#and maybe little glimpses into their relationship

[chesterfieldblossom]

"AMERICAN WEDDING"

Arthur Morgan x Reader (1k words) "Well you can have my mustang / That's all I've got in my name"

SUMMARY | Arthur and you had been in a discreet relationship, but everyone on the camp knew your commitment. But of course, he wanted to make a bit more official. NOTES | It's really short, like just and idea I had on my notes when I was listening American Wedding by Frank Ocean. But I hope y'all enjoy. Also, dividers by @cafekitsune WARNINGS/TAGS | Oneshot, fluff, wedding proposal, f!reader RATING | Teen

"Well, you can have my Mustang." He drawled, voice low and quiet, as though he didn’t want to disturb the night. "That's all I got in my name."

You glanced up at him, the moonlight casting faint shadows across his face, highlighting the lines of weariness that came with the life he led. His eyes, usually hard and distant, were softer now, vulnerable even. Arthur Morgan was not a man who gave easily, and yet, here he was, offering you what little he had—his horse, his loyalty, his heart.

You had thought about marriage before—when you were younger, when life seemed simpler and oblivious. But the image had always been different: a small church, family gathered, maybe even a white dress. Not this—lying on a dusty cot, surrounded by the wilderness, with Arthur Morgan of all people. But that was the thing about life, wasn’t it? It never turned out quite like you imagined.

"Arthur..." You whispered, unsure of how to respond. The weight of his words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. He wasn’t just talking about his Mustang. This was Arthur’s way of saying everything—his past, his future, his soul. You could feel his uncertainty, the tension in the way his fingers hovered slightly above you bare arm, as if he was waiting for you to make a move, to push him away, to tell him no.

But you didn’t want to. God, you would be out of your damn mind if you say no.

You reached up, placing your hand on his, stilling his gentle caress. His hand was large, warm, and rough from years of hard work. It grounded you, made you feel safe in this world of chaos. "I don’t need a Mustang, Arthur." You murmured, thumb tracing circles on the back of his hand. "I need you."

His breath hitched almost imperceptibly, and for a moment, no one spoke. You could feel his heartbeat, strong and steady, a reminder of the man beneath the outlaw. You could see the boy in he for the first time, a glimpse of your children. You wondered if he ever imagined this for himself, or if he thought he was too far gone for something like love, like commitment.

"I ain’t got much to offer." he finally said, voice hushed, like he was scared the words might break something between you. "Ain’t never been good at... well, any of this. You know that."

You smiled softly, shifting closer to him. "You’re enough, Arthur. Just you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted."

He didn’t speak for a while, just stared at you, as if he were trying to make sense of how someone could want him—just him. The world had not been kind to Arthur Morgan, and in many ways, it had hardened him. But beneath the roughness, the gruff words and guarded glances, there was a man who felt deeply, who cared more than he let on.

As if making a decision, Arthur suddenly shifted beside you, reaching into the pocket of his worn coat. You watched, curious, as he fumbled for a moment before pulling something out—a small, delicate ring. The band was thin, silver, and simple, with no extravagant jewels, but to you, it was the most beautiful thing in the world.

He held it out to you, almost sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. "Picked it up in town a while back." he admitted, eyes flicking up to meet yours. "Didn’t know if you’d... well, if you’d want it. Ain’t much, but it’s real silver."

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart swelling in your chest. The fact that Arthur had gone out of his way to find a ring, something so traditional, so symbolic, meant more than words could express. You could see the way he was looking at you, searching for some kind of approval, some sign that this was right.

"Arthur..." You whispered, the voice breaking slightly. "It’s beautiful."

Without another word, he took your left hand in his, his touch gentle but sure. Slowly, almost reverently, he slid the ring onto your finger. It fit snugly, as though it had been made for you, and the cool metal sent a shiver through your skin. The moment felt timeless, as if you were the only two people in the world, surrounded by the quiet wilderness and the faint glow of the stars.

"There." he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Now it’s official, I guess."

You couldn’t help but smile, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. This was not the wedding you had once imagined, but in every way that mattered, it was better. Arthur Morgan was yours, and you was his, bound not by law or tradition, but by something deeper—something unbreakable.

You leaned forward, pressing your forehead against his, the noses brushing, breaths mingling in the cool night air. "I love you, Arthur Morgan." You whispered, the voice thick with emotion. "More than anything."

He closed his eyes, his arms wrapping around you as he pulled you close, his lips pressing softly to your temple. "I love you too." he murmured, the words coming out rough, like they were foreign to him. But they were real, and that’s all that mattered.

As you rested your head against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing, you looked down at the ring now glinting on your finger. It was simple, yes, but it was yours. Arthur leaned forward, lifting your chin to gave you a kiss. You happily returned, your bodies shifting closer as he embrace you and the lips moved together.

"But Jesus Christ don't break my heart." He whispered. The warm breath brushed on your lips, making you want to kiss him again.

"This wedding ring won't ever wipe off." You promised to him, whispering back.

