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rebellious, lazy, and “dumb” older brothers with two younger siblings who get bad grades and like music 💔💔 (rodrick has a band and likes metal music, axl had a band before, and georgie likes guns n rose + bon jovi!)
𑣲 it’s quite obvious why you’ve never crossed paths him
𑣲 until you finally did
𑣲 “mom! why do i need a tutor?” sue shouted back to her mum who had previously stated the fact that she’s on the verge of failing science and that she needs a tutor to help her get at least a B on her next exam to pull her grade up.
𑣲 “honey, i just told you!” frankie sighs and pulls sue’s report card from a stack of discarded papers on the kitchen counter. “see this sue?” she points frantically towards the F beside the word science, “this is why you’re getting summer school this august” she yells before rubbing her temples.
𑣲 “fine! who’s my tutor gonna be anyway?” sue asks as she crosses her arms for the dramatic effect. frankie sighs again as she looks in the papers, she pulls out one and squints to read as she turns back to sue. “uh, she’s in axl’s grade” axl passes by, chest bare, in nothing but his boxers like always. “who is?” he asks, barely sparing them a second glance as he rakes a hand through his hair. “y/n y/l/n, heard of her?” this time axl looks “never seen her but one of my buddies hooked up with her, says she’s one of those super hot nerdy girls but personally i don’t believe that’s true” he says as he grabs a stool and sits down by the counter.
𑣲 “well, did your friend say she was nice?” sue asks, arms still crossed. he scoffs “nice in bed” axl mutters with a smirk, “what was that?” frankie asks, mirroring sues crossed arms as she leans in to get a good look at axl’s reaction. “uh.. nothing?” axl pauses and looks around to avoid eye contact.
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i need him kissing me like it’s all he can think about, his hand cradling the back of my neck, thumb stroking over the pulse point like he’s memorizing my heartbeat.
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A/N: so unfortunately msg night 1 did irrevocable damage to my brain and this was the outcome (dare i say there were three outcomes and this is part one...) shout out to sav for workshopping this with me at like 2am every night <3 also i'm aware the lyric is "affection" dw :*
i haven't posted any writing in almost TWELVE YEARS.... so please be kind i do indeed still seek validation/approval LOL
tags: sub!calum x afab reader, no y/n, oral (f receiving), pw no plot (if u squint we can argue that there's a plot), degradation (kind of)
It had been a long week. The days full of appearances at pop-ups and the nights spent preparing for the upcoming double header.
It fuelled him. She could tell. His confidence had grown exponentially over the past few years and she adored it, adored that cocky grin that would drop as soon as she was in front of him.
Bare moments had passed since he had commanded the stage, and he was already on his knees in front of her.
“Please?” He nearly whines, his hand resting on her hip as she leans comfortably against the vanity.
She looks down at him. Cheeks still flushed from the adrenaline, curls damp and sticking to his forehead, plump lips forming into a slight pout – the one thing that always undid her. Her eyes drift back to his, “‘Please’, what?”
The whimper that leaves him is obscene, unexpected from a man of his stature.
“Please, touch me,” his eyes flicker down to her arms crossed firmly across her chest, “I’ve been so good, I-”
“Yeah?”
He nods eagerly.
“If you’ve been so good, why have you been acting like a slut on stage every night?”
His breath hitches. His lips part and close as he tries to process her accusation all while trying to come up with an excuse, because she’s right. He has been acting up on stage, but he swears it’s just for her. All he wants is a little bit of her attention.
“No, no,” he shakes his head furiously, “No, baby, please,” he tugs at the belt loop of her denims, “I haven’t, I swear. You know what happens to me when I’m up there. I just lose myself in the music.”
The laugh that leaves her lips is cruel, but his excuse is pitiful. Almost comical.
“Did you ‘lose yourself in the music’ when you got on your knees for Luke?” His eyes widen, but before he can spit out another excuse she continues, “When you made sure your skirt lifted up after every move? Or maybe when you-”
“Not on purpose!” He cuts her off with a whine. His grip on the waistband of her jeans tightening, seeking any form of stability to ground him before he loses it entirely and starts rutting into the air.
“Had I finished speaking?” Her eyes bore into his.
“I’m sorry,” he winces, head dropping, “I’m sorry, baby. I just- it was all for you. I did it just for you, I promise…” his voice shakes as he continues, “I only saw you, only looked at you… Please…”
He’s always so riled up after a show. Making him wait so long without any contact should be punishment enough. But she likes him on his knees too much.
She finally touches him, her fingers gently carding through the damp curls. He shudders at the contact, body straightening, eyes still trained on the floor. She gives him a minute. When he still doesn’t move, her grip on his hair tightens ever so slightly, making him tilt his head up to look up at her.
The sight is sinful. Eyeshadow smudged around his eyes, from sweat or tears, neither of them knows anymore. Lips bitten raw from trying to keep himself quiet for as long as possible while she reprimanded him. And that look in his eyes that was just as good as him begging for hours on end.
“Poor baby,” she murmurs, his eyes fluttering shut as she gently scratches his scalp, “You did all that just for my attention?”
He nods, subconsciously leaning further into her touch. His skirt hikes up as he moves, the exposed expanse of his inner thighs revealing the marks she’d left on him just days before.
She tugs at his hair gently to bring him to his feet. His eyes follow her gaze to his thighs, heat flushing through his cheeks as he tries to pull the hem of his skirt lower.
“Oh, don’t be shy now,” nudging his hand away with her knee, “That’s what you wanted people to see, hm?”
He looks down, nodding timidly, his fingers toying with a stray thread on the tweed. “Wanted them to know I’m yours,” he mumbles.
