#This show is a hot ass mess right now--more than usual

[userlando]

lending a hand — lando norris

lando norris x fem!reader [5.5k] summary: exams are coming up and studying for it turns out to be more tedious than usual. luckily, lando is around & more than eager to lend a helping hand. warnings: 18+ fingering, dirty talk, protected sex (piv), brief oral, doggy, missionary, dom!lando, derogatory name calling, choking, slapping (lando smacks a tit and ass lol), everything is absolutely consensual a/n: HI EVERYONE!! i know it's been agesss since i came on here and i'm still kind of on a hiatus because i just haven't been feeling tumblr lately. i wrote this piece a while back for another cc but they've since then showed themselves to be a bad person and i don't wanna be associated with that. so i rewrote and added some things because i really like this one. so hopefully you do too :') i love u and miss u all so much, i'll hopefully jump back on when i've got my mojo back!! read before interacting: I suck at biology and googled every single medical term and everything it’s got to do with it. i’m so sorry if i wrote something incorrectly, please don’t come for me. thank you x

The air was stifling hot and damp, your fingers were cramping up and the words on your textbooks were starting to blur into one big mess the longer you stared at them. There were so many books laid out in front of you, pictures of cartooned organs and human anatomy that on any other day, would be of massive help. But right now they just made your head hurt even more.

When your fingers cramped up for the fourth time, you let go of your pencil and watched it land softly on the sheets in front of you. You were in serious need of a massage, tension rippling in your body that would only perish once your final exams were over and done with. It wasn’t long until you took them, two weeks to be exact but the stress was weighing heavier on you than you’d like to admit.

The only thing pushing you forward was the fact that you’d be one step closer to graduating and the promised deep massage in Monaco’s finest spa.

Your boyfriend had been the true pillar in your life. Lando been so patient and tried to help in any way he could when you’d seek comfort in his arms and awkwardly stumbled words. Poor thing didn’t know how to make your stress go away when you were at your worst, but he certainly tried his best and that was all that mattered. Lando felt helpless at those times, but he found himself relaxing when he held you and could feel the tension in your shoulders lessen.

You’d been neglecting him for over a week now, but he was nothing if not understanding and he took advantage of that time to spend more in front of his computer with his friends or even the racing sim, while you holed up in your shared bedroom.

It had made you feel a little guilty at first, seeing as it was his season break and he’d intended to spend his free time with you but your schedules didn’t align enough. There were only so many hours you could spend procrastinating before the stress got to be too much.

You’d first opted to sit next to him while he played and streamed but you’d found him too big of a distraction so it hadn’t been long before you migrated to your bedroom. Hearing him from down the hall was comfort enough.

It was as if your thoughts had summoned him, the creak of the door pulling your attention to it and you blinked away the blur in your eyes to watch his upper body and head peak through the space. The curls on his head were wild, unrulier than usual and you’d have taken a step back to admire them if you had the strength to.

“You alright?” He asked tentatively, and you nodded with a wave of your hand; Gesturing for him to come in because suddenly you were in need of his comforting hug.

He’d gone quiet in his office a while ago and you figured he’d gone offline, not hearing a peep from him. Or maybe you’d had, and just didn’t notice.

“You need a break.” Lando murmured as he stepped inside, coming to stand by the bed.

You blinked up at him and realised the blur in your eyes were from unshed tears of exhaustion. It seemed as if Lando realised it at the same time you did, letting out a surprised soft laugh as he pouted his bottom lip in sympathy.

“Darling.” He reached out both of his hands to cradle your face, thumbs reaching out to swipe beneath your eyes. “This isn’t healthy.”

“I’m not crying, I swear.” You placed your hands over his, letting out a watery laugh at the worry in his eyes. “I’m just tired. These words aren’t making sense anymore.”

Lando made a sound in his throat, turning to plop down on the bed. You tried to keep the scowl from showing on your face when he moved around the meticulously arranged papers on the sheets, but he saw it and grimaced in something you guessed were apologetic.

“How about we go out and get something to eat?” Your boyfriend suggested, laying down on his side and propping his head up with the help of his hand.

“I’m not hungry.” That was a lie.

You’d been cooped up in your room for over - you glanced at the clock and winced - three hours, and the last time you’d ate was a bowl of yogurt and granola. It wasn’t healthy, and you always made a point of eating before your insides started twisting with hunger, but it was easy to get carried away while revising.

“Don’t pull that shit on me.” Lando’s eyes rolled, reaching a hand out to nudge you in the side to garner a reaction out of you. You jumped with a startled giggle, swatting at his hand. “Just an hour and then we’ll be back, I promise.”

You shook your head, no matter how tempting that offer was. You knew yourself well enough to know that you’d go out to eat, come back and then push studying aside to cuddle in bed with him. And seeing as the both of you hadn’t gone further than kissing for the past week, Lando would definitely not protest if you procrastinated in order to spend some quality time with him.

“Lan, I love you but I really cannot abandon this until I’m done.” You gestured to the mountain of stress in front of you.

Lando followed the gesture with his eyes, stretching a hand out to pluck a notebook with your scribble on it. You watched him scan it, a furrow making its way between his bushy eyebrows and it made you smile involuntarily. He looked absolutely adorable and so very confused.

“Medical terminology…” He read before trailing off with a sound of aversion. “So… What? You need to memorise these words?”

It would be a lie if you said that you hadn’t been a little distracted while he skimmed over the pages as if he understood what the words such as Popliteal and Supraclavicular meant. You were too busy looking at the arch of his nose and the tempting pout of his lips, admiring the slight redness covering the apples of his cheeks.

His eyes flicked up and you blinked back to reality, ignoring the teasing smile playing on his lips as you answered his previous question with a forlorn nod. You watched him light up slightly as an idea struck him.

“What?”

“What if I help you out?” He asked, sitting up slightly.

You almost laughed. Help? You’d be a delicious distraction.

“How would you help me?” You asked instead, smiling as he sat up fully and waved the notebook in his hand between you two. As if that would answer your question.

“May I?” He asked and you looked at his hand hovering over the textbooks.

It took you a second to realise what he was asking and you almost shook your head no, but Lando looked too excited and you weren’t about to rain on his parade so you nodded.

He didn’t waste any time with packing everything up and placing them in a surprisingly organised pile on the floor by the bed, keeping the notebook he’d been holding close by as he scooted up the bed and laid down with his head on the pillow. You gazed at him questioningly, feeling lost.

“Wow… You sure cleared my confusion up.” You said slowly after a beat of silence.

You watched your boyfriend roll his eyes, so sassy and so Lando it made your chest hurt with adoration.

“Alright smartass. Come here.” His hand circled your wrist and the tug almost sent you flying over him. You squealed in surprise, thankfully steadying yourself before you toppled over and looked down on Lando between the curtain of hair that had fallen over your face. “Sorry.”

You slapped his chest lightly and rearranged yourself so you were straddling his thighs gently as he’d probably intended to have you do from the start. The position made unexpected arousal flare up in your abdomen and it wasn’t disappearing any time soon with the way Lando was looking up at you from his position.

“Alright, can you please tell me what’s going on?” You asked nicely and placed your hands over his where they’d snuck up and found a home on your thighs.

He freed one hand and grabbed yours, fingers slotting nicely between yours and you resisted the sudden urge to grind down on him. Something about this man made you shamelessly feral.

“Okay so, you have to memorise all this gibberish and what better way than to practice on me?” He finished his sentence by tugging softly on your hand and you bent down when you understood his silent request, slotting your lips against his.

His lips felt soft and you couldn’t help but open up to his tongue, your body automatically melting into his as his free hand found its place on the small of your back to pull you in closer.

You allowed yourself a few seconds before sitting back up in his lap, feeling slightly disoriented.

“Is this your way of getting me into bed?” You narrowed your eyes jokingly in suspicion, earning a laugh from him.

“No, I genuinely want to help. But I wouldn’t mind you in bed with me, either.” He replied, pushing his hips up to readjust his position and jostling you in the process. “Go ahead, where do you wanna start?”

You pursed your lips in thought, deciding that starting at his face and working yourself down was the best way to do it. You were, after all, already sat on his legs and had made yourself quite comfortable. With your decision made, you placed one hand on the left side of Lando’s head and got close to him.

Lando sucked his lips into his mouth, big eyes watching you in silence but his facial expression said it all. It truly had been too long since you’d had sex, but maybe there was a way of incorporating intimacy into studying. Who birds, one stone and all that.

“So, this is the frontal.” You murmured, the other hand coming up to swipe a gentle finger across his forehead before moving down to his cheekbone. “The zygomatic bone.”

Lando blinked slowly, but he stayed silent as your fingers trailed down over the slope of his nose. A giggle left your lips as he scrunched his nose, the skin moving beneath the tips of your fingers.

“The nasal,” You muttered, trailing your fingers up to gently touch his eyelids as he closed his eyes. You couldn’t help but place soft kisses over each of them, watching him flutter them open to look at you. His eyelashes were ridiculously long and seductive. You hated it. “Oculus.”

Lando shifted beneath you, tongue coming out to wet his lips and you were immediately drawn to the sheen of them. You let out a small desperate breath, closing the small distance between the two of you for a kiss. Your boyfriend made a sound in his throat and you pulled back barely an inch to whisper.

“Oral cavity.” Before diving back in for a second kiss that he was more than happy to reciprocate.

It was easy to lose yourself in his touch and the warmth of his body against yours, your hand coming up to grab his thick hair in your grip while his circled around your body to pull you flush against him.

“Lando…” You let out a small whine when he pulled back to bite on your bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth in a way that had your toes curling. “Fuck me.”

Any other day and you’d probably flush at the way you sounded so whiny, but you didn’t have time to overthink it before your boyfriend gathered up what remained of his self restraint to pull back. You chased his lips and only got a nip back, making you pout down at him.

“Keep going.” He ordered and you scooted up so your nether regions were flush against each other. He hissed your name in warning, “Don’t be a brat, finish what you started.”

You huffed and opened your mouth to protest but caught yourself when you saw the expression on his face. Shit, he really wasn’t playing around.

“Fine.” You bit out, wiggling a little in place to feel the smooth hardness of Lando between your legs.

The man in question tutted and reached out to grip your throat in a hold, gentle but it was strong enough to catch you off guard and still yourself in his lap.

“What is this part called?” He asked, awfully casual for someone who was half hard with their hand wrapped around your throat.

He flexed his fingers lightly and you searched your muddled brain for the answer, fighting the urge to moan when he squeezed. It wasn’t fair, he knew what he was doing to you.

“The esophagus.” You whispered, not daring to look away from his intense gaze as he carefully unwrapped his fingers from said body part, two of his fingers tapping your chin before resting on your bottom lip.

“Open.” He commanded softly and you did, without question.

You held his eyes as he slid two fingers inside, tasting the saltiness of his skin as he stroked over your tongue. The urge to gag hit you when he slid too far down, eyes watering when he wiggled his fingers inside teasingly.

“What’s this called?” He asked, and you could see the teasing pull of the corners of his mouth when you glared down at him.

How am I supposed to respond with your fingers down my throat? Your eyes screamed, but Lando merely raised his eyebrows and pressed his fingers forward in retaliation.

You gagged, a sound of despair escaping your drooling mouth.

You tried to reply with “Pharynx” but the words came out as a jumbled mess and you drooled down his fingers. But it was apparently good enough for Lando because he pulled back slightly to let you breathe more properly, stroking the width of your tongue in a silent command. You sucked on his fingers, cleaning them off of any saliva before he retrieved them entirely.

“Good girl.” The rasp in his voice made your stomach swoop as he smiled at you, placing his hands on either side of your hips. “Go on.”

You stared at him, not entirely sure what to do but he gave you the answer when he tugged on your t-shirt; A silent urge to take it off. You didn’t waste any time, grabbing it by the hem and lifting it off your torso; Almost falling over in the process. Lando chuckled at your eagerness and your face burned, but you refused to let that affect you. The two of you looked at one another for a beat before he dropped his gaze to your heaving, exposed chest. Never had you been happier to have foregone a bra, especially when he stroked both hands up your sides. He felt your skin beneath his palms, a shiver escaping you.

“Please,” You whispered, grinding down on the hardness beneath you. Your eyes fluttered.

“Please what?” His voice sounded teasing, bright eyes trained on you.

Instead of answering him verbally, you grabbed his hands in yours and placed them over the swell of your breasts. Lando inhaled at the feel of them in his palms, letting you squeeze his hands in yours. A moan escaped your mouth as his thumbs swiped over your nipples until they pebbled, back arching into his hold.

“So needy for me.”

His rough voice had you opening your eyes and he must’ve seen something in them because he took pity on you. The yelp that left your lips was anything but attractive when he embraced you and flipped you both over. Lando laughed when you bounced on the mattress, and you couldn’t help but giggle as the tension broke.

“Please, Lando.” You pleaded after the both of you had calmed down from your little fit, hands coming up to feel the taut of his stomach over his t-shirt.

You sounded needy in your own ears but you didn’t really care. And judging by your boyfriends teeth sinking into his bottom lip, he loved hearing you like this.

“Please what, darling?” His eyebrows drew together in fake sympathy, his gaze dropping to your chest when you arched your back.

You opened your mouth to answer him but the words died on your lips the second Lando leaned down and sucked a nipple into his mouth. You should’ve seen it coming, because he could never keep away from your tits for too long but the suction made you gasp all the same, hands coming up to grab at the back of his head.

“Just fuck me already.” You said.

Lando grabbed the both of your hands in his before pinning them to the side, suckling harsher on your teat before kissing his way over to the other side. You didn’t know what to focus on, the cool air on your wet nipple, his unforgiving mouth on the other one or the way his hands were digging into the skin of your wrists. The thought of him bruising you made you buck your hips up, craving it more than ever.

“You’re impatient tonight.” He drew back, blowing cool air on your saliva soaked skin and making you squirm. “I can’t decide whether I should punish you for being a needy little slut or fuck the brattiness out of you.”

You knew you shouldn’t talk back, but the words were out of your mouth before you could stop them.

“Anything would be better than this.” It came out as an indignant mutter but Lando’s eyes flared in challenge.

It was quick and you didn’t have time to react to his hand sailing down and slapping the meat of your breast. You yelled out in shock, feeling your pussy clench around nothing as you tried to sit up as an automatic response. Lando tutted, quickly grabbing you by the throat and pushing you down with a strength that had you gasping for breath.

“This is what happens when I don’t fuck you for a week,” He hissed, eyebrows drawn in anger but you could see the desire in his eyes as he bent down to your eye level. “One week without my cock and you start acting like a bitch.”

Holy fuck, the filth coming from his mouth made your nerves light up in anticipation. It had been too long, so fucking long since he talked and behaved like this. You hadn’t realised how much you missed it until now.

His hand let go of your throat and instead cupped your chin, his fingers squeezing your mouth together until your eyes fluttered shut in need with a moan. Lando grinned down at you, tightening his grip just to watch your eyes roll before pressing a filthy kiss to your mouth that you barely had time to reciprocate before he pulled back.

It felt like you were in a daze, feeling him pull your sweatpants off along with your panties. He made an offhand comment about the wetness that you didn’t register, choosing to grit your teeth and ball your fists to keep from touching yourself instead.

Lando undressed himself without getting off the bed, albeit a little clumsily but he recovered quick and grabbed your thighs to spread them apart. The look on his face made you flush hot all over, almost like you were a meal he couldn’t wait to devour.

“Look at that, so wet already.” He hummed in appreciation and coated one finger in your slick before sinking it inside of you, revelling in your gasps. “All this for me, baby?”

“Mmm,” You swallowed, throat drying up and eyes closing at the sensation. “Just for you, Lando.”

“That’s what I thought.” He said smugly.

He sank a second finger inside and scissored them until he deemed you stretched enough, his free hand stopping your thighs from closing when you started to feel him pull out. It had been too long since you’d been touched like this, and Lando was always so talented with his fingers. He could truly play you like a fiddle.

“Don’t.” He growled, the tone of his voice making you squirm and separate your legs obediently again. “Good girl.”

You watched him in silence as he pulled his fingers out, slipping them into his mouth to clean them off with a hum that you felt in your core. Sweat was beading on your forehead and you were sure that you looked a mess. Lando didn’t seem to mind it though, his eyes roaming appreciatively over your body before settling on your face. His eyes softened at whatever he saw in your eyes and something warm bloomed in your chest.

“Kiss me, please?” You begged, suddenly needing him near you.

Lando didn’t hesitate as he bent over to press his mouth to yours, the kiss uncharacteristically gentle consider how crudely his cock was pressing against your mound, one hand sinking into your hair to tilt your head to his liking. He broke the kiss for a moment to reach to the side, opening up the drawer with a groan and rifling through the contents. You watched in mild amusement, taking in the pinch of his eyebrows and the concentration on his face. You took the opportunity to press kisses to his shoulder and up his throat, your tongue tasting the saltiness of his sweaty skin. Lando’s unstable position faltered and you sucked a small lovebite into the delicate skin of his neck for good measure.

“Fuck.” He swore with a breathless laugh, steadying himself and sitting upright.

You smiled up at him, planting your feet on the bed and bending your legs so Lando could get even closer to where you needed him the most. His bright eyes found yours, eyebrows rising. He bit into the tinfoil, tearing it open and fishing the condom out to slip it on.

The rubber wasn’t needed, not really. But Lando knew you well enough to know when you had enough energy after the deed to clean yourself up, and today wasn’t one of those days. He would often do it himself, ignoring your embarrassing protests as he wiped you down with a cloth and eventually giving up when he swatted your hands away.

Anticipation rose in you when he positioned himself but he seemed to change his mind at the last second, a devilish smile widening on his lips when he patted the side of your hip twice. You knew what that meant and you bit your lip in uncertainty. The dreaded position you loved and hated at the same time.

“Turn around and don’t make me ask twice.” Lando said after reading the look on your face and you made a noise that sounded a lot like dislike.

But you definitely didn’t want to stall it any longer, so you turned your body around and pressed your cheek against the mattress with your eyes closed. This position hit absolutely every nerve inside of you, but it also left you completely exposed and that’s mainly why you hated it.

Lando grabbed your hips and lifted you upwards so your knees were beneath you, exhaling as he slid his hands from your ass and down your back. The feel of his palm against the skin of your back made you arch despite your initial hesitation and something about that made the man behind you feel all the more needier.

