Vienna Waits for You (1/3)
AU Hughie Campbell x fem!reader (18+) CONTAINS EXPLICIT CONTENT
warnings : pet names (use of baby), smut; unprotected p in v, swearing, (I suck at warnings I apologize in advance). Please feel free to message me if I forgot anything - I want all audiences to be able to enjoy!
The late afternoon sun floods into the record shop, reflecting its light onto its sage green walls. The front door was propped open, allowing the early-fall wind to blow in. The smell of freshly-brewed coffee wafts in from the café across the street, allowing for a certain coziness to settle upon the store.
You walk over to the vinyl player in the corner, turning a record over in your hands to look at the song selections it offered. Removing the record from its case, you pop side one face up onto the platter and place the tonearm gently. Fleetwood Mac’s “Silver Springs” filled the room, and you let out a small sigh. By the time this album is wrapping up, it’ll be about time to close the store, you think to yourself.
It had been a long day, and you couldn’t wait to retreat to the haven of your apartment above the record store. You were incredibly lucky to have your own place only a set of stairs away from your job, especially on days like this one where the day dragged on.
You slowly strut over to the other side of the store, rolling up the sleeves to your flannel as you mouthed along to the words of the song. Turning your back to the door, you began to pick through the albums under “Alternative, A”, starting your closing tasks of organizing the vinyls after a day of people picking through them.
“Oh, so that’s where my Hall and Oates shirt went.”
You were halfway through the “C” section when a voice behind you almost made you jump out of your skin.
“Holy shit!” You jump, clutching at your chest as you turn around.
Your boyfriend put his hands up in mock surrender, a shy, embarrassed smile forming on his lips.
“Hughie!” You cry as you slapped playfully at his chest, laughing off your jumpiness.
“Sorry,” he sheepishly replied, chuckling as he ran his hand through his hair.
It’s true what they say - fall is all about falling in love.
The fall time suited Hughie, you thought to yourself. And it really did.
Here he stood, the crisp city air leaving his bearded cheeks just a hint rosy, his rich brown curls messy from the breeze outside. He pushes his hands into the pockets of his green jacket, leaning into the adjacent wall and crossing one of his feet over the other.
You knew he wanted to look cool so bad - the mysterious guy who wandered into your shop to ask you what underground albums you would recommend.
But instead, he just looked like your boyfriend - this shy, handsome man who carried a scent of strawberries and the pages of an old book that you choose to reread over and over again.
Comforting, safe, and all yours.
“How was your day?” He asks, eying the record player. “I dunno what it means when Fleetwood Mac is playing.”
He loved how you based the music in the shop on the mood you were feeling. It gave him another opportunity to look into his girlfriend, know exactly what was on her mind.
You laugh, eyes still scanning the vinyls you were organizing. “I’m not sure either, but every day is a perfect day for Stevie Nicks. Sorry about the shirt.” You gesture to the shirt under your open flannel.
His blue eyes flicker to yours, then down to the faded Hall and Oates shirt you had stolen from Hughie’s closet that morning. You loved the feeling of wearing his clothes, the embrace they held you in as they hugged your body.
“Hey, no worries” he said, straightening from the wall and walking towards you slowly. “I think living together constitutes the right to my shirts.”
“Good,” you beamed at him. “I wasn’t going to give it back anyways.”
He smirks, placing his hands on your hips and pulling your body to face his. He wraps one of his hands around you to pull you in closer by the small of your back. His arms felt protective, warm as they hugged your body in just the right way while the cool breeze drifted inside of the store.
“Little do you know,” he purs, his eyes burning into yours. “I love seeing you in my clothes.
You blush, eyes darting towards the ground, wrapping your arms around his neck. Hughie moves his hand resting on your waist to under your chin, his index and forefinger gently tipping your head upwards and your eyes once again meeting his.
The way he looked at you could only be described as insatiable. You were his world, the sun and the moon, and being the lover boy he was, he always wanted you to know it.
“What would you say if I closed up a little early tonight?” You ask slyly, breaking away from his touch and walking towards the front door to close it. You stand with one hand on the lock, turning to face your boyfriend as if awaiting his response.
Hughie stands awkwardly in the middle of the store, mouth breaking into one of his signature boyish grins. In the two years you’ve been dating Hughie Campbell, there were so many aspects of him that you have fallen in love with.