[declareqenius]

i promise part three will be here soon! it’s the last week of the semester and i am in the trenches but i haven’t forgotten about some would sing and some would scream

[lavenoon]

Found the Flock, Dynamic Swap Drabble, ~2K Words

Before Robin gains a new tenant, they first get to know the withdrawn rookie - a gamble for both, as neither get along with other agents. For good reason, as it turns out, but having a friend makes many things easier.

Thick as Thieves, Reverse Dynamic Swap Drabble, ~2K Words

A little blunder causes Moon to fret, and coincidentally, Robin laments about their tenant, who just can't seem to stand them. Dawn, the victim of their complaint, is more than ready to distract them.

[1nthedarknessofthenight]

﴾ michelin star

pairing: bangchan x f!reader

genre: one-shot, idol au, smut

word count: 7,2K

warnings: oral (f. receiving) ⋆ cunnilingus ⋆ face sitting! ⋆ almost getting caught ⋆ not established!relationship ⋆ thigh!kink (chan is huuungry in this fic)

summary: he’s been ignoring you, only leaving you to wonder what exactly you have done to make him so quiet and one night you just have enough of it as much as he had enough of trying to keep himself away from you

author’s note: so happy for everyone that saw skz in milan and london! (not jealous at all)

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You have noticed it first at the practice room last week. How jumpy he was. Overly sweaty from only warming up before the practice, stretching his arms over his head with a long sigh. You watched him from one of the couches in the room — how he kept wiping the palms of hands over his sweatpants, scrunching the material between his fingers. How he kept running a hand through his messy curls, before putting his baseball hat back on, only to mess up his hair again. His tongue licked at his bottom lip, little chapped, tasting his own sweat that kept running down his forehead, but he didn’t looked thirsty — at least for water.

And you definitely weren’t the only one to notice his unusual behavior. Minho kept a careful eye on him, not saying anything, but as he would catch your eye, you could see the small concern in them. As time passed by that day, you stopped scrolling through your phone as every time you would look down, you heard the guys sighing what sounded like in defeat. You put your phone down, just catching as Chan stumbled over his own foot and it seemed like by the reaction of the other guys, this was the thing they were so annoyed about. They don’t usually get like this, getting annoyed about someone’s mistakes and as you look up it wasn’t even that.

Everyone looked at Chan in confusion, asking him if everything was okay. Him, like the good leader he was, brushed them off, saying he was just maybe getting rusty and then saying he again didn’t sleep that well. Everyone seemed to believe him, but something wasn’t just adding up. For just a small glimpse of his eyes on your figure told you that somewhat it wasn’t truly it. But you didn’t know that all of this was because of you.

The second time that this weird behavior of his appeared was in the middle of recording. You came in, carrying drinks for everyone and as weirdly as it sounded, you could just feel him staring into the back of your head when you gave Seungmin his drink. You huffed under your breath from the way his glare made you feel so small, smoothing down your skirt, before walking up to him and Changbin who sat next to him.

You smiled at the other who at least not like his friend mirrored your expression as you put his drink down. From the spot you were standing you leaned over the back of Changbin’s chair, arm stretched out with his drink, but it was like your hand had frozen over it at that moment. Chan with his thumb between his lips, bit at his nail as he burned holes into your exposed legs. You caught a glimpse of how his eyes became darker in the few seconds. He looked up, brown eyes falling on your waist where your soft tummy was slightly spilling over your skirt, from the corner of his eye catching the way your hand slightly began to shook, before finally glancing at you through his lashes. You have never seen him look like that, he almost looked like he was angry with you, but before you could even question your own thoughts, he took his drink from your slightly shaking hand, giving you a small ‘thanks’, his attention again everywhere, but you.

Soon the thought of him being angry with you became the only relevant thing to you. He didn’t talk to you for whatever reason. You two got along well, always so open with each other, but suddenly you felt like you were strangers again. He didn’t acknowledge your presence whatsoever and that hurt you. For the past few days your mind was occupied with him only, also wondering what possibly you could’ve done so wrong to make him act this way.

You thought back at the night you spend over at the dorms. Maybe you did something that day? However you can’t think of anything. Maybe it was the thing of you trying to get the guys to stay that day at home, as it was so hot outside, plans of going out to the park completely forgotten by then. They agreed with you, happily, laying on the cold ground in light clothes, fan on maximum, all of you completely basking in the cold air. No, that wasn’t it. He also agreed with your idea. He was laying down under the couch while you took every inch of it for yourself. The guys hated the idea of their skin sticking into the material, so they let you have it, like the gentlemen they are.

No…you really have no idea, why he is like this and that made you even more mad.

You couldn’t take it anymore. The constant guilt and sadness rising in your chest. Every time he looked away from you made you sick. Maybe, it is because you have been hanging around a lot more lately as it was the beginning of summer. Maybe, he is just bothered by your nonstop presence…The past few days the others kept their eyes on both of you, shocking you by keeping their mouths shut. Suddenly they didn’t have anything to say. You and Chan are great friends and seeing you two ignoring each other like that — well, it was only one sided anyway, made them realize that they probably shouldn’t mess with whatever this thing between you two is.

