…" you said. "i'm sorry. why are you such a good partner…"

he smiled and gave your head a few pats. "you're so silly."

"if i do get sick, make me a chicken soup."

it was an innocent joke, so you didn't expect him to suddenly kiss you. lips on lips for the first time, a moment that you never thought it would be like that. you responded to the kiss. it was a bit awkward since it was both of your first kisses, but it felt good.

afraid that he needed to stop to breathe some air (due to his stuffy nose), you tried to step away, with no vail because his hand landed on your lower back and pulled you closer to him gently, his lips now more hungry for yours.

he just pulled away when your hand touched his cheek—even if it was a gentle touch, the temperature difference between your warm hand and his cold cheek gave him a little thermal shock.

"now you'll get sick for sure," he says with a smile and pink cheeks.

"idiot. i love you."

— BACHIRA MEGURU

your legs started running to the boys' restroom as soon as you finished reading the message on your phone; your head filled with worry for your friend who was apparently hiding in one of the stalls having an anxiety attack.

these moments of his fragility were relatively common for you. bachira meguru had you as his best and only friend, so it was normal to notice when his insecurities and his loneliness got the best of him — and the times he got into unnecessary fights.

these were moments you were used to, but they still worried you a lot.

the restroom was quiet and empty, only one of the stalls had its door closed so you figured it was your best friend.

you knocked on the stall door. "bachira? are you here?"

...

"bachi-"

"come in."

you entered the stall as soon as he opened the door. the space was cramped and not very hygienic, which made the boy more suffocated, anxious, but he knew that your presence, although it contributed to a more enclosed space, made him feel safe.

"it's okay, bachira. i'm here, you're safe," you reassured him, your thumb caressing his hand, kneeling in front of him while he sat on the floor with his back against the wall.

"they made fun of me again." his hand now held yours, squeezing it from time to time. a bitter smile took over his lips. "i feel so alone..."

"you're not alone, bachira, you have me and your mother. the others are stupid people who aren't worth it," you said. "remember the exercise we've already done. let's start—five things you can see."

“eh…” he looked around; there wasn’t much inside a school bathroom but you could make it work. “my shoes.”

“and what are your shoes like? analyze them," you told him with a soft tone of voice to help him calm down.

minutes passed. you didn't know how long you and bachira stayed in the restroom but the absence of noise from other students confirmed that you were currently skipping a period. who cares.

you helped the boy with the exercise, occasionally having to imagine objects for him to detect because again, there wasn't much inside a school bathroom…

he was slowly feeling better, and you knew this for sure because when you asked him for the second thing he could smell, he answered piss.

"it's true though~," he teased you and his nose sniffed. his eyes were getting less red.

"yeah but i don't want to think about urine right now, meg." a sight escaped your lips; nevertheless, his answer didn't actually bother you, you enjoyed his jokes even if sometimes made you question his sanity. "let's just move on."

"ok~ what's next?"

"one thing you can taste."

"watch me lick the toilet!"

"no!" you flicked his forehead to which he just giggled. "there must be something in here you can try. let me check my backpack."

"no need, y/n."

you faced him confused, hands inside your backpack trying to find a snack. "why not? we're almost done—"

you felt a pair of hands grabbing your shoulders and being pulled forward—face to face to bachira, to be precise.

"because i think i know what i want to taste. it's in front of me right now." his low voice and vibrant yellow colored eyes made you at a loss for words. he was so close to you, closer than he has already been, that you could feel your skin tingle, legs slightly weak and your chest moving up and down slowly. what… "do i have the permission to kiss you, y/n?" he asked, thumb brushing your lower lip.

"i…" oh god. "yeah." you nodded.

and so he did.

despite his confession and gaze being gentle, the kiss was the complete opposite. his lips literally crushed into yours, the sudden force of his body making your back slamming into the stall door—and his reaction? he smirked.

you weren't sure if it was his first kiss, but since he never told you about his romantic life, you assumed it was. in fact, something tells you that the boy practiced his kissing skills on a mirror to try on you later on.

it was also your first kiss, so you couldn't judge.

your hand is now between the back of his neck and the back of his head, lightly pulling and playing with his hair.

everything was going well, so well it took you a few seconds to notice the hot tears falling down his cheeks.