You loved the way his hair was messy when he woke up every morning. You loved the way he left your breakfast out on the kitchen counter before he went to work with a sweet little note to start your day. You loved when he wore nothing but an old Billy Joel T-shirt and boxers after showering at night before bed. You would fall asleep laying on his chest, your nose entangled with the scent of him as sleep overcame you.
But that grin - oh, it made you want to tear him apart every time.
With a quirk of his eyebrows, he strides over to the sign hanging in the window and turns it counterclockwise, changing the “Open, come on in!” to “Closed, see you next time!”
You two run up the stairs leading to the flat, laughing all the way. Even though you’ve been together quite some time, you two had never lost that touch of playfulness with each other. You were still two crazy kids in love, head over heels for each other.
You could be yourself with Hughie, as could he. That spark that you first felt for each other is still burning bright today, and damn, that says so much.
Unlocking the door to the apartment, Hughie stands behind you, arms wrapped around your waist. He presses kisses to the back of your neck, laughing when you can’t find the key to the apartment on your giant ring of miscellaneous keys.
“I know, I need to organize this thing a little better,” you chuckle, notioning the key ring.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Hughie jokes as you turn the lock. “That thing jangling on your jeans at the shop is a real turn on. That’s why I can’t keep my hands off you.”
You roll your eyes at him as you push open the door to your flat. Two bedrooms, one bathroom, and one Hughie.
He plops himself on the couch, kicking off his Converse. “C’mere baby,” he calls.
You give him a small smile, walking over to your own personal record player in the apartment to put on a record. Hughie loves when you put a little music on during intimacy, he feels less awkward when there’s background noise. Jeff Buckley’s “Lover, You Should’ve Come Over” fills the emptiness of the living room as you turn your attention back to Hughie.
Your hand reaches out to caress his stubble-covered cheek, your thumb resting on his bottom lip, pulling softly. You gently thread your fingers into the brunette curls on the nape of his neck, your eyes meeting his. He stares back at you with an aching, burning desire - one that makes your heart flutter while the fire in your stomach grows brighter. You blush, feeling all the heat rise to your cheeks, biting your bottom lip as the top one curves into a smirk.
Hughie has a name for that when you do it -
It’s called going in for the kill.
In one swift motion, he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you on top of him. You bend your knees for stability, straddling him as he rests his hands on your hips - firmly, lovingly. Your hands find their place on his chest, his breath hitching as you run them down towards his abdomen.
“You say the words,” he begins, a smile pulling at his lips. “Tell me what it is you want, and it is yours.”
“I want you,” you purr back. “It’s always been you.”
And it really has, since that first day he walked into your store two years ago.
You sat behind the counter, pressing price stickers onto new inventory when you heard the bell at the top of the door sound.
“Hello,” you called out, not taking your eyes off your task. “Welcome in.”
There was no response - only then did you look up to see your future boyfriend standing at the far corner of the store, browsing the albums thoroughly. You paid attention to how he meticulously picked through the albums, so gingerly.
You noted his height, his messy hair, the same black Converse on his feet. The way he turned an album over in his hands. How handsome he was.
You had to pretend to act busy when he came up to the counter to check out. You totally weren’t staring at him the whole time he was in your store.
“The Nylon Curtain,” you announced, gently putting the vinyl into a paper bag. “Great pick.”
“Thanks,” he muttered back with a small chuckle. “Billy Joel, he’s cool.”
And with a small smile, he was gone- no name, no number. It kept you awake that night, thinking about that man that came into your shop.
It saddened you that the only thing you knew about this man was that he may have a liking of Billy Joel.
Thank goodness, the next week, he came back. And you learned his name - Hughie.
After that, Hughie came back to your store every Thursday.
He asked you when you opened your store the following Thursday.
You asked him what his favorite album was the next week.
He asked you what you liked to do for fun outside work the week after.
Then he asked you out. And the rest is history.
You smile back at him, leaning forward to press your lips to his. He graciously kisses back, slow and tantalizing, bucking his hips up while his fingers traveled down to your thighs. You could feel his hardness in his jeans, grinding your hips to press yourself into him and making him whimper under you.