You also did exactly that. You waited for him to say something, do anything, but he didn’t. You stayed quiet, but it was slowly killing you. He was starting to drive you crazy from his constant short glances, not being able, for whatever reason, to fully look at you. So, you decided to finally make him.

────

Your hand formed into a fist, for a second raised in the air, before finally knocking on the door. You bite at your lip, chewing it, tasting your strawberry chapstick on your tongue. The breath you took was already stuck in your throat, choking you as the door flings immediately open. You somewhere in your mind hoped he would greet you, but you are more thankful for the vibrant smile sent your way from the freckled boy, standing in front of you.

“Hey, Y/N.” Felix greets you, tugging you quickly into a small hug, making you stumble from his strong pull.

You sigh shortly into his shoulder. “Hi, Lixie.” You pull away from him, exchanging a small knowing look with each other, before he lead you inside the dorm.

You told the freckled blonde everything. From the way you felt absolutely clueless of what to do, to the way this whole situation made you feel. You realized through your words that needed so badly to be spoken, how much time you were actually spending with him before this whole situation. It was such a normal thing to be at each other’s sides that you have never noticed that maybe it was too much for him. Chan is kind. He never said anything hurtful ever to you, but maybe he should. Felix listened to your every word, weighting them, looking carefully over your expressive face. That also, even when you were laying your heart out, was kind of a little suspicious. He did listened always, yes, but something is telling you that he just knew something you don’t…

You didn’t question him as he for the matter decided for you to come the next day to their dorm where everyone would be present. No way for him to avoid you at that matter as you all will spend your time watching something in the living room. However as you walk through the hallway to glance into said room, everyone turn their heads…everyone expect him — because he wasn’t even there.

Everyone’s greetings died hallway as they notice your expression. “Where’s Chan?” You wondered out loud, fidgeting slightly under their gazes as they all briefly share a look.

“He’s in his bedroom.”

You sigh, so quietly that it wasn’t even heard over the television. A hand falls on to your shoulder next, making you look up at the blonde who frowns at your own expression. “I’ll go get him.”

“No.” You say, rather firmly as the sadness and disappointment slowly melts into anger, pulling away from Felix who just blinks at your answer. “I’ll go.” He simply nods, seeing that there is no way for either of them to tell you otherwise, silently watching you make your way to Chan’s bedroom. You held your head high, looking confident in your steps, determined to finally hold your ground, but as soon as you turn the corner your back meets the hallway wall with a big shaky sigh.

You play with the fabric of your skirt, pulling and tugging so roughly that you hear the fabric tearing from your movements. Your eyes glare holes into the closed door to his bedroom at the end of the hallway, the only source of light being the soft hue of his blue led lights coming from the bottom of the door. You know that you shouldn’t bother him when he is in his room, probably working on another song or something, but the rule was no working when there is a movie night. Also, most importantly, you are really starting to feel the adrenaline rushing in. How he can just ignore you like that? Don’t you at least deserve an explanation?

Soon enough, you are standing right before the door. Hand almost shaking as you knock on it few times. You don’t even know why you are suddenly so nervous. You hope that the reason why he become so distant isn’t something too complicated. A grunt comes out from behind the closed door and you don’t even say anything that it is you, maybe because you just know he would again just avoid you.

You came into the room, closing the door behind you and silently playing for a moment with the lock as your eyes fall on to Chan. He sat at his table, headphones on, back turned to you, but after a moment of just not hearing anything, he finally looks at you. Immediately his eyes seem to flicker with that emotion again as he glanced you over.

“Hey…” He trails off, quietly, almost like he mumbled it to himself mostly.

“Hey.” You say back, swallowing the lump in your throat, watching as he again turns away from you. Even from your position at the door, holding the handle, like you would just walk out at any moment, you could feel how tense his shoulders were. You thought that you were stubborn, hardheaded, but you for sure were proved otherwise by the man before you. It anger you even more, the silent treatment he put you in is slowly drowning you. “Are you coming? The guys already started the movie without us.” You continued, hands falling to your sides to fumble with the hem of your skirt again.

You watch him nod at your statement, almost like shrugging you off, the frown on your face deepening at that. “Yeah, sure just give me a moment I’ll be there.” Chan, says, nonchalantly, his attention on the screen of his open laptop.

The pout on your lips slowly turns into sneer as you just stood there for a moment looking at him. Can’t he just say something already? Like at least acknowledge your presence, not making you feel like air. “What did I do?” You say, arms crossing over your chest.

He humms then, just that. The fact that he still kept ignoring you, makes you stump over to him with heavy sigh, pulling one side of his headphones from his ear, your rough movements, making him yelp. His hand flies to the top of his ear that is slowly turning red, frowning at the small sting. He looks up at you with big eyes, lips parted. At least now he is finally looking at you.

“What did I do?” You question him again, arms still hugging your chest, like forming some sort of shield around yourself.

His eyes widened for a split second. He knows what you are talking about. “…..what?” Comes out from his lips, eyes almost burning holes on your face, unblinking.