“So fucking gorgeous,” You heard him whisper and you believed it. “Can’t wait to sink into this pretty little cunt.”

Unexpected heat shot down your back and you moaned, pressing back against Lando in hopes that he’d finally get the hint and fuck you. Your hands gripped the sheets on either side of your bed in anticipation at the thought.

“Fuck me, please.” It came out as a whispered plea.

“I will, don’t worry, love.”

And with that promise, he nudged himself inside. You arched in response, eyes shutting as he started pushing inside little by little. The stretch was incredible, making your toes curl and mouth open in a silent moan. Lando let out a sound of his own as he bottomed out, one hand grabbing your hips while the other settled over the small of your back to push down gently. You arched, and he seemed to like that because he immediately drew back before thrusting back in.

He found a rhythm you assumed he liked and you matched it by pushing back when he pushed in. A wave of heat overtakes you and your eyes roll in your sockets the harder he thrusts; Like a man on a mission, eager to bury himself inside you as far as he can go.

It hadn’t occured to you just how badly you’d been neglecting Lando lately, but it was evident in how his hands grabbed anywhere he could find purchase, your name leaving his mouth in a chant as he fucked you harder. You needed this as much as he did.

“Fuck, oh my God.” You tried to pull your hand back to touch yourself but you were jostled too harshly and you ended up being thrown off balance.

A high pitched whine left your mouth as Lando slipped out and just as you were about to turn your head to look at him, he’d grasped your hips and turned you around on your back. He reached for the pillow next to your head, stuffing it under your hips and kissing just beneath your navel in the process as a silent praise for raising your hips without him having to ask.

You watched with bated breath as he pressed kisses down your stomach, over your mound before latching his mouth onto your clit. The unexpected touch of his sinful mouth had you throwing your head back, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Oh my God, Lando...” You moaned, attempting to tilt your head down so you could watch him but he was quick to flick his tongue against your clit and it only made you arch into his mouth.

Lando was holding the base of his cock, squeezing and willing himself not to blow too soon. He’d been waiting to get inside you long enough and he wasn’t about to end it before he’d had his fill of you. When he deemed it safe enough, he pulled away and positioned himself between your legs before sliding in. His teeth sunk into his bottom lip at your reaction, loving the flutter of your eyelids and the pretty way your mouth opened in a pathetic moan.

He couldn’t help but lower himself down onto you, mindful as to not suffocate you but just enough for you to feel the press of his chest against yours as he started fucking into your wet heat.

You took it like a champion, arms circling his upper body and legs falling open as he fucked you into the mattress with reckless abandon. The stress you’d been feeling the past week was slowly seeping out of you, and you welcomed the feeling of it as you brought Lando to your mouth, kissing him until you lost your breath.

“You’re so pretty,” Lando murmured against your lips breathlessly. “My pretty baby.”

He slid one hand between the two of you, long fingers finding your clit and rubbing it in a way that had you crying out against his mouth. Lando refused to blink, didn’t want to miss the look on your face as he brought you closer to euphoria.

“You know what this is, baby?” He asked, hand cupping your pussy and trying not to falter when he felt where the two of you were connected.

Fuck, you were soaking and Lando was really about to blow.

“This is mine.” He hissed, watching the way your eyes rolled before shutting. “Only I get to fuck it, you hear me?”

You opened your mouth to respond that yes, of course it fucking is - but the loud cry that left you instead surprised the both of you as your body tensed up, pussy clenching around his cock as you sobbed through your orgasm. Liquid heat trickled down your back and you momentarily blacked out at the sheer force of you tensing up in your climax.

“Oh fuck.” Lando hissed, dropping his head against the crook of your neck and fucking into your clenching pussy.

If your sounds and the look on your face wasn’t enough to bring him to his end, then the feel of your legs circling around him and locking him into place was enough to do his head in. You moaned weakly as he tensed up in your arms, shooting into the condom and grinding into your sensitive cunt, like he wanted to bury himself as deep as possible.

He probably didn’t realise that in his high, he’d dropped his entire weight on you but you absolutely didn’t mind it; Finding comfort in his heaving body and the feel of his damp hair as you buried your fingers into it.

“God, you’re gonna fucking kill me.” He garbled against your skin as he pulled himself out of you, lifting his head weakly to take a look at you.

You couldn’t help but grin at his flushed face and blown wide pupils, feeling thrilled that this gorgeous man loved you. And you loved him, so much.

“I could really go for a sandwich from the deli down the street right now.” You whispered dreamily, closing your eyes shut as he brought a shaking hand up to swipe a few damp strands from your forehead.

Lando pulled a face.

“If you think we’re not gonna order in, you’re sorely mistaken.”

He shook his head at the thought of leaving the bed - leaving you naked in his bed - to buy sandwiches. No matter how absolutely amazing they were. You blinked up at him with big eyes, pouting your lip and Lando knew right then that he’d lost any willpower he’d had left.

“Oh, you’re good.” He narrowed his eyes, sneaking his hands down to tickle your sides.

You squealed, squirming underneath him and yelling at him to stop, your body too weak to fight back. Lando kept going for a few seconds before he let you push him to the side so you were half laying on top of him instead.

“You’re evil.” You glared at him, but he could see the twitch of your raw lips and the love in your eyes so he didn’t take it too hard.

Lando gripped your chin gently and brought you in a for a kiss before pulling back to look at you. You blinked back and he smiled.

“Alright I’ll go down to the shop in one condition.” He said, trying to sound serious despite the massive grin on his face. “You hop in the shower, and then I want all these books gone from this room by the time I get back. We’re taking the rest of the night off.”

You suppressed a smile at the “we”, nodding your head reluctantly instead because for once you weren’t overwhelmed with stress and you weren’t about to bring it all back when Lando had worked so hard to relieve you of it. Hopefully he’d relieve you of it a couple more times later tonight.

“It’s a deal.” You agreed verbally, bringing your pinky to hook into his own.

“Alright, let’s get to it.” He brought an arm around and slapped your ass.

You jumped with a gasp, glaring at your boyfriend who cackled and jumped out of bed before you could kick him in retaliation. He looked amused as he walked around the bed to find tissues and get rid of the condom, cleaning himself up the best he could. He found the clothes he’d thrown on the floor, pulling them on all the while watching you stretch on the bed like a cat. It was so tempting to crawl back into bed and have his way with you but he gritted his teeth and turned to locate his wallet and phone.

“Text me your order, I’ll see you in a bit.” He said and leaned down to press two kisses to your lips, making a noise in his throat when you wound your hands in his hair and pulled him closer for a few more kisses. “I love you.”

You grinned against his mouth, teeth knocking together but you were too happy to care as he nipped your lower lip and pulled himself up to stand straight.

“Love you too. Be safe.”

You watched him walk out, smiling to yourself at how incredibly lucky you were.

[softfem-dom]

wedding ring

origins!husban!logan x origins!wade x wife!reader

a/n : I don't know what came over me to write this, I have no excuse I'm just horny.

wc : 3k

NSFW , PORN WITH (LITTLE) PLOT , WADE IS A HORNY SHIT , MOMMY & DADDY KINK , GENERAL WADE™ BEHAVIOUR sub!origins!wade wilson . dom!origins!logan . dom!reader

synopsis : wade has always been a kinky little shit, it seems that title is well-deserved when he starts to fantasize about squeezing himself into a married couple old enough to be his parents.

If someone in the team were to ask Wade why he looked as if he hadn't slept in a decade, he'd say he was up practising his katana skills.

When in reality, he had spent the whole night groaning and moaning against his pillow while rubbing himself raw to the thought of you and Logan.

What was so special about you two, you may ask? You were married and were old enough to be his parents.

It was absolutely not his fault. You two had no right to come into the X-Team, looking so fucking hot and expect him not to get hard.

You couldn't just walk around the place with Logan's strong arm around your waist and expect him not to stare. You couldn't just hum in acknolovedgment everytime Logan leant into your ear to rumble something that the merc couldn't quite catch and expect him not to grow desperate.

He was a walking mess. Day and night his thoughts were consumed by you and Logan, Logan and you, and what you could do to him. He couldn't help it, he'd blame the undiagnosed ADHD anyday for titty-flashing him with so many dirty scenarios anytime you walked past.

,,

Logan and you had been through a lot of shit togheter.

You had met sometime between the 1880's and the 1900's, both mutants and escaping from someone who was trying to do you harm. Both with the weight of taken lives over your shoulders, both with spilled blood on your hands. Both with the promise of living far too long.

And, cliche-y enough, you both had fallen in love. After uniting forces as acquintances, then growing as close as long-life friends, and then falling into the claws of love, you two had gotten married.

Happyly married, always attached to the hip, gold wedding wands on your ring fingers. Always watching out for the other.

And when William Stryker offered you both a place in a 'special opperations' team called X-Team, you both agreed —happy to help a cause—.

What you didn't expect, though, was Wade Wilson turning into another shit you had to go through togheter.

The mercenary seemed to never know when to shut his mouth, or how to read social cues, he just simply had a mouth too big for his own good. Hence why the nickname merc with a mouth was born amidst the members of the team.

He was a young man in his 20's, a cocky asshole and a total flirt that talked big game. He liked to show off during missions, pulling stunts, to impress Logan or you was another question that didn't have an answer yet.

You and your husband just knew the kid seemed to have the hots for one of you. Which made Logan boil with possesiveness because you were his damn wife, his and his only —possesiveness that in turn only made Wade all the more horny.

It wasn't until today's mission that you realized that the mercenary didn't have the hots for just one of you, but for both.

After trying to break in a building to stop some drug dealers, the team had split up and —ironically enough— left you three to flee from more guards than you could fight. And now, ironically enough again, you three were hidding in a really small supply closet.

You hadn't intended for it to end up this way, but your husband was with his broad back against the wall and with a pupil-blown Wade completely sandwiched between you two.

Wade was totally trying to keep his cool, desperately keeping up his usual cocky fachade, but his gut felt so damn coiled at having his ass pressed against Logan's crotch and his chest in level with yours.

"How did they notice us?!?" you asked your husband in a low breath, completely ignoring the merc between you.

Logan growled slightly, his nose twitching when a strangely strong scent wafted into his nostrils, shaking his head slightly as he tried to peek out from the small gap in the door. "dunno, doll, but I guess they didn't see us come here"

As you kept talking with your husband in hushed breaths, Wade was starting to feel his brain turning to damn mush as he was trapped between you two. He couldn't help it, your body warmth was sweeping into his bones from back and front —melting him—.

And then, suddenly he heard your voices stopping. Looking up with his half-glassy eyes, he was met by a quirked eyebrow and a deep scowl from Logan.

"are you damn horny right now, mouth?" Logan pretty much growled. His voice rumbling in his chest as he looked down at the young man between you two.

Wade blinked, realizing he had been so aroused —and locked up in his dirty fantasies— that he had pretty much started to leak in his pants.

"ohw, c'mon, what'd you expect?" the merc breathed out under your questioning gaze. "I've got my hot ass against someone's big dick and my face is smushed against this massive titties and jesus fucking christ—"

His words died down in a choked way when Logan's hand flied up to his throath, wrapping around it without issue —damn big hands the Canadian had— and squeezing. Choking a wheezed noise out of his mouth.

"shut your damn mouth if ya wanna keep your throath, bub" Logan growled in the merc's ear, his voice almost like the roar of a lion with how much red he was seeing.

You were just staring at the way Wade's eyes seemed to roll into the back of his head, thighs twitching before shamelessly parting —as if he wanted someone's hand between them—. The mercenary seemed to really be horny for you two.

"really, Wade?" you purred, voice low, as you stared at the young man —letting your husband do the job of shutting him up. "going after a married couple like this? didn't think you'd fall that low.."

Wade struggled to breathe through his nose with Logan's tight grip around his throath, but he spoke nonetheless. "aughn— you two are fucking god- relax the grip old man literally bisexual culture-"

His gasped words only made the growl bubbling up in Logan's throath grow louder. You saw the veins in your husband's arm bulging as he squeezed around Wade's throath again, watching the way the merc choked on his spit —saliva slobbering down the corner of his lips.

You reached out your own hand and placed it atop of Logan's, as if methaporically holding your husband's hand while he choked Wade.

"fucking god you two are really feeding my mommy and daddy issues right now y'kno-oh-oww—"

Wade's spech got cut off my another series of squeezes around his throath, making the mercenary cough and choke on his spit as his head fell forwards against your chest.

"watch your damn mouth, mouth"

"ngh-ah- unluckily for you I've got a thing for being put in my place by dominant, sexy, grown-ups. Big ones with huge—"

His voice died in his own throath when two, huge and thick, fingers were proding at his mouth. Sneaking past his lips and stuffing him full, his eyes rolled back, knees almost buckling underneath him when the meaty taste of sweat invaded his mouth.

"shut it, bub"

"hmn-nhgh"

"you managed to shut him up" you low whistled at your husband, impressed by how quickly and efficiently the merc had shut up. Now busy with nibbling at the fingers inside of his mouth.

"easy peasy" Logan huffed with a slight roll of his eyes. "don't know how long it'll last, though, just look at how damn much the kid's leaking"

Wade whined around Logan's fingers at the way you two were speaking as if he wasn't there, thighs trying to close when he felt your eyes going down and settling on the obvious tent in his pants —and the wet spot.

"so horny" you hummed, more to yourself than anything, before looking back at his face. "what does this mean, baby?" you purred as you pointed to the gold ring on your finger with a neutral look on your face —as if he wasn't coming undone before your eyes. "I don't think you're that dumb yet. C'mon, what does this, right here, mean, Wade?"

Wade struggled to swallow the spit pooling in his mouth around Logan's fingers, body almost tumbling forward when the Canadian ripped his fingers off of his mouth so suddenly.

"I- aughn- I—" he stumbled over his words, swallowing again, as his hazy eyes looked up at you. "that's a daddy and mommy ring" he wheezed out, a little "ah-ah!" escaping his lips when Logan grabbed his hair from the back —forcing him to behave—. "means- angh means that you're married. And old enough to be my grand-parents-"

"That's right, bub" Logan growled, leaning in close to whisper in Wade's ear. "We're a married couple and you're nothing but a pest."

"now, now, darling" you hummed lovingly as you looked at your husband, who was still grabbing Wade by his hair. "don't be so mean.. It turns him on"

That last was a low drawl, before your hand was cuping Wade's cheek and making sure the cold metal of the gold wedding ring you wore was against the merc's skin. "We've lived through wars, honey, you're a literal baby compared to us" you added, voice low and degradatory.

Wade shuddered as the cold metal of your wedding ring pressed against his skin, his eyes looking up at you with a mixture of desire and submission.

"I'm a- nnnng baby" he repeated, almost breathless. "Logan and you are old. So old."

Logan leaned in closer, his hand still clamped around Wade's hair. "Old enough to be your parents" he repeated, his voice dark and gravely. His teeth almost gracing Wade's ear. "Old enough that you shouldn't be interested in us, bub."

"Please, I- I- ahhhhnn I promise I'm good, I promise I'm good, I- I can be good."

It was funny, really, to see such a cocky and show-off of a man being this needy and whiny between you two. But what could you say, it was the Howlett effect.

You slowly slipped your gold wedding band out of your ring finger, right infront of Wade's eyes —watching the way he almost busted on the spot just from the sight alone—.

"this is what'chu want, ain't it honey?" you teased the mercenary trembling and whining between you. "you want this pretty ring on your finger too, don't ya? you wanna be the throphy toy to a hot, married couple old enough to be your parents, don't you, sweetheart?"

You held the wedding ring infront of Wade's face as one of your hands started to rub his arm —slowly going down to his hand—. Wade was shaking, he didn't even know how he hadn't cum untouched yet with how tight and hot his gut felt. All of his muscles coiled.

Wade looked like he was about two seconds away from spontaneously combusting right there in the small supply closet.

"Please" he breathed out, his voice strained and his eyes fixed on the ring in your hand. "Please, I- I want to be- nngah, I want it. I- I'll be good, I- aaahhhnn"

"Are you?" Logan asked, using the grip on Wade's hip to pull him closer against him. "Are you going to behave for us?"

After a series of jerky and rapid nods coming from the drooling mercenary trembling between you, "good fucking boy, there you go" your voice was low and syrupy, as you grabbed Wade's twitching hand and slowly —almost sensually— slipped the cold golden wand on his finger.

It looked as if he was going to combust just from having the ring on his finger, from the implications of having a wedding ring from a married couple on his finger.

Maybe you'd find an explanation for the creamy wet spot between Wade's legs and the way he was wearing your wedding ring when you meet the team in a few minutes. Or maybe you won't, who knows.

[eveningepiphany]

connection | one direction comfort oneshot

summary: one direction are your best friends and how can you ever tell them thank you for everything.

warnings: not a single one, just feel good comforting one direction. we need it.

a/n: this one is for everyone who needs it.

———

“I’m glad you guys are home”

���Y/N, none of us live anywhere near here.” Louis snorts the second your sappy voice echos in the lounge room. Not one of them lives here, but to you, this is their home

A mug of tea is hot against you palms, the room smells of sweet treats and is light only by warm lamplight.

A sigh cascades from your lungs, your head leant against Harry’s shoulder.

“Let the girl have her moment, Louis.” You hear Zayn chide with a smile on his face as he leans forward from where he’s rested on the couch to grab a cookie.

“This movies made me all sentimental.” You grumble, trying to now suppress the feeling swelling in your chest.

You glance around to the five guys laid in your lounge room. Your five best friends in the whole world.

Highschool is messy for everyone, and your experience was no different. God, if you hadn’t have met all of them, you have no idea how you would’ve ever survived.

Zayn in folded into the corner of your massive couch, despite how much room there is.

Louis the one who’s randomly claimed a spot on the floor, cushion under his ass even though again, there’s more than enough space on the couch.

Liam is sprawled out on your left, legs and arms hanging off the edge. A smile sits on his lips, content and at peace.

Harry is nestled on your right, allowing your head to seek refuge on his shoulder. He’s made sure he’s close enough to Niall to annoy him every couple of minutes.

Niall is cross-legged on the couch, mug of tea in hand, blonde hair tousled from Harry messing it up ten minutes ago for the fun of it.

“You guys are what brings life into this place.” You state, finality in your tone as your eyes avert back to the screen.

“Awww,” Niall coos, Harry whacks him across the head.