"meguru, what's wrong?" your hand caressed his cheek. "are you ok? is something wrong?"

"i love you. i love you so much," he cries and rests his head on top of your chest. "thank you for being there for me."

"awn, i love you too." you played with his hair gently, fingers fixing the knots on his hair. "and i'll always be there to protect you."

"promise?"

"promise."

— ITOSHI SAE

itoshi sae wasn't the easiest person to put up with, which is why you were extremely confused when he first confessed to you and asked you on a date like it was nothing. still, in your five months of dating, you didn't regret anything. you loved him, he loved you.

however, there was something bothering you: you never kissed each other. but calm down, the issue wasn't exactly "he never kissed me"— the issue was that itoshi sae once told you he wanted your first kiss as a couple to be magnificent, magical and capable of leaving everyone's jaws on the floor.

it made you wonder for weeks how the kiss would be. it made you wonder so much for so long you eventually thought he forgot about it.

boy were you wrong.

sae didn't lie when he said he wanted it to be magical and leave everyone's jaw on the floor.

it happened at the end of one of his games, he scored the final goal and as soon the end of the match was announced, he ran towards you—you who were watching the whole time wearing his jersey, shouting his name—and kissed you slowly but passionately in front of everyone—his team, the opposite team, the fans, the cameras, everyone.

although your boyfriend always preferred a private relationship, he also wanted to show the world how much he could love someone. there was a bit of possessiveness on him.

there was a bit of possessiveness on him, as his lips left yours so they could kiss your neck, not caring how much it tickled you.

he then kissed your cheek and left without saying anything; there wasn't anything to be said, but the media for sure will say a lot of things.

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock fluff #sae x reader #sae itoshi x reader #itoshi rin x reader #sae fluff #itoshi sae fluff #bllk x reader #bllk fluff #isagi x reader #yoichi isagi x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi fluff #isagi yoichi fluff #bachira x reader #bachira meguru x reader #bachira fluff #meguru bachira x reader

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vax-merstappen · 3 months

Text

feelings (ln4)

my fist lando fic! lmk if you enjoy!

summary: in which lando clearly has feelings for you but will not confess, no matter how many plans you and your friends come up with.

warning: some swearing, lando being an idiot

Ever since you had been invited to join Quadrant by your best friend Ria, you had become increasingly close with the rest of the group. Niran was the first one you got close to, him welcoming you into the group with open arms and listening to all your content ideas. Soon after, you got close to Max, Aarav, and Steve, the boys always making sure you felt like a part of the group. Lando, with his busy schedule, took longer for you to get to know and have in your life.

But when you and Lando finally hit it off, you couldn't imagine what your life had been like before him. You found yourself watching Formula 1 races more often and wearing various pieces of merch sent to you by Lando himself. Occasionally, you would find yourself with a text from him, asking how your day had been or wondering if you would be free to grab dinner while he was in town for a few days.

But soon the tone began to change. You spent many late nights at his apartment, laughing over inside jokes. The random gifts from countries around the world kept appearing more often. Your phone calls got longer and longer until neither of you wanted to hang up.

It seemed like Lando Norris was into you.

You decided to ask Ria about it one day. After all, she had known the man longer than you.

"Hey, do you think Lando is into me?"

Ria gave you a shocked look. "Did you only now just pick up on it?"

"Yeah...?"

"He thought you were hot before you even joined Quadrant. He was avoiding getting to know you because he was intimidated by you at the start. But clearly that has changed."

"Yeah, now he's made it obvious."

"Has he confessed to liking you?"

"Not yet. But i really don't feel like he will any time soon. I mean, there have been so many opportunities when I've been alone with him at his house. And when we've gotten dinner. Or when he's driven me home."