You at his stare and weird behavior become for a second embarrassed by your sudden outburst, seeing him so collected and calm. But you were sure you weren’t imagining things, something seriously was wrong. With him or with you? You still don’t know. You have the right to be upset as he even now, keeps avoiding you in some way, it is like he was looking through you, eyes completely unfocused, but hard.

You sigh through your nose, your hard face softening as you again feel the guilt creeping up to you. “It seems like I did something.”

“No, you didn’t do anything.” He almost said robotically, fast, like he was scared he would suddenly say something completely different, but that is exactly what you want. He is still holding back.

Your face falls at his words. “Do you think I didn’t notice you ignoring me?” He at that, looks away from you, eyes flickering down to stare at your exposed legs. He stayed silent at your words, watching his knuckles turn white from how much he is gripping the armrests. “Chan, just tell me what I did, because I honestly have no idea…”

Sighing, you can’t fight the frown forming on your face. You watch him close his eyes, mirroring your sigh, but that is the only thing he did. You have never realize that your presence bothered him so much. Are you really that annoying? Maybe if you didn’t always require his company almost everywhere you go, this whole situation wouldn’t even happened. His awful silence gave away so much, the pull at his eyebrows and rigid breathing. You already said enough, you think and he in return didn’t, so you just got the feeling that he doesn’t want you here anymore.

You fight back tears of anger mostly, twirling around to maybe lock yourself in the bathroom for a while to calm down, but you weren’t even able to take a step further as you suddenly hear his mumble.

“You’re so stupid…”

Your head immediately whips around, startling him by the anger radiating from you. “Excuse me?” You almost spit out, emotions on the edge. You can’t believe that he just said that to you, ready to throw some insults back, but his frantic movements stop you.

His eyes snap wide open, twirling in his chair to face you, throwing his arms in the air. “No! Not you, it’s me…” He at that places his hands over his face, his next words being muffled. “Oh, fuck, I’m not mad at you or anything. Can we just forget it?”

You want to laugh in disbelief at his words. You for these past few days felt horrible and now he just expects you to forget it? You are seeing red, but you still try to keep your voice down, aware of the other people still present. “No?” You say incredulously, chest rising wildly. “You’ve been so weird, I want to know why…” I deserve it, you wanted to say. His face falls, fingers pressing into his eyelids as a broken noise falls from his mouth. He looked troubled and you are becoming even more concern about what this is truly about. You are scared, thinking the most horrible things imaginable.

“I can’t–“ Chan says firstly to himself, before pulling his hands away from his face to look at you. “I can’t tell you.”

“Why?” You almost whisper, eyes trailing over his reddish eyes and you hope those aren’t tears reflecting in them.

“You will hate me.”

That was his simple answer. Even now you do not hate him. How could you possibly? There isn’t truly a situation in mind that could make you hate him. It was such strong emotion and feeling it towards him, would make you hate yourself mostly. You were angry with him. The way he keeps ignoring, makes you feel so unwanted, but seeing him like this makes all the anger melt away as there was only concern left behind. You shake your head at his words, again finding it difficult to be truly be angry with him as he looked as broken as you felt inside. “Trust me, nothing could propably make me angrier…” You say, wholeheartedly, trying to ease this invisible tension between you two.

Chan look at you with a look that told you; we will see. He again glanced away from you, playing with the rings on his fingers, before sighing in defeat. “….you remember the time you spend the night when there was that killing heat?”

“Yeah?” You said, shrugging and coming closer to him. You do remembered it and you are becoming really curious about what he will say next as you also thought about that day as the solution to this problem.

As you took a step closer to him, towering over him as he still sat in his chair, his head snaps away from you again. The rough moment made him twirl away from you slightly, watching him bite his lip. “Fuck…I can’t even look at you–“

Now you do laugh in disbelief, hands flying in the air before they slap against your thighs. “Why not?” He doesn’t answer again and from your own outburst you don’t even see the way he scrunches up the material of his shorts. “God dammit, Christopher–“

He briefly stills at the sound of his name, before a gasp rings in the air. It came from him as he felt your hand at the back of the headrest, your pretty nails briefly scratching his skull. A shiver runs down his spine, eyes wide when you turn him around to face you. He immediately panics at that, his hands that were digging into the armrests flying to push you away, but they only hover as his eyes again fall on to your legs. “Please just stay there…” He watches your face crunch up in hurt, but he simply couldn’t catch his breath by the way your body is so close to his. “Stay there!”

Your own eyes widened, stilling in your spot a few inches away from him. The thing that makes you snap out from your thoughts is the way his chest kept rising up and down, you are getting a little scared that he in any moment would just smother. Your head tilts down, the hands on either side of his head, falling back to your sides. As they touched the skin of your legs, he almost jumps as your hand grazes over his, still stretched out one. “Chan?” You call out him, watching his frozen body slowly melt at the sound of his name falling from your lips.

He keeps his eyes dead set on your legs, arms still in air, you almost want to laugh at his silly position. “So you remember that night, right?” He asked, voice serious.

You wonder again what exactly happened that made him like this. “Yeah…” The way you knew that this day is somehow relevant, but still not knowing fully what you did, makes you take in a shaky breath.