“Ouch! Bloody hell was tha’ for, I was being genuine you dolt.” Everyone chuckles, watching his hand come to cover his head.

“Oh, sorry thought ya were being sarcastic.” Harry snickers from beside you, chest vibrating in a familiar way.

“While these two idiots argue, I am appreciating your sentiment, Y/N.” Liam claims from where he lays, flashing a toothy grin at you.

“I just…” wow, are you seriously getting emotional over this? Surely it’s your hormones, or just stress manifesting into big feelings. But you can’t even get the sentence out without the feeling of a lump in your throat.

The sway in your voice draws all five of them to a silence.

They wait patiently for you to say something else.

“You all are my people. Having fun at home is not the same when you’re not all here. And when I go out without you all, I imagine the stupid shit you’d do to make me laugh.”

Bringing the mug in your hand to your lips, you draw a sip of tea into your mouth. Taking comfort in the sweetness.

“My house does not feel like home unless I’m in it with you five. You’re all like my family. I wouldn’t know where to begin tackling my life if I didn’t have you boys showing me how to do it.”

“Y’can’t tackle anything or anyone for shit t’be fair.” Niall remarks, trying to be funny but you can hear the appreciation that floods his tone.

“Shut up, Niall.” Liam shakes his head, smiling.

“Everyday, I thank whatever greater power that bought you guys to me. I couldn’t even begin to imagine a day where I didn’t know you all. And it’s something I hope I never have to live.”

“What im trying to say is thank you. For being my best friends.”

There’s a few seconds of quiet.

You have been like this with them before, usually when you’re about to get your period, when you’re drunk, or had a big thing happen in your life. But right now they all just didn’t expect it.

“No way, Louis are you crying!” Harry laughs, but there’s a soft and vulnerable lilt to his own voice.

“Shut up, ya prick.” He whines, hand cupping over his eyes and dragging down in exasperation.

At a glance, you realise they’re all crying.

“Oh god,” you gasp, guilt plaguing your voice, “sorry I didn’t mean to make everyone so emosh.”

“Emosh.” Liam mocks your choice of word with a soft tease, eyes shiny.

“Yea, girl. I need forewarning before you go dropping all that on me.” Zayn states, finishing the last bite of his cookie.

“We appreciate you more than y’know.” Niall drapes himself over Harry to half embrace you, half squash you.

As anyone would imagine, doesn’t take longer than three seconds for them all to be joining this impromptu group hug.

“Can’t breathe—“ you hissed out. Someone’s knee is digging into your hip, someone just headbutted you, and again, your whole diaphragm is squished.

Yet despite all of this, you’ve never felt so loved. You feel so much of it, almost like it’s imbedded in your bones.

“Don’t care!” Louis remarks, “your fault for dragging us all into your sentimental crap.”

“Thanks for being our best friend too, yknow.” A hum comes from Liam.

The hug doesn’t last too long, but long enough that when you eventually go to bed that night you’ve imprinted it in your memory.

How are there ever going to be words to explain how it feels to have a connection like this. One with people that you don’t see everyday, but that you feel always. It’s proven it can stretch a million miles and still feel the same.

These boys are your lifeline, and nothing in the world could change that.

Oh, how grateful you are.

[pricegouge]

Gougie, I saw your little post about fairy!reader caught in a spiderweb and being found by Soap - and I didn't think I was in to microphilia but holy shit that one post sent me down a rabbit hole. Hot damn. Like.

I just wanna be a lil fairy, small enough for the boys to carry me around in their pockets when I'm sleepy.

Soap pries this cute lil fairy from the spiderweb but ooohh no it looks like a wing was broken in your struggle - those things are so delicate what a shame. And you look up at Soap all wide eyed, maybe a little teary bc ouchies, and he's like well he can just leave you there, flightless and injured.

Maybe there's a language barrier, so you don't really know exactly whats going on, BUT WHO CARES, this handsome human just saved you from a far worse fate than just a broken little wing. Freak matches freak, Soap wants to keep you bc your so small and sooooo cute sitting in the palm of his hand like that - and you don't want to leave! Not when this human is giving you all the attention in the world!

Basically never leave his side when he's not on a mission. If he is gone on a mission he leaves you with Kate to look after you and you are INCONSOLABLE. WHERE DID YOUR HUMAN GO?? BRING HIM BACK!!! THAT'S MY HUMAN!!!

When he comes home in one piece you get to pepper his face with tiny, sweet kisses. He can't help but laugh a little, its rather ticklish to have your little lips on his cheek. He makes sure to return the affection tho, picking you off his shoulder and cupping you gently in his palms, and then kissing you up and down. His kisses are downright smothering, but they still leave you giggling and flushed, hair a little disheveled, breathless and aching for more.

And then riding around on his shoulder while he's home from being deployed, watching every little thing he does, content to lean against his neck bc he's so warm and always conscious of you.

When he's doing paperwork you're basically a little fidget toy for him, which you are more than pleased with. He keeps you laying on your belly in his free hand, idly running his thumb up and down your back - free massage! And you just fall asleep all warm and soft until he's done. Sometimes he puts his thumb on your cute little ass and wiggles you around just for fun. Maybe if you've been well behaved and not a mischevious little shit, he'll let you grind on his finger until you're satisfied. Mumbling praise and sweet nothin's at you - you don't fully understand what he's saying, but you don't care, you love the sound of his voice and you know he's being sweet on you, and that's all you need to finish.

Ofc whatever mess you made, he can just lick clean, he has no objections there.

When he's relaxing on the couch, watching TV, you can just curl up on his chest - maybe he buttons down his shirt just enough so you can lay on his hairy chest, and keeps his hand cupped over your little body like a blanket. Feeds you bites from whatever candy or snack he has with him - he doesn't let you have any of his alcohol tho, last time he let you try a strong drink, you got drunk after just two or three sips of the stuff and you were cranky and hungover the whole next day. As lightweight as you are small.

So.... yeah.... I might just be into that shit now....

this was so unexpectedly fluffy my god :')

imagine being that small and trying to take care of him in kind. you want to help out where you can, return the favor as much as you're able because he's been so good to you, but it's so hard! chores are right out because everything is so big! and you're just a little thing :( but you can help with his person, usually. feeding him chunks of strawberries that make you sweat when you go to pick them up, breathless with effort and laughter when he snaps his teeth at you playfully. he's never taken care of his nails before you and it shows, but that's okay, you like knowing his fingers better than anyone - better even than him, probably, as you doubt he can see well enough to spot that thin, silvery thread of scar that covers his knuckle, the one you think he must've gotten when he was still young judging by how fully it's healed. you like to imagine what had caused it, almost prefer being unable to ask because this way, it could be anything. maybe he'd even gotten it while taking care of another scary spider!

and you're more than happy to help when he has... different needs.

most of the time he just likes watching you, gets himself off as you writhe on his palm or balanced precariously on the mountainous bulk of his thighs. he likes comparing you to himself when you're there, makes your face heat as he chuckles, seeing how you're barely taller than his cock. sometimes, he lubes himself up copiously and cradles you in his palm as he strokes himself, careful to let you do all the squeezing with your limbs wrapped tight around his shaft lest he accidentally crushed you. it's nice, feeling the strong pulse of his vein throbbing against your clit, your nipples catching on the ridge of his glans with every upstroke. it's better yet when he doesn't drag you along, though, lets you stay put with your mouth working against his cockhole, kissing it the way you've seen humans kiss each other, with your tongue darting in to steal quick tastes of his cum.

unfortunately, he tends to drench you when he does cum, the sticky fluid catching in your hair and blocking off your airflow until he wipes it off with a gentle thumb. he's always so sweet after though, you can't be mad at him - coos as he helps you wash it all off because he knows it's too thick for you to properly scrub. he always lets you sleep in the big bed after, something that usually gives him pause because he's so afraid of crushing you. but it seems he needs you close just as much as you need him after nights like this, even going so far as to button his shirt around you just to keep you warm and close.

[chelseaknoo]

Valentine’s Day with Eminem

Eminem x Reader

Caution: semi-sexual content and Marshall’s baby fever <3

Note:sorry it’s a day late! And any era of Eminem you want!

For the past two years, you and Marshall had been together, and despite his usual tough-guy exterior, you knew how much he loved you. He showed it in his own way—whether it was pulling you closer in his sleep, always making sure you were safe, or spoiling you just because he felt like it.

With Valentine’s Day right around the corner, you wanted to do something special for him. Marshall wasn’t the type to get overly sentimental about holidays, but you knew he’d appreciate the thought, even if he acted like it wasn’t a big deal.

After weeks of planning, you finally settled on the perfect gifts—a luxury watch, custom jewelry designed specifically for him, and, of course, a fresh pair of sneakers. You knew he had more shoes than he could ever wear, but the man had a weakness for them, and you loved seeing his face light up when he got a new pair.

The packages sat neatly wrapped in your closet, hidden from sight. You were excited to give them to him, but Valentine’s Day wasn’t here just yet.

One evening, as you sat on the couch scrolling through your phone, Marshall strolled into the living room, his brow slightly furrowed as he looked at you suspiciously.

“You been actin’ sneaky as fuck lately,” he muttered, flopping down next to you. “What the hell you up to?”

You smirked, locking your phone. “What makes you think I’m up to something?”

He narrowed his eyes. “’Cause I know you. Every time you try to hide shit from me, you start actin’ all innocent like that. What is it? You plannin’ some kinda bullshit prank?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “No, Marshall. Not everything I do is about messing with you.”

“Mm-hmm,” he grumbled, still unconvinced. “I swear, if you put hot sauce in my coffee again, I’m dumpin’ your ass.”

You rolled your eyes. “That was one time, and you deserved it.”

“The fuck I do?” he shot back. “I ain’t do nothin’ to you!”

“You called me a brat all day just because I didn’t wanna watch Scarface for the hundredth time.”

Marshall scoffed. “First off, Scarface is a goddamn classic. Second, you are a brat, and third—” He stopped mid-sentence, his eyes narrowing again. “Wait, why are we talkin’ about that? Don’t change the subject. What are you hiding?”

You smirked, leaning in closer to him. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

His lips pressed into a thin line. “I don’t like that.”

“You’ll live,” you teased, giving him a quick peck on the cheek before standing up.

He grabbed your wrist, pulling you back onto his lap, his arms wrapping around your waist. “Nah, see, now I really wanna know,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your neck.

You laughed, pushing at his chest. “You’re not gonna distract me.”

“The fuck I ain’t,” he muttered, nipping at your skin lightly.

You rolled your eyes again but couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered. He really did have a way of making you melt, but you weren’t about to give in that easily.

“Marshall,” you warned playfully.

He sighed dramatically, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Fine. Keep your little secrets. But if I find out you got me some corny-ass matching couple shit, I’m tellin’ you right now, I ain’t wearin’ it.”

You bit your lip to hold back a smile. “Not even if it’s really cool?”

“Not even if Jesus himself came down and told me to put that shit on.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

He groaned, tightening his arms around you. “Fuckin’ hate waiting.”

“Too bad,” you teased, kissing his cheek again before slipping out of his grasp.

Valentine’s Day was coming soon, but for now, you’d let him suffer in suspense.

-

You stirred awake to the faint smell of coffee and something sweet—pancakes, maybe? Your brows furrowed as you turned onto your side, reaching out, only to realize the other side of the bed was empty. That was unusual. Normally, Marshall stayed in bed as long as he could, clinging to you like a damn koala.

You rubbed your eyes and sat up slowly, your hair a mess and your body still heavy with sleep. Just as you were about to call out for him, the bedroom door pushed open, and there he was—your grumpy, foul-mouthed boyfriend, holding a tray of food in one hand and a massive bouquet of deep red roses in the other.

"Happy fuckin’ Valentine’s Day, baby," he said, a smirk tugging at his lips as he made his way over.

You blinked, still half-asleep. "Marshall…?"

"What?" He quirked a brow, setting the tray down on your lap before plopping onto the bed next to you. "Look at that, I ain't completely useless. I ain't burn the fuckin’ kitchen down or nothin’."

A slow, sleepy smile spread across your lips as you looked down at the tray. There was a plate stacked with pancakes—heart-shaped, even—alongside crispy bacon, eggs, and a cup of coffee, just how you liked it.

"You… made this?" you asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

"Well, no shit. You see anybody else in this house?" he scoffed. "I ain't about to let some random motherfucker come in here and cook for my girl."

You chuckled, picking up a piece of bacon. "I mean, I wouldn’t put it past you to have Paul do it."

Marshall snorted. "The fuck would I look like, callin’ Paul at six in the morning talkin’ ‘bout, ‘Yo, come make my girl some breakfast’?"

You laughed, shaking your head before glancing at the roses. "And these?"

"These are also for my girl," he said, handing you the bouquet. "Real as hell, just like you."

Your heart swelled, and you traced your fingers over the soft petals, inhaling the fresh scent. He wasn’t the biggest romantic, but when he did things like this, it meant even more.

"You really went all out," you murmured, looking up at him.

He shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, well… you deserve it."

Your chest tightened at his words, and you set the roses down beside you before leaning over to kiss him. He cupped the back of your head, deepening it, his other hand slipping under the covers to squeeze your thigh.

"Mmm," you hummed against his lips before pulling back slightly. "This is really sweet, Marshall."

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, trying to pull you back in. "Eat your damn food before it gets cold."

You smirked. "You just don’t wanna admit you’re a softie."

"The fuck I do," he grumbled.

"Making me breakfast, getting me flowers…" You tilted your head. "You gonna write me a poem next?"

He deadpanned. "You want me to?"

You burst out laughing. "No, no, I’d rather keep my ears intact."

He narrowed his eyes. "You a real fuckin’ comedian, huh?"

You winked, picking up your fork. "Only for you, babe."

He shook his head, muttering under his breath as he leaned back against the headboard, watching you eat.

-

After finishing your breakfast, you leaned back against the headboard, completely satisfied. “Damn, Marshall,” you said, dabbing your lips with a napkin. “That was actually really good.”

He smirked. “The fuck you mean ‘actually’? Like you expected me to fuck it up?”

You giggled, stretching before glancing over at him. “You said you wanted to take me out, right?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, running a hand through his short blonde hair. “Figured we could do somethin’ nice since it’s Valentine’s Day ‘n’ all.”

You grinned. “Aww, look at you being all romantic.”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t push it.”

Laughing, you hopped out of bed and stretched again. “Alright, well, I need to get ready.”

Marshall gave you a look. “How long we talkin’? ‘Cause if it’s some two-hour bullshit—”

Before he could finish, you cut him off by playfully shoving him toward the bedroom door. “Go do something productive while I get dressed.”

“I was doin’ somethin’ productive—sittin’ here lookin’ at my beautiful ass girl,” he shot back, smirking.

You shook your head, laughing as you finally managed to push him out and shut the door. Now it was time to get ready.

Thirty Minutes Later

“Babe!”

You heard Marshall’s irritated voice from the other side of the door.

“Yo, what the fuck is takin’ so long? We goin’ out today or next Valentine’s Day?”

You smiled to yourself, carefully applying the last touch of gloss to your lips. “Be patient!”

“Patient? I been sittin’ here for thirty fuckin’ minutes! You better be comin’ out lookin’ like a goddamn supermodel or some shit.”

You smirked at your reflection. Oh, he was definitely going to eat his words.

Finally satisfied, you strutted over to the door and swung it open, stepping out dramatically.

Marshall, who had been leaning against the wall, looking down at his phone, glanced up—and instantly froze.

His blue eyes widened as they slowly traveled from your head to your toes, taking in every damn detail. You were wearing a form-fitting, deep red mini dress that hugged every curve just right. The fabric clung to your body like a second skin, accentuating your waist and hips. The plunging neckline showed off your cleavage, and the thin straps left your shoulders completely bare. The dress stopped mid-thigh, revealing your smooth legs, paired with sleek black stilettos that made them look even longer.

Your makeup was flawless—dark, sultry eyeshadow, long lashes, and your lips painted a soft glossy red to match the dress. Your hair cascaded in perfect waves, framing your face effortlessly.

You smirked. “Well? Supermodel enough for you?”

Marshall blinked, his mouth opening slightly before shutting again. He looked you up and down one more time, then dragged a hand down his face.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ.”

You giggled, stepping closer. “Is that a good ‘Jesus fuckin’ Christ’ or a bad one?”

He scoffed. “Oh, it’s good, alright. Good enough that now I don’t even wanna go nowhere.” His hands found your hips, pulling you in. “Matter fact, how ‘bout we stay our asses right here?”

You rolled your eyes, pushing at his chest. “Nope, you said we’re going out. Let’s go.”

He groaned, but reluctantly let go, stepping back. “You doin’ this shit on purpose,” he muttered, shaking his head as he grabbed his keys.

You smirked, picking up your clutch. “Maybe.”

“Unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath as you both walked to the car.

Once outside, Marshall opened the passenger door for you, but just as you were about to get in, he grabbed your wrist.

“Hold the fuck up.”

You turned to him, confused. “What?”

His gaze darkened. “This dress—where the fuck is the rest of it?”

You burst out laughing. “Marshall—”

“Nah, I’m serious. This shit barely covers anything,” he grumbled, eyeing the way the fabric stretched over your curves.

“You’re being dramatic,” you teased, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

“Dramatic?” he scoffed. “Nah, ‘cause I already know muthafuckers gonna be lookin’ at you, and then I’ma have to beat somebody’s ass.”

You giggled, sliding into the seat. “You’re cute when you’re jealous.”

“I ain’t jealous,” he muttered, slamming the door before walking around to the driver’s side.

When he got in, he cut you a side glance, still frowning.

You smirked. “If it makes you feel better, I only care about your eyes on me.”

Marshall grunted as he started the car. “Damn right you do.”

You shook your head, still smiling. The night hadn’t even started yet, and it was already entertaining.

-

After getting into the car, Marshall still hadn't gotten over the dress you were wearing. He kept throwing glances your way, his fingers tapping against the steering wheel as he drove.

“I swear to God, if one muthafucker even thinks about staring at you too long, I’m knockin’ his ass out.”

You laughed, adjusting your seatbelt. “Marshall, relax. I dress like this for you.”

He scoffed. “Yeah, well, I don’t like sharin’.”

You smirked, reaching over to rest your hand on his thigh. “Then maybe you should take me shopping and pick out what you like.”

Marshall gave you a look, raising an eyebrow. “Shopping?”