Not breaking the kiss, you slide your flannel down your arms and off your back, dismissing it to the other side of the sofa. As Hughie smiles into your lips, he cups your cheek with his large hand, his thumb placed under your chin to keep your lips to his. Opening his mouth slightly wider, he forces his tongue into your mouth, yours begging him to continue.
Clamping down gently, but surely, on Hughie’s bottom lip with your upper teeth, he moans into you, his fingers digging into your inner thigh. “Fuck, baby,” he groans against your lips, the hunger in his eyes burning brighter.
Hughie uses his thumb hooked under your chin to tilt your head upwards before once again meeting his lips to your bottom one. He sucks gently, his lips brushing from your chin and down to your jaw. You whine with pleasure as your head tilts farther back, allowing him to continue his teasing. Your fingers find their way to the nape of Hughie’s neck, gently digging your fingernails into his beautiful curls, grounding him in pleasuring you.
His other hand leaves your thigh, slipping so sneakily under your tshirt. He travels up your hip and over the side of your breast, provoking a series of goosebumps under your skin from his touch. He moves at a deliberate pace, tracing your collarbone with his fingertips as if he was an artist admiring his newest work.
“Is this okay?” He asks, lips muffled by the kisses he’s showering over your skin. Your comfort is his first concern when getting intimate, always.
“Perfect,” you mumble back, feeling ravenous for him. His touch, his kiss, his cock - all of it.
His mouth moves onto your throat, nipping your skin with his teeth. Your fingernails rake down his back, earning a deep moan from within his throat.
Hughie finally breaks away from your skin, his hands reaching to unclasp his belt buckle. In a hurry, he undoes his belt, reaching next for the bottom hem of your shirt. He curls his fingers around it, removing it over your head.
“God, you are so beautiful,” he coos, his blue eyes bright. “So fucking beautiful, baby.”
You crash your lips into his, trembling fingers working his jean fly. Hughie’s hands travel up your abdomen to cup your breasts, gingerly pinching your nipples between his thumb and index finger, making your mouth open against his in pleasure.
Leaning forward, he moves his large hands under both of your thighs, lifting you onto his waist. Your legs dangle behind his back, his strong body supporting you as he walks you over to the kitchen island. He sets you down on the counter, his hard cock threatening to break free from his boxer shorts.
Your hands travel to the bottom hem of his tshirt, fooling around with the fabric between your fingers, silently pleading for him to take it off. He nods, lifting his arms to help you guide his shirt off his skin.
You admire him, your eyes and hands scanning every inch of his exposed skin. With another quirk of his eyebrows, he slowly begins to pull down your jeans, glancing to you with his eyes as asking permission. You nod, hands moving to rest on his bare shoulders.
“Yes, please baby,” you plead, gasping as your bare ass met the coolness of the island. Your jeans remain around your ankles as he began to leave kisses up your legs.
“Please, what?” He asks between kisses. He looks up at you from behind his eyelashes, with his big, blue eyes. They were surely feeding off of your pleasure.
You tangle your fingers in his hair as he moves slowly, seductively, hungrily. He starts to suck lightly on your inner thighs, leaving small marks that are sure to be hickeys tomorrow. Your head tilts back in pleasure, whining as he nips at the sensitive skin with his teeth.
“Please…mmm…I need you,” you hum. His hand travels up your body to rest in between your thighs, thumb rubbing small circles on the soaked fabric of your panties.
His eyes once again lock with yours, your breath hitching as he notices your arousal. “Need me?” He asks.
“Yes,” you beg as your head rolled in pleasure as he continued to tease you. “I always need you.”
With a devious shine in his eyes, he takes his second and ring finger into his mouth, lubricating them. You bite your lip as you watched him, knowing you were driving him crazy.
Hughie uses his other hand to hook your panties to one side, inserting his fingers into you. You whimper, head falling back in pleasure as you tighten your grip on his tendrils around your fingertips.
The way he pumped in and out of you was hypnotizing, curling his fingers upwards across your warm walls as he pulled out, resetting as he moved back in. The walls of your pussy contract around him, pulsing with every thrust of his hand.
“Is this good, baby?” He asks, grabbing your hip with his free hand, grounding you into the counter. “Wanna make sure you feel good.” You nod vigorously, the coils in your stomach burning hot irons, getting warmer by the second.