“God…I can’t get it out of my head–“ You watch his hands form into fists, cheeks on fire slightly from the way he basically growls. “Your – you were wearing those goddamn shorts, if you can even call them that and I fucking tried to look away…but it only became worst when you started to only wear these skirts..and, and — fuck, I’m so sorry, I c-can’t – this is so wrong.”

Your mouth is left open, the more he talked the more he looked at you and for the first time you wish he didn’t, because he was looking at you in such way that it made you subconsciously rub your thighs together. He however did noticed, his last words coming out choked at the way the meat of your thighs rubbed together. Chan is ready to just stand up and leave, not being able to control himself anymore.

You immediately stop him, hands flying to his shoulders, pressing him back down. “Hey!” You raise your voice at him, but both of you can hear the way you also choke over such a simple word. “I don’t understand…” You kind of did, but you need to hear more, because you can’t take any more subtle words, though those words that left him so far, made you almost fall on to your knees.

His eyes glossed over and not from what you think. Chan doesn’t know what exactly happened that day. He thought, knew, you were attractive, but he never had such vile thoughts running through his mind about you. Maybe it was the way, you looked that day on the couch. Skin glistening, the sweat making your perfume smell so intoxicating. Your hair was sticking to your skin, frown on your features, chewing your bottom lip. It also didn’t help him keep his sanity — the way your legs looked from his view. He didn’t know why he chose that position. He didn’t know at that moment if he should feel blessed or just be completely begging for mercy to get the image of your yummy thighs from his head. The way you layed there, completely exhausted, not even seeing the way your shorts rolled right up to your hips — this is it.

Your legs, your fucking thighs were the thing that made him go so distant. He for a while kept it this to himself, because how could he talk about such thing with anyone? He felt dirty every time he thought back at the way your thighs looked. He wanted to just fucking bite them every time you would walk pass him, because like if you knew, you started to wear dresses and skirts…After few days when everyone seem to notice his change of behavior, he told Felix. To his shock, he only laughed, saying that it was so silly of him to be like that just because of your thighs. But they weren’t any thighs…they were yours and also Felix told him that day how he wasn’t the only one thinking about you like that. He couldn’t fight the jealousy rising in his chest as he listened to the words his band members kept saying about you, but who could he judge. He probably was the worst out of all of them.

“I started to ignore you, not because of something you did, but it was because of me…I always feel like such a pervert looking at you, but I can’t help it…they look so fucking good — I don’t want to ruin anything between us…”

You do feel weight being drop off from your shoulders as well as also the rumbling in your lower tummy. He looked so on the edge right now that you kind of found something amusing about it. He thought that maybe you would be absolutely mad, freaked out about his weird behavior, but it made the most pleasant feeling warm up your insides. “So, you were just ignoring, because you are horny?” Your voice held a teasing tone, swaying on your feet, feeling giddy inside.

His eyes widened at that. “No! Well…don’t say it like that…” Chan trails off, feeling his ears get red, face flaming hot. His eyes travel back to you as you suddenly take a step closer to him, knees almost touching.

He looked like a deer caught in headlights from the way your droopy eyes gaze down at him, bottom lip caught between your teeth. He just knows you are not even doing it on purpose. “What exactly made you so hot all over?” You wonder out loud.

The question makes him swallow nervously, realizing that the tension in the room is slowly forming into something completely different from the way you firstly step inside his room. He immediately flicker his eyes down, already giving you the answer. “…your thighs…I like your thighs…”

You tstked, basking in the way he started to become so shy and bashful. “That’s it? Tell me what else Chris.”

He again almost jumps out of his seat, but it only makes him touch his knees with your lower thighs, shocking him all over. “That’s it, I swear! I really only thought about your thighs and…” Chan curse himself for continuing after that as he saw you raise an eyebrow in question. Do you even know the effect you have on him? He probably looks pretty pathetic right now, but he really doesn’t seem to care as you tilt your head down at him, fanning your pretty eyelashes. “And how they would look spilling over my fingers…”

You suck in breath, fingers brushing over his as you stumble over thin air. His gaze turns dark at the way you almost cower. You can feel your own cheeks heating up, suddenly becoming shy under his gaze. It is the same look as the one he gave you back in the studio, now you know what it means. You could feel how his gaze changed the whole vibe of the room and you are now the one becoming bashful. “That’s it?“ You mumble, bottom lip pouting from the way you don’t even have the confidence to fully speak.

“No…there’s so much more.” He licks his lips, catching how your eyes follow the movement of his tongue. “But it would be better if I show you instead?”

“Chan…” You say his name, breathless.

He sighs heavily, eyes going everywhere, all over you. “Just say yes or no, because i think I’ll go fucking crazy otherwise.”

You shiver at his voice, the deepness vibrating your whole body. “Yes!” You almost shout and before you could even finish answering, he pulls you by your waist to his body.