You nodded innocently. “Mhm. You said it’s our day, right?”

He sighed, shaking his head. “Aight, fine. But if you think I ain’t keepin’ an eye on what the fuck you’re buyin’—”

You grinned, cutting him off. “Let’s go before you change your mind.”

At the Mall

Marshall should’ve known this was a bad idea.

Not because he didn’t want to spoil you—he did. Hell, he’d give you the whole damn world if he could. But damn, the way you were tossing clothes into the shopping bags like money wasn’t a real thing? Yeah, that was starting to fuck with his head.

“Yo,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck as he eyed the price tag on one of the bags. “You tryna make me go broke?”

You giggled, slipping your arm around his. “Marshall, you have millions.”

“And at this rate, I’ma have zero.” He sighed dramatically, watching as you picked up another outfit. “What even is this? That shit ain't even enough fabric to be called clothes.”

You held up the tiny lace lingerie set with a smirk. “Oh, this? It’s for later.”

Marshall’s jaw clenched, and he snatched it out of your hands, tossing it over his arm before grabbing your wrist and pulling you close. “You are wearin’ this for me, right?”

You batted your lashes. “Who else?”

His blue eyes darkened slightly before he exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “You know what? Fuck it. Get whatever the fuck you want. Just remember, you wear this little shit outside? We fightin’.”

You laughed, kissing his cheek. “Noted.”

By the time you were done, Marshall was carrying way too many bags, grumbling under his breath the whole time.

“Fuckin’ ridiculous,” he muttered as you both walked toward the exit. “Why you need this much shit?”

“It’s Valentine’s Day,” you reminded him, smiling. “You said you wanted to spoil me.”

“Yeah, but damn.” He shifted the bags in his arms. “Next time, I’m takin’ you to Target.”

Lunch Date

After dropping the bags off in the car, you and Marshall headed to a nice little restaurant nearby.

As soon as you both sat down, Marshall leaned back in his seat, stretching. “Aight, now this part I don’t mind. Food? I can get behind that shit.”

You smiled, flipping through the menu. “Oh, so you don’t mind spending money on food but clothes are a problem?”

“Damn right,” he muttered. “Food don’t make me question my fuckin’ bank account.”

You giggled, shaking your head before deciding on what you wanted. When the waitress came over, Marshall ordered for both of you, making sure you got exactly what you liked.

Once the food arrived, you could tell Marshall was in his happy place. His entire mood shifted the second he took that first bite.

“God damn,” he mumbled, closing his eyes. “This shit good as fuck.”

You laughed, watching him practically melt into his seat. “You act like you’ve never had a meal before.”

He shrugged, taking another bite. “Shit, I ain’t sayin’ that. Just sayin’, whoever made this needs a raise.”

Smirking, you picked up your fork and held a piece of food out to him. “Here, try this.”

Marshall raised an eyebrow. “You tryna feed me now?”

“Come on, don’t be shy,” you teased, wiggling the fork in front of him.

He rolled his eyes but leaned in, taking the bite. He chewed for a moment before nodding. “Aight, I see you. That shit good too.”

Smiling, you wiped a little sauce from the corner of his lip with your thumb. “You got something—”

Before you could pull your hand away, Marshall smirked and suddenly took your thumb into his mouth, sucking it clean.

Your eyes widened slightly, heat rushing to your face. “Marshall!”

He chuckled, letting go. “What? You wiped it off. I just finished the job.”

Shaking your head, you picked up a fry and held it up. “Here, your turn.”

Marshall smirked, but instead of taking it with his hands, he leaned forward and took it straight from your fingers with his mouth.

“You are so dramatic,” you muttered, laughing.

He chewed and winked. “You love that shit.”

After finishing your meals, you both sat back, completely full and content. Marshall took a sip of his drink before glancing at you.

“Aight, what’s next?”

You smirked. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

He narrowed his eyes. “See, now I’m worried.”

You giggled, leaning over the table to kiss him. “Relax, babe. The day’s not over yet.”

Marshall sighed, running a hand down his face before mumbling, “I got a bad fuckin’ feelin’ ‘bout this.”

You just smiled. Oh, if only he knew.

-

The night had finally arrived, and Marshall had been quiet for most of the drive, the soft hum of the car's engine filling the spaces between you two. The city lights flickered outside as you both made your way toward your dinner destination, but you had something to share before it all went down.

"Hey," you said, breaking the silence and shifting slightly in your seat to grab the bag you had stashed beside you.

Marshall glanced over at you, brow furrowed. "What?"

You smirked, reaching into the bag and pulling out the small box with the watch you’d bought for him. "I got you something. For Valentine's Day."

He raised an eyebrow, looking over at you in surprise. "You didn’t need to get me shit," he grumbled, but his tone softened as his curiosity grew. "You know I ain't about all that gift shit."

You shrugged, holding the box out to him. "Yeah, well, I wanted to. So just take it."

Marshall hesitated for a moment before taking the box from your hand, his eyes lingering on you as he carefully opened it. Inside, a sleek, expensive watch glimmered under the interior lights of the car.

"Yo... what the fuck?" he muttered, his eyes going wide as he lifted the watch. "This... this shit’s expensive as hell, babe."

You just smiled. "You deserve it. You’ve been working your ass off."

Marshall laughed, shaking his head. "Damn. I don't even know what to say." He let out a low whistle, admiring the watch before slipping it on his wrist. "You're gonna make me feel guilty for not getting you something that costs this much."

You waved him off. "You already spoil me, Marshall. It’s not about the price."

Before he could respond, you reached into the bag again, pulling out more boxes. "And there's more."

He turned his head toward you, an eyebrow cocked in suspicion. "You serious? You get me more shit?"

You chuckled softly, handing it over. "You’ll see."

He opened it slowly, his expression changing from confusion to shock as he revealed the custom chain—his initials carved into the thick gold links, designed with care and made specifically for him. Then the expensive sneakers, which also blew his mind.

"Goddamn..." he whispered, clearly impressed. "This is... this is fuckin' next level."

You grinned. "I figured you’d like it."

"Like it? Babe, I fuckin’ love it." His voice softened, and his gaze turned to you, his usual tough demeanor melting away. "You didn’t have to do all this, though."

You shrugged, feeling a little bashful at the sincerity in his eyes. "I wanted to."

Marshall smiled, shaking his head. "You're something else, you know that? Thank you." He took a deep breath, looking down at the watch and chain once more. "I feel like a damn millionaire now."

You laughed. "You *are* a damn millionaire."

"Yeah, but this... this is a different kind of flex," he said, the grin on his face growing wider. "I’m not tryna show off, but damn, I look good."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help but smile. "You always look good."

He shot you a playful wink before pulling into the parking lot of the restaurant. "Alright, now it’s my turn to take care of you."

You glanced around at the fancy cars parked in front of the restaurant, feeling the anticipation building up. "Where are we going?"

Marshall parked the car, turning off the engine. "It’s a surprise."

You raised an eyebrow, but before you could say anything else, he was already getting out of the car and opening your door. "Come on, let’s go."

You took his hand as he led you toward the entrance of the restaurant, the warmth of the night air brushing against your skin. The moment you stepped inside, you were hit with the unmistakable scent of luxury—wood paneling, rich leather seats, and the soft clinking of silverware.

The hostess greeted you both, giving you a nod as she checked the reservation list. "Mr. Mathers, your table is ready."

Marshall smirked, glancing over at you. "I told you I got this."

As you followed her to your table, you couldn’t help but notice the view—this restaurant had a balcony seating area that overlooked the entire city. The lights below looked like a sea of stars, and the atmosphere was quiet, intimate.

The hostess pulled out the chair for you, and you sat down, still in awe of the beautiful setting. Marshall slid into the seat next to you, his eyes scanning the area as he looked satisfied with himself.

"Damn," you whispered, taking in the view. "You really went all out, huh?"

"Only for you," he said, his voice low and genuine. "I told you, I’m makin’ tonight special. You deserve it."

You reached across the table, taking his hand in yours. "I don’t need fancy stuff, Marshall. I just need you."

He squeezed your hand, his thumb running over your skin as he looked at you with a soft smile. "Yeah, well, I want to give you more than that. I want you to know you’re the best thing I got."

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across your face. "You’re not so bad yourself, Slim."

He chuckled at the nickname, leaning back in his chair. "Guess I got a soft spot for you, huh?"

"Guess so," you teased, leaning forward as you eyed the menu. "So what are we ordering?"

Marshall scanned the options, but you could tell he was still lost in thought. He stared at you for a moment, his gaze lingering before he looked away. "I’ll let you pick. You know what you like."

You raised an eyebrow, grinning. "Are you serious? You’re not even gonna help?"

He leaned in, his voice lowering to something more playful. "Hell no. It’s your night. I’m just here to enjoy the view."

-

You couldn't resist. There was something so satisfying about pushing Marshall’s buttons, especially when he was already feeling the weight of the night’s lavish surprises. The waiter stood at your table, waiting patiently for your order. Marshall was leaning back in his chair, trying to look casual, but you could see the tension in his shoulders. You decided it was time to have some fun.

"Alright," you said, flipping through the menu one last time. "I’ll have the lobster bisque as a starter. And, uh, the Wagyu beef, medium-rare, with a side of truffle fries."

Marshall's eyes widened as he leaned forward, clearly about to say something.

"Also, throw in the foie gras. Gotta go all out, right?" You grinned, knowing full well he’d start to get worked up.

Marshall’s mouth hung open for a second before he snapped it shut, glancing at you with a mix of disbelief and amusement. "You gotta be fuckin' kiddin' me," he muttered under his breath, his eyes narrowing. "I’m tryna treat you right, and you’re gonna hit me with that shit?"

The waiter, trying his best to be polite, wrote down your order and nodded before walking off to place it in the kitchen. Marshall turned his attention back to you, looking like he was about to burst.

"You really gonna make me pay for all this?" he asked, an amused yet annoyed look crossing his face. "I mean, I get it, it’s Valentine’s Day, but fuck. What’s next, a bottle of 200-dollar champagne?"

You chuckled, leaning back in your chair, enjoying the show. "Maybe," you teased, trying to hold in your laughter. "Why not? You only live once, right?"

Marshall shook his head in mock disbelief, his hands running over his face as if he couldn’t believe the audacity. "You are somethin’ else, you know that?" His tone was half exasperated, half impressed. "I swear, you’re gonna bankrupt me before this night’s over."

"Yeah, well, I like to live dangerously," you said, still grinning. "You knew what you were getting into when you started dating me, Marshall. Don’t act all surprised."

Marshall let out a deep sigh and rolled his eyes. "Fuckin' crazy," he muttered under his breath, though his lips were still curling up at the edges. "You really are a pain in my ass."

"Yeah, but you love it," you teased, giving him a wink.

"Love it? Hell, I’m just tryna keep my bank account from catchin' fire." He paused, glancing at you sideways with a smirk. "But... I guess you do look good enough to justify it. Maybe."

You laughed, raising an eyebrow. "Maybe?"

"Alright, alright," he said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "You look damn good. I’ll give you that. But don’t push it, alright?"

The waiter returned soon after with a basket of freshly baked bread and a bottle of sparkling water, which you immediately ignored, still grinning. "The bread looks good, but I’m holding out for the good stuff," you said, leaning forward, clearly relishing the moment.

Marshall grabbed a piece of bread, tearing into it with a sigh, clearly trying to calm himself down. "I swear, if you order another thousand-dollar meal, I’m gonna fucking lose it."

"You’ll be fine," you said nonchalantly, enjoying every second of his misery. "It’s not like you’re gonna go broke over this."

"Don’t jinx me, babe," he shot back, shoving a piece of bread in his mouth. "You’re making me second guess every damn decision I’ve made tonight."

You leaned back in your chair, taking a sip of the water. "Relax, Marshall. You’re not gonna die from a fancy dinner."

"Well, if I do, I’m blaming you," he said, taking another bite of bread. "I told you I didn’t want any of this shit. But here I am, gettin’ sucked into your ridiculousness."

You smiled smugly. "You love it. Don’t lie."

He threw his hands up in exasperation, but there was a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Alright, fine. I love it. But damn, you’re gonna make me broke doing it."

"Hey, at least I’m worth it," you said, giving him a wink.

"Yeah, yeah," Marshall muttered, shaking his head as he reached for the wine list on the table. "You better be worth it, or else I’m putting my foot down."

You leaned over the table toward him, your smile widening. "You wouldn’t dare."

"Try me," he shot back with a smirk, raising an eyebrow. "You know I’ll do it."

As the conversation continued, the food started to arrive, each dish more expensive and extravagant than the last. The lobster bisque came out first, and it was rich, creamy, and perfect. Marshall hesitated for a second before taking a bite.

"Okay," he said begrudgingly. "This actually tastes pretty damn good."

"I know," you said, taking a spoonful yourself. "Told you."

The next dish, the Wagyu beef, arrived, perfectly seared and looking like it belonged in a five-star restaurant. You cut into it with ease, savoring the flavor. Marshall just shook his head, staring at the plate in disbelief.

"You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me," he muttered. "How the hell is this worth that much money?"

"Because it’s amazing," you replied with a grin. "It’s like the best steak you’ve ever had, but a hundred times better."

Marshall finally dug into his steak, pausing for a moment before looking up at you. "Alright, I’ll admit it. This is... fuckin’ delicious."

"Told you," you said smugly.

As the night went on, you both fed each other little bites of the various dishes, laughing and teasing each other along the way. You'd fork a piece of your steak and hold it out for him to eat, and he'd do the same with the truffle fries. You could see him start to relax, though he still had that playful edge to him.

After a while, Marshall leaned back in his chair, his arm casually resting on the back of yours. "You’re a handful, but damn if you don’t make this fun."

You rested your head against his shoulder, content. "And you love every second of it."

"Yeah, yeah. Don’t get cocky," he grumbled, though there was a glint of amusement in his eyes.

As the night wore on, the atmosphere at the restaurant was starting to feel a little different. The balcony where you were sitting had a great view of the city, but with that view came a lot of attention. You were halfway through your meal when you noticed the first pair of eyes lingering on your boyfriend. Marshall didn’t seem to notice at first, but as you looked around, it became obvious that people were staring, some of them even sneaking pictures and videos on their phones.

You sighed and glanced over at Marshall, who was still focused on his food, though you could tell something was starting to bug him. He could sense it too. His brow furrowed, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Fucking hell," he muttered under his breath, his gaze darting to a couple sitting at a nearby table, their phone held up just a little too obviously in his direction. "Do these assholes have no shame?"

You tried to shrug it off, giving him a small smile to reassure him. "It’s fine, Marshall. Let them take their stupid pictures. We’re here to enjoy the night, right?"

But that didn't seem to calm him down. His jaw tightened as he leaned back in his chair, clearly irritated. "Yeah, I get it. But it’s like, can’t a guy just have a fucking dinner without being treated like a damn zoo animal?"

You could tell he was starting to get worked up, so you reached over and put a hand on his, squeezing it gently. "I know, but this is what comes with the territory, babe. You’re Eminem. People want a piece of you."

He shot you a look, his eyes narrowing with frustration. "I don’t give a shit about all that. I just wanna eat my fucking food in peace."

"Yeah, I get it," you said, trying to calm him down, "but they’re gonna do it anyway. Might as well not let it ruin the night."

Marshall leaned forward, shaking his head. "It’s just annoying, man. Every time we go out, it’s like I’m fuckin’ on display." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You’d think they’d give me a break, especially on a night like tonight."

"I’m fine with it," you said, leaning in close. "I’m used to it by now. It’s not a big deal. Let them stare. They’re not important."

Marshall shot a glance at you, his lips pressed into a thin line, clearly still frustrated. "I just don’t like it. Makes me feel like I’m some fucking animal in a cage." He turned back toward the table, but you could see the tension in his shoulders. "I want to be here with you, not with a bunch of fucking strangers watching me eat like I’m some kind of freak."

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at his over-the-top reaction, but you understood. Being in the public eye like he was, it was no surprise that sometimes he’d get sick of it. Still, you didn’t want it to ruin the vibe of the night.

"Okay, okay, I get it," you said, smiling as you reached for your glass of wine. "But how about this? Let’s just enjoy the meal. If they wanna stare, fine. But you and me, we’re gonna have a good time tonight. Just us."

Marshall looked at you for a moment, his eyes softening slightly. "Yeah, yeah. I guess you’re right. I’m just so fucking tired of it sometimes." He let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing his face with both hands.

"I know, babe," you said, squeezing his hand again. "But let’s not let them ruin our night, okay? We deserve this."

He gave you a small, reluctant smile, his mood lightening just a bit. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Fuck 'em."

You chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. "Exactly. Fuck 'em. They’re not important."

Just as you said that, a couple at the next table discreetly took another picture, trying to be sneaky about it. You caught them and shot them a pointed look, but the couple quickly turned their attention back to their own conversation. Marshall noticed it too, and his lips twitched in amusement.

"See? Told you," he muttered, rolling his eyes. "Fucking ridiculous."

"Don’t let them get to you," you said, smiling. "They’re just fans. They’ll get over it."

"Yeah, well, I hope they do before I fucking snap," he grumbled. But even though he was still irritated, you could tell his mood was lifting a little.

The waiter came back around to check on you, and Marshall put on a strained smile, though you could tell he was still agitated. "Yeah, we’re good," he said, though his voice lacked the usual enthusiasm. "Just, uh, you know, dealing with some bullshit over here."

The waiter smiled politely, unaware of the tension. "Of course, sir. Is there anything else I can get you?"

Marshall shook his head, his grip on his wine glass tightening. "Nah, we’re good for now. Thanks."

Once the waiter left, you turned to Marshall, trying to make him laugh. "You know, if you just smiled at them, they might stop."

Marshall shot you a side-eye, his lips curling in a sarcastic smirk. "You want me to smile at them? Like a fucking puppy?"

You burst out laughing. "Well, it might help."

"Yeah, well, fuck that," he grumbled. "I’m not here to entertain anyone. I’m here with you." He finally relaxed in his seat, his mood starting to shift as he took a deep breath. "Sorry, babe. I didn’t mean to be a dick. Just... sometimes I wish I could have a night out without all this shit."

"I get it, really," you said softly, reaching across the table to touch his hand. "But we’re here now. Just focus on me. I don’t care what they’re doing."