“Yes, Hughie, you feel amazing. Fuck…”
It always excites Hughie when you get close to your release, because he always aims to please his girl however he can. He absolutely fucking loves getting you off, more than he loves himself getting off. Your pleasure and comfort are always his first priority.
With your eyes closed and lips parted, you channel into each pump of his fingers, in, out, in out. You feel his tongue on your inner thigh, moving towards your center. You sit up a bit straighter, taken aback by his change in direction. His hand on your hip digs into you a bit harder, his head dipping to your pussy.
As he continued to finger you, he begins to lightly suck on you, making you yelp as his lips find your clit. He lightly grazes your clit with his teeth, looking up at you with his hungry eyes. The stubble of his beard runs rough against your skin, heightening the ecstasy of his touch.
“Holy fuck,” you choke out, feeling your release creeping up on you. “Please…keep going…don’t…stop.” He was making you beg for him, and he loved it.
“That’s it, baby,” he whispers lowly against your folds. “Come for me.”
The coil in the pit of your stomach snaps, sending a raging fire to your cunt. You fall apart at his fingers when your orgasm overcomes you, waves of pleasure cooling your whole body.
“Hughie…I’m coming,” you whine, riding your orgasm.
“You’re so perfect, baby,” he praises you, lips still grazing your folds while his fingers slow. “Tell me what you need.”
“Baby…” you whisper, still drunk off of the high you just reached. “I want you, all of you.”
He gives another boyish grin, one that showed his top set of teeth. He absolutely loved knowing what made you tick, what made you feel good. And when he made you feel good, he felt euphoric.
Sitting up, you grab his jeans, pulling them down his hips with an impatient giggle. He laughs back, grabbing the waistband of his boxer shorts, pulling down to allow his cock to spring free.
Bending over you, he eagerly aligns himself with your folds. As he enters you, you bury his head in the crook of your neck, his moans a sweet sound in your ear.
Your fingernails scrape at his shoulders, legs twisted together behind his back so he could bottom out inside of you. Your hips begin to move with his, legs pulling back into your chest, his tip reaching towards your cervix. With each thrust, your head falls back into the countertop as you feel the throb of his cock.
His mouth travels the curves of your body, his lips settling on the skin covering your collarbone, pressing light kisses. His hand claw at your bra, pulling it down to expose your nipples to his teeth. He swirls your nipple with his tongue while he toys with the other with his thumb.
Your fingernails dig into his back, traveling down towards his hips, Your hips buck with sexual tension, forcing Hughie to hold them down with his hands. He grounded you when you needed it, especially when he was busy fucking you.
He quickens his pace, slamming his hips into yours as he thrusts into your pussy. “Does this feel okay, baby?” He questions, his sweaty brow furrowed with concentration. “Just shut up and fuck me, Hughie!” You snap with a small laugh, wrapped in savoring the moment.
His lips curls into a smile, he encapsulates both of your hands with his. He loved to show you sweet physical touch during your fucking, because he just wanted to make you feel as loved as possible. He laces his fingers into yours, deciding he was in fact making you feel incredible, grounding himself in his intrusive thoughts.
“I’m getting close,” he pants, holding both of your hands above your head with one of his hands as the other traveled to your hip. Holding your hip steady, he rams into you over and over, his dick rubbing against your walls in the best possible way. Your pussy was begging for him, taking in every inch of him.
“Fuck,” he moans, feeling his hot cum fill spill into you. He finally allowed your hips to move with his as he rode out his orgasm, a deep chuckle coming from deep in his throat. “God, that was amazing. You’re amazing…”
“Mmm,” you agree, sex brain catching up with you. You wrap your arms around his neck, giving Hughie a lazy smile as his cock remains inside your walls.
“You feel okay?” He asks, cupping your cheek in his hand.
“Hughie,” you say, reassuringly. “I am beyond okay, I am perfect. You are perfect. I love you.”
He smiles, kissing you gently on the lips. “I love you, too. So fucking much.”
Ahhhh guys!!! My first PUBLISHED fanfic!! I have to be honest with y’all - I’ve had all three parts finished for a few days now - but imposter syndrome REALLY had the best of me and I’ve been putting off publishing this for real.
Please reach out to me if you would like to be included on my tag list for the other two parts, coming very very soon! I hope you guys enjoy!
In the meantime, stay serendipitous!
living in the serendipity 🤍