Ria smiled. "Then we'll have to make him confess. Give him an opportunity he can't pass up."

"And how do you suppose we do that?"

---

You had asked Lando to a fancy restaurant in London and reserved a private table with help from Ria, whose family knew the owners. Lando had picked you up in his McLaren, dressed up in a suit. If you hadn't found him attractive before, this would have done the trick.

Dinner was delicious and you enjoyed the flavors while having casual conversation. You laughed over stories from his previous race weekend while you caught him up on the antics going on with the Quadrant group.

"This sure is a nice restaurant, what made you want to dine somewhere special tonight?" he asked.

You could have told him, but you wanted him to confess first.

"Oh, you know. To celebrate someone very special to me being home for once."

"Am I special to you?"

"Yes, Lando. You mean a lot to me."

You held eye contact in the awkward silence that followed. "Stop getting all sentimental on me!" he exclaimed. "You gonna start crying?"

"I might if I have to put up with you for too much longer, let's get the check," you replied, rolling your eyes before laughing.

It seemed like this plan wasn't going to work.

---

Niran sighed dramatically. "So you told him he meant a lot to you and he told you to stop being sentimental? That man is an idiot!"

"I know, right? Any ideas on how we can get him to confess?"

"Easy. Quadrant truth or drink hot sauce video. We ask him point blank if he likes you and he has to answer."

You agreed to Niran's idea and you both got to work writing the questions. A few days later, when Lando was available for the shoot, you had set up in the studio with you three and Ria. The questions started simple.

"So do you watch all of Lando's races?" Ria asked you.

"Of course I do! Wouldn't want to miss one."

You saw Lando smile at your response out of the corner of your eye. Just more evidence the man had fallen for you. You looked at your next question for Niran.

"Have you ever ghosted someone?"

"I have. She wasn't too happy about that one," Niran said.

Niran looked at you for a few seconds as he picked up the next question card. You gave a barely perceptible smile and nod to indicate that you wanted to go along with the plan.

"Lando, do you like y/n?"

Lando's gaze flicked to you before he burst out into laughter. "What kind of question is that? Of course I like y/n! They are a great friend."

Clearly, the question hadn't been worded correctly. Or Lando was finding a way out of admitting his feelings. When you watched the video back before it went out to the internet, you noticed that Lando blushed when Niran asked the question. He fidgeted with his shirt sleeve while he answered, unlike in any of the other questions. He knew the implications and what Niran was getting at. Clearly you would have to try something else.

---

"So you think he does like me?"

Max Fewtrell turned in his chair to face you. "I don't think he likes you. I know he likes you. The man has been down bad ever since he met you. I've never seen him look at anybody else the way he looks at you, like you're the only person he can see."

"But how do I get him to say so?"

Max sat there in silence for a few seconds.

"We're going to make you into Lando Norris' dream girl. He won't be able to resist you."

"What exactly does that entail?"

Apparently, it entailed a full day of spending time with Lando. The day would start with you taking him on a trip to Top Golf, where you would show off that you knew how to hit a golf ball. Next was inviting Lando over to your house for dinner. It would be a home cooked meal of microwave chicken nuggets and mac and cheese, two foods Lando adored but did not eat often. For dessert, it would be ice cream sundaes, a notorious favorite of Lando's. Activities for the night included Mario Kart and sitting together on the couch and watch episodes of Money Heist, one of his favorite shows.

Max said that if he didn't confess his feelings by the end of this night, the man truly was beyond hope.

It was a long day full of activities Lando loved, but surely this would do the trick that nothing else had. You started by going to Top Golf as planned. Little did Lando know, but you had practiced a bit before the trip so that your golfing skills would be attractive to Lando.

"Woah, you can really hit a golf ball!" Lando exclaimed, watching as you swung.

"What, you thought I would be bad?"

"Of course not, I just hoped I might be able to impress you."