Marshall’s eyes softened as he looked at you, his earlier frustration fading. "I don’t know what I’d do without you."

Eminem leaned back in his chair, eyes sparkling mischievously as he glanced at you. You’d been enjoying the rest of your meal, laughing and joking around, but his demeanor had changed. You could tell something was coming.

"Alright, baby," he said with a sly grin, leaning toward you. "I’ve got one more surprise for you."

You raised an eyebrow, feeling the excitement bubble up. "Another one? What is it?"

He just shook his head, a little smirk playing on his lips. "Nope. You gotta trust me. Close your eyes."

You narrowed your eyes playfully at him, not quite believing him. "You’re not gonna make me do something weird, are you?"

He chuckled. "Nah, I wouldn’t do that. Just... close your eyes. Trust me."

Rolling your eyes but smiling, you obeyed, closing them and folding your arms on the table. Your heart started beating faster as the anticipation grew. "Alright, I’m trusting you," you said, your voice a little shaky with excitement.

"Good. Keep them closed."

You could hear the slight shuffle of movement, the sound of footsteps, and then a long silence. It was killing you not knowing what was happening. You felt a nervous laugh bubble up inside you. "Marshall, what the hell are you doing?"

But there was no response. Only the sound of people quietly whispering in the background. You felt a sudden shift in the air, a tension that you couldn’t quite place.

"Okay," Marshall's voice broke through, soft yet full of confidence. "Open them."

You hesitated for a second, unsure of what to expect. Slowly, you opened your eyes—and your breath hitched in your throat.

There he was, kneeling right in front of you. Marshall. Your Marshall. On one knee. And in his hand was the most beautiful ring you’d ever seen. Your heart immediately pounded in your chest, and your eyes stung with tears.

"Shit," you whispered, feeling the tears start to well up.

He laughed softly, the sound a mix of amusement and something deeper—something you couldn’t quite place yet.

"You know," he started, his voice growing serious, though there was still that familiar playful tone, "you’re the most annoying fucking bitch I’ve ever met."

You laughed through your tears, wiping your eyes quickly. "What?!"

"You are," he said with a smirk. "You drive me fucking crazy."

Your lips parted in shock, and you almost laughed, trying to push back the tears. "I—"

"But..." He paused for dramatic effect, his gaze never leaving yours. "You’re also the most smoking hot woman I’ve ever seen in my goddamn life. You’re beautiful as hell, and yeah, you’re an annoying bitch, but I don’t wanna spend another fucking day without you."

Your chest tightened as you fought back more tears. Marshall wasn’t exactly the type to spill his emotions, but when he did, it was always raw.

He took a deep breath, steadying himself as he continued. "You drain my fucking bank account, but I don’t care. I’d spend every fucking dime just to see that smile on your face." He paused, his hand shaking slightly as he held up the ring. "You’ve made my life better, and I’m ready to make you a fucking promise. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I’m asking you to be mine... forever."

Your eyes were brimming with tears now, and you struggled to find your voice. "Marshall, I—"

The crowd around you was now murmuring, a few people filming the whole moment with their phones, but you didn’t even care. It felt like it was just you and him, in that moment, the world fading into the background.

"You’ve been my fucking rock through all the bullshit, and I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you," he continued, his voice growing a little more intense. "I’m a fucking mess, but you’ve helped me put myself back together, piece by piece. So, yeah, I’m a stupid asshole sometimes. But I’ll be the best fucking man I can be... for you."

A single tear slipped down your cheek, and you wiped it away quickly, trying to steady your breath. "You’re not a mess," you whispered. "You’re everything."

Marshall gave you that trademark smirk of his. "So, will you marry me, you crazy ass woman?"

You paused, your heart racing, your mind spinning. Everything around you was fading—just you and him. You looked down at the beautiful ring in his hand, and then back up at him.

"Yes," you said, barely able to get the words out. "Yes, yes, yes!"

The room erupted into cheers as Marshall slid the ring onto your finger. You couldn’t believe it. You didn’t know what to say, so you just threw your arms around him, pulling him in for a kiss. It was rough, filled with passion and love, and you could feel the relief and joy flooding through him.

"I fucking love you," he muttered against your lips. "Don’t ever forget that."

You smiled through your tears, your heart full. "I won’t. I love you too."

-

Once you and Marshall got back to your place, the whole day felt like it was still buzzing through the air. The car ride home had been quiet, but it was a comfortable quiet, one that said more than words could. Marshall's hand had been on your thigh the entire drive, and every now and then, he’d glance at you with that knowing look that made your heart skip a beat.

You knew he was excited, not just about the day, but about the life he was promising you. And hell, you were excited too. Everything had been building up to this moment—this moment where he was finally yours, and you were his.

When you walked through the door, you didn’t even bother with small talk. You wanted to keep the night going in the best way possible. "I need to change," you said, already pulling your coat off and walking toward the bedroom. "Don’t follow me," you added with a teasing glance, knowing he’d be on your heels in an instant.

But this time, he listened.

You closed the bedroom door behind you and slid the lingerie you’d picked out at the mall earlier that day from the shopping bag. It was a black lace set, the kind that was sexy as hell but still had that mysterious, classy edge. You smirked to yourself as you undressed and slipped into it, checking yourself in the mirror. It was tight in all the right places, hugging your curves and accentuating your figure. You weren’t even going to lie, you felt fucking amazing.

You could hear Marshall out in the living room, probably pacing back and forth, anxious to see you. The anticipation was almost suffocating, but in a good way.

When you finally opened the bedroom door, his eyes immediately locked on you. He was sitting on the couch, leaning back with his elbows propped up on the arms, but when he saw you in that lingerie, he froze. His mouth parted in shock for a second, and his eyes traveled over every inch of you like he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.

"Goddamn, baby," he muttered under his breath. His voice was low, hoarse, like he was struggling to form the words. "You are a fucking masterpiece."

You walked toward him slowly, swaying your hips, loving the way his gaze followed every movement. "You like it?" you asked, your voice dripping with confidence, a little playful but still needy.

"Like it?" Marshall snorted, his lips curling into a smirk as he leaned forward. "Babe, I don’t just like it, I fucking love it. I can’t wait to fucking tear it off of you."

You laughed, stepping closer to him until you were standing between his legs. "You don’t have to wait much longer, Marshall."

His eyes burned into yours, and you could feel the heat rising between the two of you. He grabbed your hips and pulled you closer, his breath heavy against your neck. "I swear to God, you’re gonna be the death of me," he grumbled, his hands moving up to grip your back, pulling you even closer until there was barely any space left between your bodies.

"Yeah?" you teased, your voice soft as you let your fingers graze through his hair. "What are you gonna do about it?"

"Shit," he cursed, his hands slipping down to grab your ass, pulling you flush against him. You could feel how hard he was already, and you bit your lip, your heart racing. "You’re fucking mine," he growled. "God, I can’t wait to make you mine forever. I’m gonna marry you, you know that?"

You gasped a little, feeling the weight of his words settle deep inside you. You’d known it was coming, but hearing him say it, so raw and real, hit you harder than you expected.

"You keep saying that," you said, trying to hide the emotion that was creeping up on you. "You keep telling me how much you want to marry me."

"Because I fucking do," Marshall said, his voice filled with sincerity as he looked you dead in the eyes. "You’re it for me. I don’t want anyone else. I want you. I want to wake up next to you every fucking day for the rest of my life."

You felt your heart swell, your breath catching in your throat. It was rare for Marshall to get this vulnerable, but when he did, it made everything feel so much more real.

"You mean everything to me, baby," he continued, his voice soft but intense, "and I’m not going anywhere. I want to marry you and fucking spoil you. I wanna do all the shit I never thought I’d do, just to see you smile. You deserve all of it."

Your chest tightened with emotion, and you couldn’t help but let out a shaky breath. "I love you," you whispered, your hands trembling slightly as you slid them down to his chest.

"I fucking love you too," he murmured back, his lips finding yours in a heated kiss. "And when I’m done with you tonight, you’re gonna know exactly how much."

-

Extra:

Marshall’s hands roamed over your body, every touch sending sparks through you as you kissed each other harder. His lips trailed down your neck, his breath hot against your skin. When he pulled away, he looked at you, eyes dark with desire.

“You know,” he murmured, voice thick, “we should have kids. Yeah, seriously. You’d look fucking amazing pregnant.” He smirked, his hands moving down to your waist. “I can already picture it. Your tits getting all full of milk, your body getting even more plump. Shit, you’d be even sexier as a mother.”

You couldn’t even respond, your mind too clouded by desire. His words only made your pulse race faster, and you could barely focus on anything other than how badly you wanted him. Your body was already overwhelmed, and you couldn’t do anything but let him continue, caught in the heat of the moment.

[gremlingottoosilly]

I need more mafia koing sharing His wife with His friends it’s so hot but this time can we have a threesome🤭 -🐈‍⬛

Horangi rocks you on his cock, pushing as deep as possible - forcing his way in even as you beg him to stop and give you some time to rest. He is smaller than Konig, never breaking you in quite as much as your dearest husband, but you're tighter than usual today. Your walls are squeezing his cock for all its worth and he had to admit that even he has troubles with keeping himself from cumming too fast. You're perfect - your cries and pleas only make him slam into you harder, and it feels almost like you're teasing him. Your cunt is way too perfect to be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and he is almost ready to betray the boss for the possibility of fucking you like this every day. Key word - almost ready. Konig is here, after all, never missing an opportunity to fuck his dearest little wife into a sloppy and sobbing mess that has all of her brain cells fucked out by orgasm after orgasm. He knows there is no way he can fit into your lower holes right now - his cock is too big for you to take on most of the days and definitely too huge now. It's okay though - he can wait. He will wait. You're way too precious for him to break you so easily while he can just enjoy your throat squeezing his cock so nicely. Your lipstick is smeared all over, pretty red that you gushed so much about - Konig knows you hate accepting his gifts, always seeing blood dripping from each penny he gets, but you like expensive things too much. This, and the fact he is not scared of punishing you in case you're being too feisty. Krueger is the reason for your special tightness today - the man had just got a really expensive and important target, held for ransom for some dirty politician - and he deserves a reward in the form of fucking your ass until you're a dumb mess cluttering your words. Of course, Konig couldn't accept preferential treatment and got Horangi to fuck your pussy for being such a helper in ransom negotiations - and also as a helping hand in making you as dumb on their cocks as possible. You're already limp, clinging to kisses and pats on your head like a kitten, getting your brain fucked out of all three of your holes. It's hard to find a rhythm between three very different men - but they have a goal in mind, and you're far too precious to be broken. Don't worry, they will hydrate you after, your husband gently caressing your hair as you lay on Horangi's chest. His lips on your forehead in a rare show of intimacy - all while boss allows him to be a bit sappy. Krueger already cleans you up and fixes you some snacks - always getting in a serving position because he is not quite as open with his desire to cling to you like a man drowning. If you close your eyes, you can almost ignore their hushed conversations about drugs, guns and moving of a new target. If you shut your ears, you can almost pretend you don't see pointed glares Konig sends to his men as they become too gentle. You still belong only to him, after all.

[demonsslayersstuff]

Love Language JJK Men x Fem Reader

Description: Head Canons/ short drabbles on how the JJK men show their love to reader

Characters: Gojo, Nanami, Choso, Higuruma, and Geto

Warnings: Fluff, slightly suggestive content. Smut (Choso) Any other warnings will be labeled with each character

A/N: Hey guys I am sorta back. It is still a busy time for me, but I did want to get some writings out, so hopefully you will be treated with two writings this week. As always thanks for the support, hope you all have a good week!

Satoru Gojo:

This guy gives me physical touch and acts of service. As much as I wish that Gojo is quality time, realistically he is just too busy, so he makes up for it in others ways

When you all are together, his hands are on you constantly. Your hips, your ass, your boobs; his hands will be there. If Gojo has the time off to be with you, don’t expect to be going out much. He is too busy keeping you in his favorite place (i.e the bed)

When he can’t be around you physically he is going to be doing other things to make it known he cares about you. Maybe he makes you your favorite cup of coffee or tea in the morning before he leaves. Or maybe stops by a bakery to get you your favorite treat

Though his schedule is demanding, if Gojo loves you, he is going to make sure you feel his love

“Sato”, you murmur as his strong slender arms encircle your waist, forcing you back down into the bed. “Don’t leave”, he whines sleepily, fingers tightening on your hip bone. “I need to pee, I’ll be back in less than two minutes”, you say with a light chuckle. You hear a deep sigh from your partner before his grip relents. “Less than two minutes love”, Gojo grumbles. You make good on your word and zip in and out of the bathroom in under two minutes. The moment you slip back underneath the covers, he pulls you flush against him, his face nestling into the crook of your neck. “I missed you”, he moans, his hot breath fanning your collar bone as his hands freely roam all over your body. “I wasn’t gone that long” you chide him before giving him a soft peck. “Stay”, he pleads, half joking, half serious. With the way he had you pinned to the mattress, you knew you wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon. “I’ll stay as long as you want me Sato”, you tell him. He shifts his body, face now hovering above yours. “Always, I want you always”, Gojo mumbles before his lips capture yours, effectively ending the conversation for the time being.

Kento Nanami:

Hands down, Nanami is the type of guy to be all five types of the love languages. I’ve said it before and I will say it again, he is top husband material. That being said, I feel like he provides more quality time and words of affirmation than the others

If he is busy with work, expect good morning, afternoon, and sometimes good evening texts. He doesn’t do it in a possessive way, he simply wants to let you know that you are on his mind

Anytime he is away from work and you are not busy, you two will be together. Whether it’s watching a movie together, grocery shopping, or even doing separate things in the same room together

You are his number one priority, he is going to make sure that you feel cared for and loved

“Darling?”, you hear your partner call as the front door closes, indicating he was finally home from work. “In the kitchen”, you reply as you finish cleaning up the mess you had made to make dinner. You turn around just as Nanami walks in, pulling you into a warm embrace, “Hey there”, he murmurs, giving you a soft peck. “Hi”, you respond, “How was your work?”, you continue, pulling away from the embrace to check on the food. “Same as usual, do you have any plans this weekend?”, Nanami questions as he moves to sit down at the table. “As of right now no, why? You want to hangout?”, you question cheekily. You hear a tired chuckle fall from his lips, “Is it a crime to want to spend time with my future wife?”, he questions back, causing your cheeks to burn. “No”, you murmur before plating the food and sitting down. “Then it’s settled, you and me for the next forty-eight hours”, Nanami says with a smile. “I’d like that a lot”, you respond before an easy silence falls across the room, the both of you happy to be in each other’s presence.

Choso Kamo: (Smut: fingering, P in V)

This boy is big on physical touch and quality time. Obviously you both have lives to live, but if he has the opportunity to keep you tied up in bed, that’s where you are going to be

I have a feeling that Choso needs to be touching you at all times when the two of you are around each other. Whether it’s holding your hand, or waist, his hands will be on you nearly 24/7. He is a bit possessive, so expect him touching you a lot

When he is not at work, he’s with you. While Choso is not going to be the type of guy to limit your time with your friends and what not, he does want/ expects to be your priority when both of you are free

He is not use to “human” relationships, however Choso seems to be very sensitive and caring towards the people he loves. That being said, expect to always be his number one priority, you will be cared for by this man

“Baby”, you moan as his hips rut up into yours. “I need to get going, I told the others I’d be there by five”, you managed to huff out as Choso’s lips moved to your neck, littering it with wet kisses. “Thirty more minutes”, he moans as he grinds against you again. At this point, you weren’t sure you were going to make it, especially when you felt his harden member rub against your clothed core at just the right angle. “Cho-“, you start, but are quickly cut off with quick removal of your underwear, his fingers easily slipping inside of you. “Fuck, Cho”, you gasp as he quickly adds a second finger. “Let me have you”, he growls, his dark eyes locking onto yours. “Baby I made a promise”, you remind him. “Thirty minutes and I’ll pay for the dinner”, Choso says removing his fingers, licking them clean. “Okay, but let me make a quick call”, you start. Choso is quick to yank out his thick member, pumping himself for a moment before lining himself up to your entrance. “No need, I messaged them about ten minutes ago”, he says gruffly before sinking into your tight hole. You don’t respond, brain already foggy with the feel of his dick inside of you. Needless to say, you were more than thirty minuets late.

Hiromi Higuruma:

This sexy lawyer turned Jujustu sorcerer gives me acts of service/ gift giving vibes. Similar to Nanami I could see him really hitting all five of the love languages, but acts of service would definitely be number one for him

He is busy with his work, but that is not going to stop him from taking care of you. I could see him doing things like switching over the load of laundry when he gets home late or doing an online grocery order for you when you are busy yourself

Higuruma strikes me as the guy to bring you a small gift whenever he wins a case. It could be flowers or your favorite dessert, whatever it is, its his way of saying thank you for putting up with my long hours

Though the two of you might not be able to spend as much time together as you want, Higuruma is willing to do anything and everything for the person he loves.

The ringing of the doorbell is what brings you back to reality. You quickly save your work before moving to open the door. “Please sign here Ma’am”, the delivery man tells you as you take in the medium sized box he was holding. With a quick signature and “Have a nice day”, the door was quickly closed as your curiosity grew. Just then your phone range and you knew who it was without looking at your caller ID. “Hiro, what have you sent me?”, you ask with laugh as the line connects. “Nothing too crazy, just wanted my beautiful wife to know that she is loved”, he tells you. “Darling”, you say, tone soft. You put the phone on speaker as you move to open the box, revealing a carefully packaged, but stunning black dress. “Hiro”, you gasp. “You like it? I had it made just for you. I’ll be home in two hours and I expect it to be on”, he says. “For what purpose?’, you question, eyes still overlooking the garment. “You’ll find out, see you soon love”, Higuruma says before the line disconnects. You knew with his tone that you were in for a long night.