His pretty fingers dig into the dip of your waist, letting you see that you could still pull away, but you only pull yourself closer to him. You let yourself fall into his lap, bottom half resting on his legs. Before you could even do anything else, he held you there, a little away from his chest so he could still look into your eyes. How did you never notice the hunger he held for you? It was completely written in his eyes, looking at you like you hung the moon. “Can I kiss you?” He says, chest bumping subtly with yours from his heavy breathing. You again want to laugh at such question, pulling the back of his head to yours closer instead. Your lips touch with gentleness for a few seconds, his lips so pillowy you can’t wait for him to kiss every inch of your body. As you pull away from each other, you give each other a long look, before one of his hands on your waist comes to weave in your hair, tugging at the root.

You gasp at the sudden roughness, letting him push his lips to your pulse, it jumping under his touch. You already probably look like a total wreck and it didn’t help the fact that just by a small tilt of your hips you could feel his hard-on. He sighs with you, kissing, licking at your neck, sending shivers all over your body. When he feels your sudden shift of your hips, something comes over him. The way his friends talked about you, made his grip tighten around your hair, pulling out a whimper from you.

He doesn’t ignore that noise, making the feeling even better with his kisses on the left side of your neck. You moan when you feel him sucking at your skin, melting into his touch even more. He start to nip at you, soaking you up in his spit from how wild he is making out with your neck. You can’t even breathe from the way he presses himself into you, making your own hand tighten around his head, him letting out a brutal groan that came from the back of his throat.

It makes him stop for a moment and you took the opportunity to pull him to your mouth. His lips felt puffy, so delicious, making you delirious from his taste alone. His tongue clashed over yours, letting your mouth open for him to just fuck you with it, as he is completely messy with it. You don’t even care about your mixed spit falling onto your shirt, but you do react when he pulls away from you urgently.

“Sit on my face.”

“What–“ You can’t even answer as he slaps his hands on your thighs, massaging roughly the fat between his fingers. “Chan I don’t know…I have never done it – I don’t want to hurt you.” You say, also breathless, freezing when the tip of his fingers almost touched your clothed core.

“I don’t care, fucking choke me with these thighs to dead, I really don’t fucking care–“

“Okay!” You answer, head snapping back to the door to his bedroom, suddenly remembering that you are in fact not the only people in the dorm right now. Your small concern melts away when you’re suddenly hoist up.

You yelp, gasp rather loudly, your hand flying to grasp his shoulders as he grip the underside of your thighs. You are shocked about how easily he just lift you up, not missing the cheeky grin on his face. You melt momentarily at the sight of his strong arms bulging, veins so prominent, you could probably spend the whole night just biting at them. He also can’t help himself getting even more hard and impatient at the thought of finally having you.

He turns around swiftly, not even giving you a warning as he throws you on his bed. You again let out a startled sound, body completely emerging into the soft mattress, bed springs screeching wildly when he falls on top of you. Your small complaint is silenced by his lips on your own, biting immediately at your bottom lip. You are already having a hard time controlling your own desires, hips jumping up and when they just softly touch his, you moan into him.

He breathes you in, heavy breaths mixing with yours, lowering himself to fully graze his cock over your cunt. The sounds you are making are really getting into his head, pushing into you just right, precum ruining his shorts. “Fuck–“ You whimper, pulling at the bottom of his shirt, nails scratching at his lower stomach. His mind was basically all over the place, but when you wrap your godforsaken legs around him, sqeeezing his hips, he sits up. You jump a little from how quick the movement is, ready to question him if you did something wrong, but you are only left confused when he falls backwards into his pillow. How can someone look this good from that angle…

“Come here-“ You are already climbing up his body by then, sitting down on his lap like before, but from this position you could feel even more. You can’t help, but press yourself harder on his clothed cock. You drool at the feeling, eyes closing to fully savour the feeling.

He sucks in breath from your smooth movements, letting you hump your pretty little clit over him as he again gets lost in your body. Chan hopes you know how good you are looking right now. Face scrunch up, hair messy from his fingers, hands pulling at his shirt like it is the only hold of sanity you have left. He bit his bottom lip, hands again traveling up your legs, peeking from your soft pink skirt and as he lifts it up a little by accident…he comes across your same colored silk panties. He will fucking cum in his pants if he doesn’t have you on his face right now.

You are pulled from your blissful state as Chan pulls you closer to him, lifting you up slightly with his strength. Your eyes open, looking into his, again glistening under your hungry gaze. “Please, sit on my face.”

You gasp softly again, but you can’t stop the desire spreading across your face. “Are you sure?” Your hand caressed his features, thumb going over the bridge of his nose, making his eyes close for a second. He for an answer pulls you again closer, making you sit up. “Wait – let me just-“ You make a move to get up from him, but he immediately grabs you tightly in his grasp.

You wanted to maybe pull down your skirt for him to get a better access to your leaking cunt, but he possibly couldn’t miss the opportunity of having you like this. Still in that pretty skirt and matching panties, like you almost knew this was going to happened. The thought of you just wearing the same thing after, juices and his spit coating your thighs, silently hoping that the guys would be able to smell him on you, made his cock jump in his shorts. “Keep it on, all…” He says, voice deep, almost not being able to hear him from the way he is already so drunk on you.