“Look at me,” she waits until his eyes are back on her, “You have ten minutes.”
His eyes light up, hand shooting out to touch her before he stops abruptly. He needs to get permission first.
“Can I? Please?”
And with a curt nod his hands are on her, lifting her up onto the vanity as he immediately drops to his knees again. Eyes frantic, fingers fumbling with her jeans, shakily pulling them down before she can change her mind again.
“Slow down,” she murmurs, her fingers finding purchase in his hair.
He does as she says. Placing soft kisses from her ankles to the apex of her thighs, making the most of his allowance. Her breath hitches as he gently nips at her inner thigh, sucking gently on the thin skin. He takes his time, working on her other thigh before pulling back with a proud smile as he eyes his work. “Now we match,” he looks up at her through his dark lashes, pupils blown.
“Mm, we do,” her lips turn up to a soft smile, “Thank you, baby.”
The blush travels down his neck as he squeaks out a meek “you’re welcome” before returning to the task at hand.
His fingers gently trace the developing bruises as he kisses along the lace trim of her panties, taking a deep breath of satisfaction as he finally reaches the spot he’s been thinking about all day.
But she had told him to slow down.
So his lips trail back up to her waist, nipping gently at the skin before leaving a mark on her hip bone. His touch is reverent, the disbelief of her allowing this clear as he shakily moves to the other end of her waist, starting to leave a bruise there too.
“What are you doing?” She hisses, her grip on his curls tightening briefly.
His brows furrow as he pulls back, resting his chin on her thigh to look up at her, “Nothing.”
“You’re teasing.” She huffs frustratedly.
Curls fall in front of his wide eyes as he shakes his head in denial, “I’m not!” Quickly changing his tune when he sees the look in her eye, “I’m sorry,” he whimpers, nuzzling into the space between her thigh and stomach, “I’m so sorry. Just wanna make you feel good. May I? Please?”
Her eyes soften as his arms wrap around her waist, gripping onto her as if she’d slip right through his fingers if he let go even a little bit.
“This could be your only chance to touch me tonight.” Her thumb gently pries at his lower lip as he pulls back with a frown, “You better make the most of it.”
He glances at the clock. He still has seven minutes. That’s enough time to pull out every reaction and sound he’s been dying to hear from her. She can see the gears shifting in his head as he refocuses, nipping at her hip bone again. This time, instead of sucking at the skin, he bites onto the lace dragging it down her legs in one swift motion.
“No teasing,” he reminds himself under his breath as he settles between her thighs again.
His shoulders drop at the sight in front of him, relief flooding his body. He forgets where he is, who he is, as his lips latch onto her.
Once he starts, he doesn’t let go. He can’t. His fingers dig into her thighs, holding her in place, sure to leave bruises along with the marks he had scattered earlier. He laps at her like a man starved, uncertain of when he’ll be allowed to have his next meal. But he knows he’s doing good. He can tell in the way her grip on his hair tightens, the way she arches to his touch, the way she bites the inside of her cheek to keep quiet.
“Wanna hear you. Need to,” he pleads, his voice muffled against her, “Please, let me hear you.”
He can feel her hesitate. He knows he’ll be punished for it later, but it’ll be worth it– so he gently scrapes his teeth against her clit. She gasps, her hips bucking up to his face. The grin she can feel between all the friction is absurd. She tugs his hair as a reminder, whispering breathlessly, “Watch it.”
“Mhm,” he hums unapologetically, the vibration sending a chill up her spine.
He doubles down on his efforts, damned if she leaves unsatisfied at his hands once the time is up. The soft mewls slipping through her lips become increasingly loud, gasping out a moan when he starts to suckle on her. His fingers dig deeper into her thighs, forcing them apart when she tries to squirm away.
His eyes flicker up to her, tongue and lips never stopping, muffling a quiet, “Am I doing good?”
She looks down at him in awe, his eyes wide and wanting as he desperately awaits her response. “So good,” she nods, her voice breathless, “Being such a good boy for me.”
He groans against her, the throbbing pain between his legs sending his hips bucking into thin air at her words. This isn’t about him, but he can’t help himself when she continues to praise his efforts, voice strained from trying not to finish too fast.
“So well behaved until you get on that stage.”
He whimpers.
“But you put on a good show.”
“Only for you,” he moans against her, his knees buckling under the efforts of trying to hold himself back, “Always only for you.”
He nips at her clit, soothing it over with his tongue before suckling on it again, determined to send her over the edge. When her thighs start to tremble around him, he knows she’s almost there. He looks up at her, nose still buried deep, dick twitching as her lips part in a silent cry.
“Please,” he whines, voice muffled against her, “Need it so bad. Let me have it.”
With one look down at him, she’s done. Back hitting the vanity mirror, eyes squeezing shut, scattering the makeup she put on him just hours before all over the dressing room floor. Hips rolling up to his touch, he continues to work her through it. Kitten licks to take as long as possible to clean her up before peppering soft kisses all over her flushed skin.
Once he’s content with his efforts he sits back on his calves, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes crinkling as he smiles up at her, “Thank you.”
She sits up to glance him over, chest still heaving as she catches up on her breath. Her gaze stops just below the hem of his skirt, seeing the evidence of his own satisfaction dripping down his thighs. “Did you–?” The amused look in her eyes sending heat flushing straight to his cheeks.
“Didn’t touch, I promise. Just couldn’t help myself,” he murmurs sheepishly, eyes dropping to the floor.
She laughs, fingers hooking into the collar of his tank to bring him up to her eye level. His hands warily rest on her thighs as he stands between them, lowering his face to hers. Carefully parting his lips with her tongue, she gently nips at his lower lip.
“Think you can be good until we get to the hotel?”
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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