Geto Suguru:

For some reason he gives me words of affirmation and quality time vibes. I really see him as the the type of guy to take a day off of “work” just to spend the day with you

Similar to Nanami, expect little check in messages throughout the day. He understands that you might be busy with work, but he wants you to know that you are on his mind

When he has free time, he is spending it with you. He does try to have a healthy balance, but truth be told, Geto would rather be by your side 24/7, so if he has the option, he’s choosing you over his friends

While Geto might not be big on the other love languages, he will make it know through his words that he loves you. With him, you’ll never feel unsure about his feelings because he will tell you straight up

“There you are”, Geto says as he softly pads into the living room. “When I woke up, you weren’t there” he continues as he moves to sit down next you. “Sorry darling, I had some work I needed to finish up and I did not want to disturb you”, you respond, taking the time to give him a soft smile, pausing your work briefly. “No worries, I understand, I’m happy to just be here with you”, Geto tells you. “Give me five more minuets and then I promise I’ll be all yours”, you say before turning your focus back to your work. “Take your time, I’ll be here”, he responds, reaching to grab a book from the shelf behind the couch. A comfortable silence falls between the two of you, both content with doing your own thing, knowing the other was close by.

A/N: Anyone notice the little snippet for the upcoming Higuruma fic ;)

[dokidokidraft]

MHA boys HC

Hello lovelies! This is my first post, I hope you enjoy! includes: Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugo, Shoto todoroki

(more next time)

Does include swearing ;-; (because it’s Katsuki)

~Izuku Midoriya~

-ANYTHING will get this man flustered. Even if you wave at him, his face is already red, and as soon as you talk to him, he’s a stuttering mess

-he eventually warms up to you though. He’ll still get flustered but he will at least be able to speak now

-play with his hair. Please.

-hold on to his arm instead of his hand. He loves it

-he’s really sensitive, so try not to be too mean (^_^)

-if you kiss his freckles (or anywhere on his face, just especially freckles) he will blush like crazy (obvi) and the immediately pull you in for a hug. Now you won’t be able to go anywhere until he gives you all the love in the world

-style his hair. Those curls just need to be taken care of T~T

-def doesn’t do enough self care. Just help him out for me, alright? I’m talking face masks, top coat for his nails (PLZ- this man’s hands 😣), skincare, R+R

-speaking of R+R, his favourite way to relax is Netflix and chill, with his head in your lap and you playing with his hair (never going to stop with his hair I js love it sm)

-will literally throw himself out of the car just to open the door for you. Probably has hurt himself a few times from this

-super insecure about his scars!!! Poor baby. The first time you traced his scars, he cried.

-his hands are so rough! (In a good way obvi) like, they feel like sandpaper most of the time, and he’s really insecure about those too >_< -probably has written so much about your quirk that it takes up a whole notebook! You’re just so much more interesting to him than anyone else. Also has other notebooks filled with the things you like/dislike. Literally anything you told him about yourself is written down somewhere

-his laugh is the most heavenly thing. It’s so sweet and genuine. Same with his smile :)

~Katsuki Bakugo~

-this man is so angry all the time, but if you get close enough to him (takes a long time plz be patient) he has such a soft spot for you!!!

-literally the best cook in existence

-being together for dinner with him looks like him teaching you a new recipe, and you guys cooking together. Still yells a lot at you tho (we love him for it)

-hugs from behind ✨ (iykyk)

-brags about you to the bakusquad all the time. “did you see y/n on the battle field!?!? She totally smoked your ass dunceface!”

-swears a lot while talking to you about his day. “And then the fucking lady decided to steal that guys shitty bag! It wasn’t even a nice bag, it looked like it came out of the motherfucking apocalypse!”

-shows his love through actions. Words are hard for him (see the one above)

-makes fun of you all the time

-if he’s about to yell and he knows you’re sensitive, he’ll cover your ears before he yells (this one isn’t my hc, just something I’ve seen a lot)

-he’s a bit of a brat. He just likes seeing you pissed off. Thinks it’s adorable

-very affectionate when you’re alone. Other than that, PDA isn’t very good…maybe he’ll hold your hand or wrap is his arm around your waist so people know to back off, but he gets embarrassed easily.

-shows off around you so much. As soon as you show up to one of his arena fights (different headcanon, might elaborate later) he immediately wins.. you just give him the right motivation with you watching

-he hates when you play with his hair, but he LOVES to touch yours. If it’s long enough, he’ll braid it. Or if it’s not he’ll give you little scalp massages 😮‍💨

-bullies your bullies. He knows you can handle yourself, but you gotta use your scary boyfriend privileges sometime

~Shoto todoroki~

-if you’re too cold or too hot, he’ll use his quirk to help with that.

-also, it’s canon that he’s usually very cold himself, but can’t regulate his fire well enough to be a good temperature so he deals with it. So cuddles are a must to keep him warm

-he’s so insecure about it his scar, he thinks it makes him ugly and unlovable (canon) so he needs constant reassurance

-poor bae gets night terrors

-takes you to all the new restaurants in town. You guys have been every single one at least once

-make homemade (cold) soba for him or else *_*

-not that it matters to him, but Endeavor does not approve of him dating, so be prepared for arguments. You guys will win in the end though

-so sassy. Loves to back talk

-walks together late at night 😌💅

-not very talkative, he’d rather listen to you ramble. Literally the opposite of izuku in that way

-takes all your jokes way too seriously. You have to explain everything, but after that he’ll laugh with you about it

-SO oblivious. If you gave him a confession note, he’ll ask if you wanted him to proofread it. Or if you said it to his face, he’d be frozen and then ask “that sounds good, is it a line for a play? I didn’t know you did theatre…”

-rich as hell, takes you shopping and you’re not allowed to pay for anything. Treats you with endeavors credit card 👌

-literally best fashion sense. I’m talking flannels, baggy sweaters with cuffed sleeves, those cargo shorts that have the massive pockets.

Thanks for reading! I hope you guys liked them (>~<)

[starshideurfics]

Ring my bell, part 6

steddie, omegaverse, flagging/signaling culture, there’s plot now, in the smut, mdni 🔞

Part 5

Steve wakes to the sound of the phone ringing. The sky is still pre-dawn purple, and Eddie’s arms are tight around his waist. He hears Wayne shuffle to the phone and answer with a tired, “Munson residence.” Barely two seconds pass before he continues, sounding much more awake, “Kid, slow down. Eddie’s sleeping, s’early. — Yeah, I’ll get him.”

The receiver taps as it’s set down on the counter, and Wayne doesn’t bother keeping his steps quiet as he heads down the hall and pokes his head into the room. “Ed, get up. Got one of your friends on the phone and he’s barely gettin’ a word out that I can follow.”

“Be there in a second,” Eddie grumbles, squeezing around Steve’s waist. “Just gotta grab pants.”

“Morning, Steve,” Wayne adds as he retreats.

“Morning!” Steve calls back, flushing hot. Wayne had Eddie invite him for dinner back in January, told him the only ground rules were no sleepovers on school nights, and practically welcomed him to the family. Doesn’t mean Steve isn’t embarrassed to be caught naked in bed with his boyfriend.

Eddie pushes himself out of bed, gropes around for a pair of ratty sweats that he tugs over his pasty ass, and slouches out to the kitchen. “Yello!” Pause. “Lucas, hey, slow down, dude.” Pause. “What the fuck? Are you okay? Shit, no—Are you safe?” Long pause. “Okay, thanks for the heads up. Do you need someone to come get you? Are your parents gonna freak?” Pause. “Okay, I’ll be right there.”

He jogs back to his room, plucks a shirt from the “still good” clothing pile, and struggles to dress quickly.

“What’s going on?” Steve mumbles, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Something fucking bad happened, Stevie. Lucas is freaking and Chrissy Cunningham’s dead.” He bites his quavering lip.

“What the fuck?”

“I *sold* to her yesterday, Steve. She was good at hiding it, but she was terrified of something. And Lucas sounded real messed up on the phone.”

Steve swings his legs over the edge of the bed and searches for his clothes. “I’m coming with you.”

“Puppy…”

“Lucas has seen enough bad shit as it is. I’m coming to check on him.”

“And yet you claim you didn’t birth these kids.”

Steve tugs his henley back over his head, and grabs Eddie’s hand. “Now you’re just wasting time.” As usual, he’s the one taking charge and he grabs his keys. “We’re taking my car, you drive like a maniac.”

“Puppy! I’m not that bad!”

“And we’ll look fucking suspicious showing up in your van.”

“…Yeah, okay.”

Steve doesn’t bother saying Eddie is jittery as all hell, that he knows he wouldn’t pay enough attention to the road. They just say bye to Wayne and hurry out to the Bimmer.

“The basketball team started partying out at Benny’s old place when Hargrove moved here… I’m guessing that’s where we’re going?”

Eddie nods, suddenly quiet. As soon as Steve starts driving, Eddie starts shaking his knee so hard that Steve needs him to stop—he’s bouncing too much in his peripheral vision. His right hand shoots out and grabs Eddie’s thigh, squeezing twice. “Ed, hey. We’re gonna get Lucas and get out of there. That’s it.”

“It’s not that… There’s more—we both know Lucas would call you in an emergency over me. But I wasn’t the backup. He called because my phone number is still written on Chrissy’s hand.”

“Eddie…”

“She wanted something stronger than weed! I figured I’d give her some options later! I didn’t think whatever she was scared of would leave her d—” He chokes in the word. “Steve, I hate this.”

“I know, Puppy. Me too.” Steve lifts his hand, holds it palm-up, and Eddie takes it, lacing their fingers together.

When they pull up to Benny’s there are cop cars everywhere, blocking in the cars of the basketball team. Most of the guys are standing around or sitting in the grass, all with the same haunted look, but Lucas is talking to Chief Powell.

Steve parks, and he and Eddie get out together, hands finding each other again.

“I told you,” Lucas says as they approach, his back to them, “There was no screaming. I was one room over and I didn’t hear anything.”

“But you did recognize the phone number written on her hand?”

“Yeah, I noticed it the night before, because it’s my friend’s number.”

“Oh? And who would that friend be?”

Eddie lifts his hand in a quick wave. “That’d be me, Chief. Chrissy loaned me her History notes, told her to call me when she needed ‘em back.”

“Munson. You staying out of trouble?”

“Trying to.”

“And where were you last night?”

“At home, with my boyfriend.” He lifts Steve’s hand, showing their laced fingers and drawing attention to him.

Lucas’s eyes bug out.

Powell shrugs. “We’ll call if we’ve got any more questions.”

[watarfallar]

Desert Duo treats because it's a week until Christmas

Grian: I’m going to get so much done today. Scar: I’ll hold you to that. *8 hours later* Scar: So how much did you get done? Grian: One thing. Scar: Well, that’s one more than usual.

Scar: So my therapist was talking to me and she said that I really just need to break down my walls and let people in. Scar: So I’ve decided to break the fourth wall. Scar: *looks at camera* Hi there. I use humor as a coping mechanism.

Scar: Hey, are you alright with swearing? Asking for a friend. Grian: Yeah? Scar: Bitch.

Grian: *Gives a bouquet to Scar* Scar: You know I'm allergic. Grian: That's the point.

Grian: Is this mistletoe? Scar: Uh, no, no, that is basil. Grian: Too bad cause if it was mistletoe I was gonna kiss you. Scar: Yeah, no, it’s still basil.

Grian: What have I done wrong?! Scar: Everything. For your entire life.

Scar: If it’s any consolation, they got me here on a very misleading text message. Grian: Technically, you are about to be screwed in the biology room.

Scar: What is wrong with you? Grian: Many, many things… Grian: And most of them are your fucking fault.

Scar: Live fast, die young, leave behind a pretty corpse! That’s what I always say! Grian: You should say something else.

Grian: My back hurts. Scar, walking into the room: Take the spine out.

Scar: Everything will be ok. You can not stop it. Scar: Everything will be fine. You have no choice. Grian: What the fuck kind of pep talk is that? Scar: Ominous positivity.

Grian: Scar, what did you just do!? Scar: I took your advice. I stopped running from the problem and I tackled it head on. Grian: I meant try emotional honesty, not murder!!

Scar: I’ve become a bread crumb dealer to four crows at the lake. They pay me with a bit of everything. Like shiny things, fabric, or pens. But recently they paid me with a 20 dollar bill they found somewhere. So I decided to buy them some more expensive bread. They loved it. So they understand what to do. Give me money. I’ve probably racked up about 200 dollars at this point. Is it morally wrong though, I mean. They’re the ones who steal the money from others. Or perhaps they just have a big pile laying somewhere. Should I keep on doing this? Grian: You sound like the start of a Batman villain.

Scar: Detective! The man belonged to some kind of cult that worshipped a divine forest creature with antlers and that’s how he met his end. Grian: Dear God! Scar: Yeah! Exactly!

Grian: You've got to act tough, Scar! Show 'em you can't be pushed around! Show 'em they can't mess with you! Scar: Right. Yes. Tough. Got it. Scar, standing up on their stool and slamming their hands down on the bar: I'LL TAKE A CHOCOLATE MILK.

Grian: Fight me! Scar: gets on one knee and pulls out a ring Scar: Fight me for the rest of our lives.

Grian: Don’t preach to me about romance, Scar. I had a three-way in a hot-air balloon.

Scar: What’s sexting? Grian: I'm not having this conversation with you.

Grian: If I ever had a child, I imagine they would be a lot like you. Scar: Aww, thanks— Grian: Which is probably why I’ve never reproduced.

Scar: What’s your greatest weakness? Grian: Interpreting the semantics of a question, but ignoring the pragmatics. Scar: Could you give an example? Grian: Yes, I could.

Scar: Okay, but what if we went to dinner not as friends this time? Grian: AS ENEMIES?! Scar:

Scar: I desire moisture. Grian: Please just say "I want water" like a normal person.

Scar: Babe, you're so funny! Grian: We have 1492 days until your tragic premature death. You will break my trust three times before that happens, but I forgive you. Scar: Awwww, that's sweet of you!

Grian: I didn’t want to do it, no one else wanted to do it, so I made Scar do it!

Scar: You got a date yet Grian? Grian: No… Scar: Well you do now! Get your ass up and hold my hand!

Grian: Dammit, you ruin everything! Scar: You're welcome.

Scar: They called me the B-word. Grian: Motherfucker doesn’t start with ‘b’.

Scar, talking about Grian: WHAT THE FUCK I WAS ARGUING WITH HIM AND I SAID “OOH YOU WANNA KISS ME SO BAD” AND GUESS WHAT? HE DID. HE KISSED ME. WHAT THE FUCK WHAT DO I DO.

[paradiseismine]

His Favorite - Miles Fairchild x reader

Pairing: Miles Fairchild (The Turning) x f!reader

Warnings: all smut, degradation, sort of free use (?), spanking, imbalanced power dynamics. This is much more intense than the stuff I usually write lol

Summary: our boy Miles is used to always getting exactly what he wants.

It had been a few weeks since you started working at the manor. You were still a minor, nearly 18, but had no family and had to make ends meet somehow. So, when you saw the opportunity to work as a young maid in a manor, granted to live and eat there for free, you took it without any further thoughts.

The teenage boy who lived there, Miles, caught your eye the very first time you saw him. There was something about his petulance, his wit and his dark eyes that really got your panties wet. He took an interest in you, and soon enough, you realized that doing him sexual favors got you in a much better position than not - plus, you also had the hots for him.

Miles was tough on the outside, but whenever Kate or any other person from the manor’s staff tried to get in your way or tease you, Miles would practically JUMP at them. You were sacred to him and everyone knew that. You could get away with half-assing your work, showing up late or refusing to do things. Nobody else in there could do that, so of course, they all hated you.

It was a Tuesday afternoon. The little girl, Flora, was playing in the gardens of the manor with her babysitter, and you were in the kitchen, washing the dishes. Miles was sitting on the kitchen table, toying with a rubber band, and you tried your best to pay him no attention at all. In a clumsy attempt to wash another plate, you ended up dropping it inside the sink, causing it to break.

Miles let out a chuckle.

- It’s hard to conciliate your little whoreish brain with doing your chores, isn’t it? All you can think about is getting your pussy fucked, right?

You chuckled at him, trying your best to clean the mess as fast as you could. The other maids would end up getting blamed for the broken plate, so you wanted to hide the evidence. But the way his voice reverberated in your ears simply wouldn’t let you work in peace. Not a minute after, you dropped another plate into the sink - to no surprise, it also broke in half. Great.

- Why are you so stupid today, huh? - Miles asked, rolling his eyes as he approached you, then grabbing the hair at your nape in a possessive way. - You’re lacking some cum inside your cunt, aren’t you, dumb slut? I bet you’d love to be filled to the brim with some warm cum, wouldn’t you?

You could barely talk back.

- Y-yes sir, I’d love that very much - you nearly whispered, your upper thighs sticking to each other already. Nothing made you hornier than tending to that preppy manor boy.

He made your knees weak and he knew it. That cocky grin in his face gave it all away.

- I knew you would - he bent you over the sink and lifted up your skirt in a swift movement, his fingers lightly lowering your panties down to your knees. - Your ass looks so pale… I think it could use some spanking, couldn’t it? It would look much better with a reddish color to it…

- Yes, sir, please - you pleaded, your cunt visibly slick with arousal.

You could hear Miles lightly chuckle before laying his hand harshly on your ass, spanking it. He would alternate between your butt cheeks, but without fail, all of your ass would be red and even a bit purple after he was done.

- There - he said, his voice lower than before. You could tell how hard he was just by the way he was talking. - Nice and spanked, my little whorelet.

- Thank you sir - you moaned, softly.

- You’re welcome - he replied, his tone still different than before - Now, since you can’t bring yourself to even wash the dishes properly, I think I could use you for my own entertainment.

- W-what do you mean, sir?

- I mean, I think my cock needs some good sucking… Get on your knees, you dumb slut - he ordered.

You quickly obeyed, kneeling in front of him as he sat in one of the kitchen chairs. You lowered his pants and took his cock in your mouth hungrily, lapping up the precum from his tip and deep throating his length as much as you could.

- Yes - he moaned, grabbing a fistful of your hair. - Just like that… Such a slutty little maid, aren’t you? Did you always go around sucking your masters’s dicks like that?

You moaned in response, his cock still deep down your throat. Miles tightened his grip on your hair and forced you to take him even deeper. He was so huge, you couldn’t believe it. Such a lanky pale boy, and hung like a horse. After another 20 minutes of hungrily sucking his dick, your jaw was nearly numb, when Miles suddenly shifted in the chair.

- Get up and spread your legs - Miles ordered, firmly, letting go of your hair. - I want to fill up your cunt with my cum.

- Finally - you moaned, bending over the sink and spreading your legs. - Cum inside my whorelet pussy, sir. Make it yours, put me in my place…

Miles shoved his cock in your dripping wet pussy all at once, immediately releasing hot ropes of his cum in your insides. You could feel the warmth from his seed seeping inside you, and you orgasmed solely from that feeling, your cunt clenching uncontrollably around Miles’ cock.