You shiver then, shuffling finally up his body, stopping at his chest, chin just grazing the inside of your thigh. “Just stop me if you can’t breathe.” He could smell your scent from here, no way he will miss the opportunity of being choked to death by your weight on his nose. He actually also never done it before, he only got the idea when you came into the picture and he can’t thought of anyone else doing it to him.

Your fingers touch briefly his as you lift up your skirt to your waist, waiting for him to shuffle down. You gasp at the sight of his face so close to your pussy, as he only groans in response from the way he could see the wet patch on your underwear growing. His hands play with the meat of your thighs, the softness, making him turn his head to suck at the skin. You moan quietly, still aware that you two are not alone, but you just can’t help yourself from moaning again as he sucks on the inside of your thigh. You could already see the purple blotches forming, not even mad when he does the same with the other. It tickled slightly, a giggle falling from your lips, hand immediately going to your mouth to silent your laugh.

However he only melts at that sound, a grin becoming prominent on his lips and you could feel it against your skin. You are just so cute and adorable, but he had to shock you by lowering you finally to his lips. No sound though leaves you, only mouth hanging open when his tongue licks a long stripe up your clothed pussy. You curse, legs trembling slightly from the way he just started to make out with your center.

You could feel his saliva smearing all over you or maybe it was your juices? Chan is already going dizzy from your tanginess, cursing himself for not talking to you sooner. He for second pulls away from you, licking at his lips, not missing anything you are giving him. A sigh leaves him when his eyes trail over the visible outline of your pussy.

“Please-“ You whimper, hips rolling slightly in the air and he almost came right there from that. The idea of you riding his face is the only thing he can think of right now, so he just pushes your ruined panties to the side, showing his mouth into your soaking cunt.

You yelp again, hand shooting to grip at his hair but it only makes you fall forward, basically squishing your whole bottom half into him. You immediately try to sit up, but he only pulls you further down. His tongue is everywhere. You are absolutely wrecked, teeth biting at your tongue to silence yourself, because how good is he?

You have never been eaten out like this before. The angle made his nose graze your clit just right and you don’t even have the strength to pull yourself up, concern about him breathing flying out the window. However Chan really doesn’t seem to care, happy you are the only thing he is breathing in. The way you just try to move away from the intense feeling, made his own hips jump. The grip he has on your legs, will propably make bruises later, but it actually made the feeling even better.

You think you are almost crying from the pleasure, drooling when his tongue breaches you and he shivers at your raw taste — delicious like a Michelin star meal. Your back arches at that, pushing yourself even harder against him. The shift makes him moan into you, pulling himself away from you for a moment, but you could still feel him working you up. “Ride my face-“ You gasp and whimper when his hand gives your right cheek a nasty slap, making you jump, clit hitting the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, baby…just like that – good girl.”

He isn’t holding you up anymore, just laying there as you shift nervously. The cuteness like you are, you are still slightly shy with your movements. It is honestly endearing, but right now he just wants you to suffocate him. He basically shoves you down on his face, one hand playing with your asscheek and the other gripping at your leg.

You feel sweat dripping down your forehead, whimpering. Chan helps you with your movements, before you finally start riding his face on your own, just like he wanted. He only groans into you, the sound vibrating around your clit, his lips wrapping around it. When he suck at it, pulling your inner labia into his mouth, you almost cum right there. Your hand comes down to caress his soft curls, completely opposite from your wild movements. You look down, eyes glossy, but not missing the hungry look he gives you in return.

You could already feel your lower belly rumbling in the very familiar feeling, completely lost in the moment. His pretty nose, which you always complimented, rubs against you in the most delicious way. Your mind is fuzzy, mouth hanging open when you start to feel the ecstasy, but then a loud unexpected noice startles you, making you jump.

“Are you guys okay in there?”

Your eyes fly wide open, falling on to equally frightened Chan. Your breathing is heavy, quietly trying to catch your breath with him, before he slightly lifts you up to answer Han. “All good!” He answers, voice raspy.

You look at him in confusion when he suddenly grabs you by your waist, giving you a small peak at his drenched face. You don’t even have time to apologize for the mess you did, head still fuzzy from your ruined orgasm, when he flings you up in the air and making you fall onto your back.

Your surprise gasp is unheard by his overly loud voice, like he just knew you would do that. “We’ll be right there-“ You don’t miss the cheeky grin on his lips, watching him kiss your pubic bone, before wrapping your legs around his head. “Just have to finish something…” He mumbles and at that he flattens his tongue, pressing it right at your puffy clit. Your hand quickly flies to your lips, crying out into your skin when he wildly moves his head side to side, almost missing Han’s answer.

“Okay! Just don’t eat each other.“

Oh, for sure…

You don’t even care that he could probably still hear your loud cry of pleasure as Chan basically devours you. Your legs start to tremble, back arching, a hand holding your bottom half down. You are losing your mind about how good he is, fingers tugging at his hair as he only suck harder. “I’m gonna cum – fuuuuck” He at your words, pulls his mouth lower, again shoving his tongue into your cunt.

“Cum babygirl, I want it.” Chan growls, head tilting up so your clit hits his nose again. Even if the position is starting to hurt, he will never complain about that pain ever, because the image of your eyes rolling into the back of your head, was definitely worth it.