You smiled, sensing that you were one step closer to getting Lando to ask you out. Even though golfing may not have been your favorite thing in the world, it was having the intended effect.

Next of course was the dinner. You drove Lando back to your place and led him inside. Of course he had been over a few times before, but this time felt different somehow.

"So what's for dinner?" he asked, interrupting your thoughts.

"I thought we could do something easy, like chicken nuggets and mac and cheese."

"Oh my god! Are you a picky eater too? I never noticed before."

You nodded. "Yeah, I mean I like a lot of foods but there are many I don't like as well."

"How were we not friends sooner?"

You tried not to let any emotions show that he had again called you his friend, but the night was not beyond saving yet. There were still four more stages to the grand plan Max had made.

When you brought out the ice cream sundaes, you could sense his heart starting to melt just like the treat in the bowls. The looks he gave you were different now, like he couldn't take his gaze away from you. And to be fair, you couldn't stop looking at his freckles and his blueish eyes.

"Want to play Mario Kart?" you asked nonchalantly, as if the night hadn't been planned from the start.

"You know I love beating you at video games."

You rolled your eyes. "You say that like I didn't win 5-0 last time we played."

"Oh you're in for it now!"

The competition was close, you winning the first two rounds and Lando winning the next two. In a close battle for victory, you got a red shell that sent Lando spinning and you passing him to claim first place.

"So who's beating who at video games now?" you asked tauntingly.

"It wasn't fair, I got distracted," he whined.

"By what?"

"You."

You couldn't help but blush. "What did I do to distract you?"

"You were shouting at me the whole race, how could I tune that out?" he laughed. A slight wave of disappointment passed through you.

"Want to watch TV?" you asked.

"What show?"

"Money heist? I've been watching that lately."

"Oh my god that's one of my favorite shows! How did you not tell me that you were watching it?"

"I guess it slipped my mind."

You sat next to each other on your small couch, legs pressed up against each other due to how close together you were sitting. It seemed like the night was a waste. You had done all of Lando's favorite things and still he couldn't bring himself to tell you his feelings. Maybe he just wasn't into you? Even though his friends had all reassured you that the signs were there, doubt started to creep in.

You were three episodes in and all of your hope was gone.

"I think I'm going to head home after this one," Lando said. "But thanks for having me over, I had a real good time."

"I did too, Lando."

The credits rolled and you turned off the TV. Lando got up from the couch and you felt cold where the physical contact with him had disappeared. The opportunity was closing fast.

"Lando, can I ask you something?"

"Of course, what is it?"

"I...do yo...have you..."

"Just spit it out."

"Do you have feelings for me? Like more than friends kind of feelings?"

Lando was silent for a moment. "Yeah. I have for a long time and I just didn't know how to let you know. Didn't want to ruin our friendship."

You sighed dramatically. "Are you fucking kidding me, Lando Norris? I took you on a date at a fancy restaurant?"

"Oh my god, that's what that was all about?"

"And then I had Niran ask you if you liked me? And you called me a great friend?"

"Well I couldn't just say it to Niran could I?"

"I was right there! And then this whole night I've been waiting for you to ask me out. You were just going to leave!"

"Ok maybe that one is my fault."

"Lando Norris you are completely oblivious!"

"I know I'm so sorry I didn't-"

You silence him with a kiss on his lips. "It doesn't matter. What matters is that I love you. Even if you can be oblivious."

Lando looked at you before pulling you in for another kiss. "I'll see you tomorrow. Let me take you on a proper date for once, one that I'll actually realize is a date."

"I can't wait."

---

"So you had to confess to him?" Max asked incredulously. "That man is worse than I ever thought."

"Yeah, he was just going to leave without saying anything."

"Jesus Christ."

You laughed. "But at least it's over now, you don't have to watch us pine for each other anymore."

Max rolled his eyes. "But now I have to deal with you being all sappy together. I don't know what's worse."

"Well I can tell you which option I prefer."

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris imagine #lando norris fic

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