- Ah - he moaned, still releasing his cum inside you. It was so much cum, it would drip out immediately, you couldn’t possibly hold that much inside you. - Yes, milk my dick just like that, suck all my cum inside that worthless cunt of yours.

- Yes, sir, please give me all of your cum - you moaned, your knees weak.

After he was done, he put his pants back on and left the kitchen as if nothing had happened.

The other maids would come in a few minutes later and see Miles’ cum dripping down your legs. They were jealous, you knew that. They got scolded by him everyday, and so did you, but you were different. You pussy was the only one he’d cum in. You were the only one in the manor staff he’d protect and defend when needed. You were his favorite.

-

Love note from Nina: part 2 here.

[dmercer91]

since mr.john marino went to harvard

all i can think of is him being with another harvard graduate, who put her degree into some complications field

and he brings her around the rink to meet the guys and they’re like

“hot and smart😮”

developing this into mr john marino claiming that he’s bringing a friend around because she doesn’t want people to pry into her life and she is very very private and so cue every non taken devil frothing at the mouth

and suddenly your close friend johnny is grabbing your ass kissing you right where everyone is watching

and never in your entire life had you been at a loss for words but now you’re just like.. oh my

sounds complicated, jm6

john had never needed to worry about other guys- he knew that. you’d never indulge and you were usually too much of a homebody to be subjected to flirting regardless

so he didn’t really see a problem with you asking to be introduced to the team as his close friend. you didn’t like for people to know about personal things immediately upon meeting.

you didn’t like the opportunity it gave for meddling, and not to say you didn’t trust johnnys friends- but hockey boys were never really the greatest at minding themselves or avoiding conflict

you’d worn sweatpants and a tank top- putting little to no effort into your looks knowing that you and john were meant to be getting bunch after practice

your hair wasn’t straightened, you were wearing your glasses rather than your contacts, and in your personal opinion, you looked a mess

you usually looked pretty professional- being a law student and nearing the beginning of your career meaning you needed to look proper. your current look was not that.

you walked into the arena with a glum look, trailing behind john who was occasionally stopped to greet some staff.

you made it to the dressing room where most of the guys had just been taping new sticks, some missing and some sharpening their skates in a different room you could see from where you were standing.

“s’ this your friend you were talking about, johnny?” a boy with fluffy hair came over from behind, smiling down at you and showing off his missing tooth

“yeah. ba- y/n, this is dawson. he’s.. usually normal,” you gave your boyfriend a look at his close call, turning to dawson and waving, a small smile on your lips

he returned the favour and then furrowed his eyebrows at whatever was behind you, so both you and john turned

“by usually he means never. dawson is never normal,” three guys emerged from the dressing room, the shortest of them the one who’d spoken out

john nodded sideways as a confirmation of his statement, then looked down at you.

“this is jack, his little brother luke, and that’s nico,” he pointed at each player as he stated their names, and nico smiled softly, eyeing you once

jack took the liberty of openly eye fucking you- and luke was clearly trying to be subtle, or at least more subtle than his captain and his brother, but his cheeks were flushed and he only put his hand up shyly as a greeting

“johnny said you were in law?” nico asked, his accent taking you by surprise a little

“yeah, we actually met at harvard. took an elective together and he was unsalvageable in the subject, so he asked me for help,” you shrugged

it wasn’t technically a lie- you’d only let out the minor detail that he’d initially went up to you to ask you out and you told him you’d only agree if he got a b or higher on the next paper

and then the part where he asked for help writing the paper and got to see you strip another piece of clothing after each body paragraph he’d written

“is law really difficult?” dawson asked, sounding genuinely intrigued with his head tilted in curiosity and his eyes happy

he clearly hadn’t noticed that the rest of the group was not actually intending to talk about law- but you were glad for it.

before you could answer, jack beat you to it.

“it sounds complicated. maybe you could use a little distraction, sometime?” he smirked and you raised an eyebrow. he was a lot bolder than you’d been anticipating.

you looked at johnny who’s tongue was poking his cheek, his eyes laser focused on the ground. you assumed he was trying not to implode, and you were kinda stuck on what to do

“your friends are bold, johnny,” you stated, turning to look at dawson who’s eyes were a little wide

“you’re telling me,” john grumbled, nodding towards the stands “take a seat, if you want. gotta start getting dressed,” you nodded and wandered off, waving to the five of them and trying to make your exit as quickly is possible.

after the practice was over, you’d made your way back over to the dressing room and waited for johnny to walk out.

nico had made his way out first, eyeing you before making his way over.

“you’re dating, aren’t you?” you furrowed your eyebrows, trying to feign innocence

“what do you mean? johnny?” nico grinned, the speed at which you were talking calling you out on your lie

“sorry about jack, he’s.. well, he’s definitely jack,” you giggled, nodding in agreement and looking over at the door as john came out

his eyes went back and forth between you and his captain, and he eventually came towards you and stood as close as humanly possible

“hi, baby,” you murmured, keeping quiet so only nico would hear and leaning your head onto johns shoulder

he gave you and alarmed look and you shook your head. “your captain is very perceptive,” you stated, and john smiled a little.

“cant say the same for his alt,” he mumbled under his breath and you glared at him playfully. he couldn’t really hold it against jack when nobody had known you were his

jack came off strong, but he had no ill intentions.

and, speak of the devil- he’d come out and beelined right for the little trio you’d been standing in.

before he could get over- john looked down at you.

“y/n. do you love me?” you furrowed your eyebrows, nodding

“yeah? wha-“ you were cut off by his lips on yours, one hand grabbing your waist and the other gripping your ass, your body pressed close to his

you let him- his kisses getting deeper and deeper until he tried to poke his tongue into your mouth and you pulled away, his hands staying put

“mh. jesus, johnny,” you blushed, wiping your lips that were red and starting to get swollen

you didn’t really know what else to say- flustered and a little too affected by his possessiveness for your liking

“uh. sorry, man. and sorry, y/n, for-” jack gestured vaguely, chuckling breathily, eyes a little wide at the display he’d just witnessed

“it’s fine. you didn’t know,” you reassured.

“what she said. don’t let it happen again,” johnny warned, grip falling from your ass but sprawling across your lower back, keeping you close to him

[sourbites]

What Remains After Fury

You knew Metallica, and everyone involved, were stressed for weeks building up to the Seattle event. It's been built up in everyone's minds to be this huge thing, and it's honestly really freaking James out. He's been restless, and sleepless, and his temper is more brittle than ever. Which has rubbed off on the others. Lars and James are fighting like never before, Jason's everyone's punching bag, and Kirk can't keep them calm and together forever. With that awesome environment, everyone on the team has been just as brooding, skulking around the venue at rehearsal as if they're being forced to show up.

That's why you're so surprised when you see James, a giddy James, floating around backstage when he's got an encore to show up for in a dozen minutes or so. You know it's James, even with his back to you. You'd recognise him off the beating of your own heart if you had to.

Gently, mindful of his recent mood, you remind him. "Don't forget your encore, James." You say coolly, masking the schoolgirlish sigh you want to swoon out at the sight of him.

Beer in hand (as usual), he turns to you: "I won't. Just wanted to come see you. How you doin', darlin'? Workin' hard?"

It's funny how he almost sounds southern, despite living in California for most of his life. That bluesy purr of his voice does nothing to cauterise the red-hot lust spilling out of you as if you have a bleeding head wound. It certainly feels that way sometimes, as if your mind fogs. Grinning, James raises his brows at you expectantly. Oh fuck, he's expecting an answer.

You swallow dryly, almost stupefied. "Shut up, that's not nearly as smooth as you think it is."

He laughs, his shoulders shaking subtly as the air enters and exits his chest. A thick bicep curls around the top of your shoulders, bringing you to his side for a quick hug. His skin is warm, molten hot — a little clammy from performing for at least two hours by now.

"I'll take your word for it," He hums, slowly slipping his hand down low, low, low. Dutifully following the surface of your back, the dips of your spine, until he reaches the small of your back. Thick fingers grope into your shirt, rounding out around the swell of your hips.

There's a heavy pause for a moment or two. His hair swooshes around as he looks around backstage. Most other crew members are tuning stuff and messing around with lights. AKA: doing what you should also be doing.

"Fuck it," You hear him murmur lowly. "You wanna take your break right now?" The question is directed at you.

You wring your hands in excited nervousness, despite finding yourself nodding. "We shouldn't take too long, though." You remind. The clock's still ticking, and there's a mass of fans preparing for an encore, crowding around the stage restlessly.

"Don't you fuckin' worry about that," James' hand is already rushing you into some emptied-out storage room, hot on your heels himself. 

The door to the little room slots closed, the lock following soon after. The four walls are bare save for a shelf where James is already surrendering his bottle of half-savoured beer. The light is an old, warm-toned fluorescent that flickers painfully every few seconds— as if it's sighing in exhaustion.

With both of his hands aching with idleness, James busies himself by slipping his warm, big palms over your figure, drawing you in with both his index fingers hooked around the belt loops of your skirt. You walk the three steps towards him until your frame bumps into his. Greedily, his hands cup your waist, gathering the material of your shirt into fists. His hot mouth is on yours, devouring your every breath. Your skin rasps against his moustache, a cool nose nudging into his. Just to make matters worse and get you further under his spell, he grazes his teeth against your lower lip, heavy-handedly groping your ass through your skirt.

You don't have time for the slowness, and James doesn't have the sobriety for the tenderness. Skirts are bunched up around the waist, and fly zippers are hatefully yanked down. Tongues swipe over lips, and corners of mouths, getting tasted indulgently. His tongue's in your mouth, and you react on instinct, sucking around it as your palms slip under his shirt, venturing up, and raking your nails back down. He shudders, patting you on the ass in his approval. You smile inwardly, nipping at his neck before you sink to your knees. It's a Pavlovian reaction, to kneel around James' thighs or at his boots.

With prying hands, you manage to tug down his boxers enough. His cock is already heavy and hard, springing up and smacking into his abdomen. Wrapping a hand around his base to secure him, you lean in, your soft breath hot against his skin. You can see the chills on James' arm before he reaches to you, threading thick ringed fingers through your hair reverently. You mouth at his head for a few moments, your lips sliding over his ever-wettening tip. With a few kisses, you sink further onto him. Your tongue flutters around his shaft, tracing the art of the vein that runs along the underside of his impressively thick cock.

James hisses once your drooling lips take him into your mouth. Precum beads a pearly, translucent shine around his peachy-skinned tip. The bluntness of his short fingernails scrape along your scalp, fisting your hair at the crown of your head. You can feel his pelvis and hips flinching. He's holding back. You try to ease him into the hollow of your throat, knowing that eases him.

"Nah, sweetheart. No time for that." James sighs, before practically scalping you with how much force he uses to yank you off him. You follow, jerked backwards with a throaty gasp.

He cups your cheek, stroking down your messy hair. "Later, alright?" He promises, grinning again.

You're guided to stand up, your back firmly pressed into the wall. His breath mingles with yours, and you can almost taste the deeply malted beer on his breath. Fuck, he makes you dizzy. James cups your thigh, steering it around his hip. With his other hand, he gathers your panties and ushers them to the side.

You find your place in the crook of his neck, sighing as he glides his now glistening cock over your wettened slit. In a dull, ache, tingle, James bullies his way into you, his fingers splayed and gripping onto where your hip meets your thigh in vehemence. He bumps against your cervix, his hips jutted forward as if he wants it to bruise you. Shuddering, your breath stops with every time you meet.

Golden, shining locks are swept to the side as you sink your teeth into James' flesh, tongue swiping over the slab of meat that connects his neck to his broad shoulders. You can almost feel his rock-hard cock in the pit of your lungs each time you ambitiously try to breathe. God, he's a monster.

Heated limbs wrap around heated limbs as he carves his hips into yours as if he's a worshiper of some deity, and you, his worshipee. A cry is forced out of you as James withdraws himself, only to pour into you, burning your bruise-tender skin as he goes. He stumbles faster and faster into you, smothering a palm to your mouth to muffle the sounds of your noises. As if that makes anything more subtle. The room is full of heavy breaths, skin punching into skin, and the obscenely vulgar sounds of slicked arousal drooling and bubbling from your puffy cunt with each schlick and schlock of James' thrusts. But sure, you need to keep your noise down.

Tears prickle at your waterline. Each shaky inhale is gutted out of you, your moans stuttering every time you're fucked into the wall.

"Shh, attagirl. Keep quiet f'me," James rasps out, grazing his teeth into the shell of your ear for a moment, dipping further into your warm bubble of space. Furiously charmed, you lean into him; maybe to take some weight off of your one leg that's not wrapped firmly around his waist.

James' hips are snapping into yours, bucking and pressing as if he intends to flatten you. You feel malleable anyway: like hot clay, a pile of mush that's bolstered up with every nasty hurl of his aggressively penetrating cock.

As if you weren't already close to going into cardiac arrest, you can hear the winding corridors quickly fill with hustling and bustling. The encore must be close. And James is missing (or busy, is a better term for it). And the man in question doesn't even seem to notice. His chest rumbles with a deep, rich moan. He bows his head down, caressing the base of your neck with an open mouth. Your pulse is thrumming. Your heart is thumping against your ribcage. You're not sure what will remain of you after James' fury.

"C'mon, sweetheart," He coaxes between smoky gasps of breath. "I know you're close." He goads. You can feel his smirk against your skin.

His calloused fingertips sweep up your throat, cupping your cheek. Uncharacteristically tenderly, he plants a kiss to the corner of your mouth. You grip him, any part of him you can manage, in a blind panic. His hair, his shirt, bicep, forearm, shoulder. Anything and everything that will help anchor you to reality as the sheer consciousness is viciously and thoroughly fucked out of you. Brain melting and going straight to that wild, fluttery pit in your stomach that thirsts to boil over.

You throw your head back against the wall, otherwise limp with jellified limbs if not for James being your pillar. Sensing what you're about to do, he cements his hand to your mouth again, forcing you to swallow the lewd moan that's heavy on your sex-liquored tongue.

"Jesus Christ," James marvels at you, his gaze falling to watch your soaked cunt withstand every vicious stroke of his cock into the channel of your insides. You squeeze your eyes shut as James' rhythm falls faster in a never-ending inward thrust. The pad of his thumb finds your swollen clit, and gives it a few overzealous swipes. Your body replies with a wobble. Then the squelch of cum as your aching hole gushes around him, pulsing and milking his cock to follow in your actions and just let go.

Your head swings back and forth between keeping James here for a little while longer and finishing him off to send him back onstage. If you concentrate hard, you can hear Lars' yells for James sandwiched between panicked "fuck"s.

James is hitting something tender and spongy when he finally finishes. His whole body shudders, his shoulders tensed, and his hands locking around you, iron-gripped. He gives a few shallow, half-hearted thrusts just to get it all out of his system (until tonight, inevitably).

"Fuck," He sighs, easing out of you with one hand, the other gingerly guiding your leg down. He fixes himself up, tucking his half-hard dick into his jeans. He swipes his beer off the one lonely shelf mounted on the wall, greedily swallowing it down his throat.

"Keep that pussy juicy, sweetheart. M'gonna eat it later." He grins, giving you a pat on the hip before reality hits him, and he rushes out of the room in a blur for his encore. You're left with the reek of sex and the syrup of mingling cum between your legs.

[guiltyasdave]

to live for the hope of it all

series masterlist • this is part VI

pairing: Dave York x f!reader

word count: ~3k

summary: Your time together slowly comes to an end.

warnings/tags: explicit smut (-> 18+ only!), angst, feelings, fluff, alcohol consumption, infidelity (Dave is cheating on his wife), able-bodied reader, Dave pulls her hair, dom!Dave, sub!reader, sir kink, degradation kink, oral sex (m&f receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v (it's never stated in the fic but i headcanon that reader is on birth control), somnophilia, basically free use kink, semi-public sex, dirty talk, orgasm denial, Dave is a menace, praise kink, one (1) ass slap, idiots in love, please let me know if i missed anything!

a/n: all my love to @joelscurls who looked this over and assured me that it isn’t trash, you’re the best <3

i can’t believe it myself, but by the looks of it, this is the penultimate chapter. i was a feral and emotional mess while writing this and it shows. i’m not sorry about the ending.

dividers as always by @saradika-graphics 🫶🏻

find my full masterlist here and follow @guiltyasdavenotifs for fic updates <3

You wake up slowly, not ready to let go of the dream that you had been lost in. Dave had been all over you, his hands and mouth touching your skin softly, more softly than you’re used to. Your mind is still holding on to the feeling, desire is throbbing between your legs and you could swear that you can still feel his tongue on you. You feel so warm, so full of bliss, you don’t ever want to leave this state.

Your eyes snap open at the sensation of something entering you, a sensation that feels too real to still be part of your dream. Your gasp resounds loudly in the quiet room and a low chuckle reaches your ears, hot breaths fanning against your wet pussy.

Your eyes fly down to find Dave between your legs, smirking up at you. His chin is drenched in your slick and his gaze burns into yours, before he dives back in, sucking your clit between his plush lips and pumping two fingers into you.

Your head falls back against the pillows, a moan rising in your throat as your hips buck upwards, chasing his touch. You have no idea how long he has been at this, but you feel swollen, heat engulfing you, the tension in your body already close to snapping.

“Dave,” you whimper, your voice still hoarse from sleep.

He grunts in response, sucking harder and speeding up his thrusts. You’re trembling, your hands flying to grasp at his hair, anything to keep you grounded while your mind is still struggling to catch up to the sensations that you’ve just woken up to.

You grind your hips into his face, your grip in his hair tightening and you note somewhere in the back of your mind that usually, you’d get scolded for this. But right now, he just groans against you, the added vibrations driving you closer to the edge until you writhe against him, loud moans of his name leaving your mouth as your whole body tenses up, the heat inside of you reaching a boiling point until you break underneath him, pulsing around his fingers and drenching his face with the wetness that’s gushing out of you.

You slump against the mattress as you gradually come down, your thighs twitching as he places another chaste kiss on your clit, then comes back up until he’s face to face with you. You’re breathless, watching with wide eyes as he wipes his chin, a pleased grin on his face.

“Good morning,” he tells you, as nonchalant as if he hadn’t just melted your brain within five minutes of you waking up.

“Hi,” you mumble, lazily smiling up at him, still basking in the bliss of your slowly subsiding orgasm, “thank you.”

He leans down to kiss you, his tongue slipping into your mouth and letting you taste yourself, almost making you moan again.

“Looked so pretty this morning, I couldn’t help myself.”

You bury your face in his neck, hiding the smile that’s spreading over your face. This is it, you think, this is all you want, forever.

He orders breakfast while you shower and waits for you in the living area when you exit the bathroom, clad in another skimpy dress that you bought just for this trip. He’s sipping a coffee and slowly chewing on a pastry when you enter the room, his eyes following your every move.

He tuts when you pull out a chair next to him, making you pause, your gaze flying up to his face. The dark glint that you’ve come to recognize is back in his eyes and you feel goosebumps erupting on your skin, arousal already beginning to swirl in your belly again.

“Down there,” he tells you, tilting his head down to his feet.

It’s probably embarrassing how fast you sink down to your knees, obediently sitting on the ground beside him, and it’s probably even more embarrassing how wet it gets you, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Your mind is taken up by the want, the need to please him, drowning everything else out.

His hand is at the back of your head, directing your body until you’re sitting between his legs, the bulge in his pants in your direct eyesight. Your mouth is watering and you can’t suppress the whine that escapes you. He chuckles, giving your hair a hard tug.

“Patience, sweetheart. Show me your tits first.”

Your fingers are pushing down the straps of your dress as quickly as you can, revealing your naked chest to him. Your nipples are pebbling in the cool air of the room and you present yourself to him, folding your hands behind your back.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, reaching down to toy with your sensitive flesh, tugging and pinching until you’re squirming, rubbing your thighs together to ease some of the ache that’s burning between your legs again. He gives you a particularly hard pinch that makes you gasp, then leans back in his chair, smirking down at you.

“Now open your mouth.”

You obey eagerly, your eyes wide as you stare up at him, waiting for what comes next. He lets you sit like that for a few moments, watching as your drool slowly collects on your tongue and dribbles out of your mouth.

He chuckles again, eyes trained on your face as he opens his pants and releases his cock. You want to beg for him, want him to know how much you need him, but you remain motionless, mouth wide open like he told you to.

“So good this morning,” he praises you, petting your head before he fists your hair again and pulls you forward. He holds you there while he grabs his cock with his other hand, rubbing the head over your tongue until it’s drenched in your saliva, then smearing it all over your face. You whine louder this time, the degradation turning you on beyond belief, and he slaps his cock against your cheek.

“Did I tell you to make any noise?!” he demands, his voice cold. You give an infinitesimal shake of your head, which is as much movement as you can manage with his grip still tight in your hair.

“Didn’t think so,” he murmurs. Then he thrusts forward, burying himself in your throat. You splutter around him, forcing yourself to keep your hands behind your back as he pulls your head back up and then down his length again.

You let him move you however he wants, making you gag over and over when he holds you down and thrusts into you simultaneously. It’s filthy, your face is drenched in tears and drool, but you wouldn’t want to have it any other way.

“There you go, sweetheart,” he grits out, his hold on your hair tightening further, smirking down at you. “Here's your breakfast.”

It shouldn’t turn you on the way it does.

You’re burning and your slick is covering your thighs when his movements finally still and he spills down your throat. You swallow dutifully, cherishing the bitter taste and keeping your eyes trained on his face, just the way he likes.

You squirm under his gaze as he takes in the way you rub your thighs together, hips humping thin air, desperate for friction.

“You wanna come again already?”

You nod helplessly, pouting up at him. “Please, sir.” Your voice is raspy from the way he just assaulted your throat and you can tell that he likes it.

“That’s too bad,” he shrugs, pushing his chair back and standing up.

“You-“

You glare at him from your place on the floor, not trusting your trembling legs to carry you just yet. He leans down and pecks your lips, clearly pleased with himself, before he’s slowly pulling you up until you’re standing in front of him.

“Have some breakfast,” he tells you gently, placing another kiss on your cheek and embracing you in his arms. “You did so good.”

You help yourself to some fruit, ignoring both the incessant throbbing of need between your legs and the flutter in your chest at his sudden gentleness.

You spend the day down at the small bay, lounging on one of the bigger beach beds that has enough room for the both of you.

You’re soaking in the sunshine and the sound of the waves rolling to the shore, with your head resting on Dave’s bare chest. You’ve decided to give your book another try, but it’s getting increasingly harder to focus on the words in front of you. Your gaze keeps trailing up to his face, where you’re more often than not met with his eyes already on you.

His hands are on you constantly, his fingers softly drawing shapes onto your skin. It’s nice, an unhurried kind of intimacy that you rarely experience with him. You wish you could stop time, to keep living in this moment with him, in this sliver of existence where it’s so easy to pretend that he’s yours, that you’ll always be together like this.

Over the course of the afternoon, his touches grow more demanding, hands inching towards your breasts, trailing the seams of your bikini and ghosting over the fabric, a sensation that’s barely there, but enough to make your nipples tighten until they’re pressing against the skimpy piece of clothing and you’re squirming against him, arousal once more hot between your thighs.

You catch his eye, the controlled, almost unimpressed expression on his face that once again makes it clear without doubt how in control of you he is. You want to melt against him.

In the evening, you’re leaning against the balcony’s railing, watching the shades of pink and orange in the sky slowly morphing into darkness and the stars twinkling to life above you.

Dave comes up behind you, his body leaning into yours and pressing you against the rail while his hand skims over your thigh and trails underneath your dress, pushing the hem up as it travels higher. The need that you have tried to suppress the whole day despite his wandering hands flares back up and has you squirming, grinding against him. You feel his cock harden and press against your backside, and a whine escapes you. You’re already drenched, and eager to take everything that he has to give you.

He shushes you, his breath hot against your neck while he’s still pushing the dress up higher until your bare ass is exposed to him. You hadn’t bothered with underwear this evening, excitedly awaiting his reaction.

“Fuck,” he hisses and grabs at your cheeks, his grip digging into the flesh as you push back against him. “All ready and waiting for me, huh?”

His fingers dip between your legs and swirl through your slick folds, barely brushing against your clit, but the short contact is enough to make you moan out loud.

“Thought I told you to be quiet,” he growls and his hand connects with your ass in a harsh slap. You bite your lip hard to stop yourself from crying out again and feel another gush of wetness cover your thighs. You’re positively dripping for him, all rational thoughts wiped from your mind. You don’t care who could see you, who could hear you, you just want him inside of you now.

Dave has a seemingly endless amount of patience when it comes to teasing you, but right now, he appears to be just as desperate as you feel. The clink of his belt buckle has you pressing your thighs together, the need for any kind of friction almost painful at this point, but within seconds, he roughly kicks your legs apart, his fingers curling around your neck and bending you forward.

The feeling of his cock nudging at your pussy makes you gasp and he slowly presses forward, making you feel every inch as your walls stretch around him. You’re pressing your lips together, almost trembling with the effort of keeping quiet.

“Dirty girl,” Dave rasps in your ear, his teeth nipping at your skin, “fucking desperate, letting me fuck you out here for everyone to see.”

You clench around him at his words and he chuckles darkly, slowly pulling back before he thrusts back into you, knocking the air out of your lungs. His grip on your neck tightens and he speeds up, slamming into you again and again until your vision blurs and you’re gasping, holding onto the railing for dear life as he ravages your cunt. A particularly deep thrust forces a loud moan out of you that you can’t hold back and he stills, his hand leaving your neck and moving to cover your mouth instead.

“What’d I tell you, huh? Fucking slut, you want people to see you, don’t you?”

You shake your head, trying to crane your neck to look at him, but his hold on your face is too strong and you give up, a defeated whimper escaping you.

He leans forward, nuzzling against your throat and kissing your sensitive skin surprisingly gently. “Color, sweetheart?”

His hand lifts just enough that you can whisper out “green, sir” against it, before he seals it back over your mouth. He exhales sharply before he pulls back and takes up his rhythm again, his cock pounding into you hard enough to make you see stars behind your eyelids.

“You’re so fucking perfect… Fucking made for me,” he growls and you can’t stop the whines that are falling from your lips and come out muffled against his hand. It’s all too much, his dirty words in your ear, the sensation of his cock hitting so deep inside you over and over.

“Quit it,” he barks, not faltering in his thrusts but pulling your head back further so that you’re arching against him. “One more sound and I’m not gonna let you come, are we clear?”

You nod desperately, your eyes squeezed shut and your whole body trembling with the effort to stay quiet, even though this slightly different angle is bringing you to the edge so fast that you don’t think you could hold your orgasm back if you tried.

He has to feel you tightening around him, because he gasps out, “go ahead baby, come for me,” and you do, your scream muffled against his hand as pure ecstasy flows through your body and your vision blacks out completely. His grip on your hips is bruising as he joins you, spilling his seed deep inside of you and pressing open-mouthed kisses against your neck and shoulders.

Your shaking legs barely keep you upright and he half leads, half carries you into the bedroom, a constant string of praise whispered against your heated skin.

The following days are a rush of sunshine, swimming and fucking at any given opportunity. You want to cherish every second, commit them to memory, but it feels like time is speeding up, the way it so often does when all you want is for it to pass more slowly. But it’s running out, like sand running through an hourglass, much like the sand that you’ve so often curled your toes into during the past week.

You don’t want to go back to your old life, don’t want to go back to having him only for a few days a month, never sure when he’ll come back, always on borrowed time. You want him with you, the little things, want to wake up to him next to you, want to have coffee when it’s still dark out, want to come home to each other, laugh with him, his hand sliding into yours when you walk. You want a life with him and that thought terrifies you. He has that life with someone, and it’s not you.

He hasn’t brought the “I’ll get out” back up and you haven’t asked. You’re not sure if it’s your place, and you like to think that he’ll come to you if he wants to talk about it. When he said it, in the darkness of your room, you had just mumbled an “okay” and pressed a light kiss against the side of his mouth. He had hummed and pulled you closer, both of you drifting off to sleep.

But, even if he gets out - what does it change for you?

It’s the last evening, you’re sated and happy. You can still feel today’s sunshine on your skin as you’re sitting on a couch at the edge of the dinner restaurant’s terrace. You’ve been watching the sunset, sipping on glasses of wine, your head resting on Dave’s shoulder, talking in low voices. Your hands are tangled up, fingers dancing across warm skin, never quite coming to rest.

The memory of the last couple of days is a blur of tangled limbs in white hotel sheets, lips pressed against each other almost constantly, a mix of sunshine and salty ocean air surrounding you, and endearments whispered into your ear in the dark of the night. You’re so happy that it makes you sad, your heart so full that you have no idea how to cope when you’re no longer feeling like this.

When you get back up to the room, he makes love to you in the semi-darkness, the sound of the waves filtering in through the open balcony door. You don’t know what else to call it. Normally, you’d say that he fucks you, but this is not that. His hands are soft on your skin, his lips are everywhere as he murmurs how beautiful you are over and over again.

You bite your lip when he shatters above you, when more kisses are placed on your skin and you’re pulled into his chest. You don’t allow yourself the thought that this feels like goodbye.

The journey back home goes by too quickly. It feels like you’ve barely blinked after waking up, then you’re already on the plane, then in a cab, then Dave is carrying your suitcase up to your flat before he kisses you goodbye. A few hours later, a text on your phone tells you that he has arrived home safely.

After that, you don’t hear from Dave York for three months.

if you liked this (or if you want to scream at me), please consider reblogging or leaving a comment 🫶🏻 i turned 29 two minutes before posting this and hearing your thoughts would be a lovely birthday gift 😇

[tarrynightss]

Thinking about jealous Price…

Tags: Smut below cut, fem!reader, bit of praise kink

He would hide his feeling pretty well while out in public, merely wrapping an arm around your waist or squeezing you tighter against him. Whoever complimented you or even dared to flirt would receive a polite yet threatening smile. “Real looker, ain’t she?” Most were smart enough to give a curt nod and scramble after that.

What Price wanted to do when someone hit on you was knock their damn teeth out, but he couldn’t exactly do that to some random civilian with a mouth too big for their brain. He had a reputation and code to uphold. Now… if some bastard already on the hit list dared to say something unsavory about you, then it was fair game. A finger less on them or a broken knee wouldn’t go noticed.

How people even THOUGHT to flirt with you was a mystery to him. He was often around you, and even when he wasn’t, didn’t they see that ring on your finger? Or that pretty necklace hanging around your neck? Those were his ways of making sure everyone knew you were taken, that you were his. And even then some people had the balls to challenge it.

Feeling jealous definitely amps up his teasing game, making his rough fingers trace over your soft thighs or just below your collar bone, refelling in the heated glance you send his way. He’ll breathe into your ear that he can’t wait till you both get home, and you know exactly what he’s thinking about from the gravely tone of his voice.

Once you get somewhere private his hands are all over you, hot and heavy as they trace your curves eagerly. His kisses are passionate and forceful, leaving you gasping for air against him. When he gets you so riled up that you moan into the kiss, he pulls away, settling himself on the couch, his sturdy legs spread. He doesn’t even need to say it. He wants you to work for it, to show him that it’s him that you want.

While you’re on your knees for him, gagging on his fat cock he showers you with praises. “So pretty.” “Always treat me so well, sweetheart.” “Only want to feel your pretty lips against me.” He keeps going till your face is heated from more than just effort by the time he cums down your throat.

After he feels sufficiently spoiled, it’s time for the real fun to start. He’ll fuck you rougher than usual, preferring to put you on all fours and slam into you from behind till you are a sobbing mess, both of you drenched in your combined fluids. While he’s ramming into you he’ll make you say that you are his, makes you tell him how good his cock feels in your tight little pussy. When you answer him he’ll reward you with a nice hard slap against your ass and groaning appraisal of what a good slut you are for him.

If you decide to get on top of him instead and ride him, he’s over the moon. Let him feel how much you desire him by running your hands over his broad chest, by telling him how handsome he is and no other man can compare. He’ll fuck up into you desperately, his breathing growing more rapid with every praise that falls from your lips.

No matter how he takes you, it will be deliciously frantic, taking you for as many rounds as he can before collapsing together in a sweaty mess. He’ll hold you tight to him, showering you in gentle kisses and caresses.

Once the edge is taken off by sex, he might feel some insecurity creeping in. “You know how much I love you, right? I never wanna lose you.” Only your warm smile helps ease the worry. All you need to tell him is that you know, and that you love him so much as well. Throw in a hug and he’ll settle against you, feeling like the luckiest man alive as you lay in his arms.

[maliciouslove]

𝕊ℍ𝔸ℝ𝕀ℕ𝔾

NSFW, aged up characters (21+) || minors, ageless and empty blogs DO NOT INTERACT!!

pairing // Mikey x reader x Draken

word count //  582

tags // degradation (reader called 'whore' once), slight breath play, size kink if you squint, tummy bulge, creampie, slightly unhinged Mikey, a bit of Mikey x Draken action at the end

AN // this was based on a short lived dream that was disturbed by my pesky alarm, hence why it is so smol. mayhaps one day i will expand.

Every once in a while, Mikey feels rather generous and allows his right hand man—his best friend—to fuck you. He would sit nearby commanding you, whispering in your ear while Draken was in your gut, his fat cock stretching you out, leaky tip abusing your cervix.

“Look at you, all fucked out like this on someone else’s cock. Filthy whore.” Mikey’s fingers are now wrapping around your throat, probably a bit tighter than they’re supposed to. There is a dangerous glint in his eyes.

Your eyes dart between Mikey’s and Draken’s, unspoken pleads spilling out just like the tears streaming down your cheeks. You could barely hang on, thighs violently shaking around Ken’s waist, and you could feel him all the way in your throat, his big cock relentlessly drilling into you, kissing all the good spots that made you cry out in pleasure.

Your walls flutter around his girth, squeezing him for all he’s worth and making his head spin with thoughts he wasn’t supposed to have. Thoughts about having you all to himself.

You looked even prettier than usual pinned under his large body—soft skin under his fingers, tits bouncing with every thrust, small bulge visible on your belly, and eyes rolled at the back of your head. Draken wished he could see you like this more often, as so far it was his favourite view.

And Mikey didn’t mind the view either—he didn’t miss the way your tiny hands clutched around Ken’s neck, how your tongue was lolled out and you were loud. And so fucking gorgeous. And he knew you like the back of his hand so he was already aware you were close to cumming—the way your eyebrows pinched together and your muscles tensed.

“M-Mik-ey.. please.. p-please, I need to.. I want to.. ” you were a babbling mess, all you could really manage to say was ‘please’ yet he knew exactly what you meant.

“Aw, wanna cum, princess?” he cooes, his lips wrapping around your perky nipple and sucking it hard, teeth grazing over it. All you could give in response was a nod, begging again, saying how it’s driving you crazy. So Mikey took pity on you. “Go on then, show Kenchin how good you feel creaming around his cock.”

And you didnt need to be told twice, fingers craded through Ken’s hair, tugging on it, your whole body went rigid, the coil in your belly finally snapping. All at once, your orgasm is washing over you with the force of a tsunami, leaving you a trembling mess.

“Fuck, f-FUCK” Draken was now struggling, hips stuttering against yours. You were impossibly tight already, but with your pussy clamping down on him and sucking him in greedily, he could barely contain himself. He was going to cum.

“Shit, cummin” his hands were bruising your hips with the force he was holding you with. And through the haze of your orgasm you could feel his—balls pressed to the curvature of your ass, emptying themselves deep inside you. Hot spurts of thick cum were filling you up and it was the most euphoric feeling ever. Until you heard Mikey speak again.

“I gave her permission to cum, I don’t fucking remember giving you permission, Kenchin.” He has a hand wrapped around Ken’s throat now, eyes looking even more dangerous than before, completely clouded by lust. And before you realise what'a happening, Mikey is pulling Draken in for a kiss and you realise.. you’re in for a really long night.

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑! I do not own any of the characters or people mentioned in my work. these are works of pure fiction that do not reflect the views, opinions, or actions of any person, real or fictional. Furthermore, all characters I write for [thirsts, drabbles, fics, etc.] are aged up to 21 or older – they are adults with adult characteristics presented and written in adult contexts.

all rights reserved © by maliciouslove. my work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. all fanfics belong to me, please do not copy, translate nor repost the fics or files seen above as this is strictly prohibited.