Your whole body trembles, legs pressing his head even closer to you as the rope snaps. You don’t even hear yourself anymore, letting your lips open wide, moaning wildly in pleasure. You could feel yourself leaking all over his face. The high doesn’t even stop, because he doesn’t stop. You feel tear run down your face, sitting up, gasping as his only quickened is movements.

You almost want to scream at the burning feeling, hole fluttering around his tongue. “Please stop — I’m gonna cum again!” He only looks up at you, so innocently you can’t stop your hips tilting up to his face. As the second peak starts to approach your hand, falls to his, squeezing it, nails scratching his skin as the immense pleasure hits you again, now even more intense as you didn’t even have time to clam your body from the first. You see completely white, ears ringing as you fall back down in exhaustion, just letting him lick your cream all up, whole body shaking. Your heart beats wildly inside your chest, body slumping tiredly into the sheets. You don’t even feel him pulling away from your red, puffy pussy, neither him falling next to you.

When you feel a hand touching your cheek softly, moving away the wet strands of hair from your face, your eye peaks open slightly. You sighs in bliss, a drunk smile stretching across your lips at the look he gives you. “You, okay?” What kind of question is even that? You feel like you had out of body experience, still feeling the lingering burning sensation.

“Yeah.” You say, voice little, maybe from your screaming. You really don’t even care anymore about the guys hearing you as Chan gives you the most loving, soft kiss. You taste yourself on his lips, looking up at him, eyes tracing over the wetness coating his face. You are sure that every time you will look at him from now on, you will see him under you eating your cunt like there’s no tomorrow. Definitely one of the best memories you have of him.

You grin again, pulling yourself up, only slumping right back with a huff. Chan laughs at you, cooing, pulling you against him instead. You could feel how his own heart is jumping as your head hits his chest and you can’t help smiling further. “You know, you’re not the only one kind of obsessed.” You say, at his silence looking up at him.

He humms in question, brows furrowed, ignoring the sudden loud noises, like cheering, coming from the living room as you are the only thing he will ever put his attention into from now on.

“You have really nice ass.”

[whispers-whump]

Some writing advice

that I like to use when I write. None of this is meant to be taken as hard and fast rules, they’re just things I like to do/keep in mind when I’m writing and I thought maybe other people would enjoy! <3

Never say what you mean

This is an offshoot of the very common “show don’t tell” advice, which I think can be confusing in application and unhelpful for scenes where telling is actually the right move. Instead, I keep the advice to never say exactly what I mean in stories.

By using a combination of showing and telling to hint at what you really mean, you force your reader to think and figure it out on their own, which makes for a more satisfying reading experience.

You might show a character getting angry and defensive in response to genuine care and concern. You could tell the audience that the character doesn’t see/talk to their parents often. But never outright give the real meaning that the character feels unlovable because of their strained relationship with their parents and as a result they don’t know how to react to being cared for.

Your readers are smart, you don’t need to spoon feed them.

Be sparse with the important things

You know how in a lot of movies there’s that tense scene where a character is hiding from something/someone and you can only just see this person/thing chasing them through a crack in the door? You get a very small glimpse of whatever’s after the character, sometimes only shadows being visible.

Do that in your writing. Obscure the important things in scenes by overdescribing the unimportant and underdescribing the important.

You might describe the smell of a space, the type of wood the floor is made of, the sound of work boots moving slowly across the room, a flashlight in the character’s hand. And there’s a dead body, laying in a pool of blood in the far corner of the room, red soaking into the rug. Then move on, what kind of rug is it? What is the color, patterns, and type of fabric of the rug?

Don’t linger on the details of the body, give your reader’s imagination some room to work while they digest the mundane you give them.

Dialogue is there to tell your story too

There’s a lot of advice out there about how to make dialogue more realistic, which is absolutely great: read aloud to yourself, put breaks where you feel yourself take a breath, reword if you’re stuttering over your written dialogue. But sometimes, in trying to make dialogue sound more realistic, a little bit of its function is lost.

Dialogue is more than just what your characters say, dialogue should serve a purpose. It’s a part of storytelling, and it can even be a bridging part of your narration.

If you have a scene with a lot of internal conflict that is very narration-heavy, breaking it up with some spoken dialogue can be a way to give some variety to those paragraphs without moving onto a new idea yet; people talk to themselves out loud all of the time.

Dialogue is also about what your characters don’t say. This can mean the character literally doesn’t say anything, they give half-truths, give an expected answer rather than the truth (“I’m fine”), omit important information, or outright lie.

Play with syntax and sentence structure

You’ve heard this advice before probably. Short, choppy sentences and a little onomatopoeia work great for fast-paced action scenes, and longer sentences with more description help slow your pacing back down.

That’s solid advice, but what else can you play with? Syntax and sentence structure are more than just the length of a sentence.

Think about things like: repetition of words or ideas, sentence fragments, stream of consciousness writing, breaking syntax conventions, and the like. Done well, breaking some of those rules we were taught about language can be a more compelling way to deliver an emotion, theme, or idea that words just can’t convey.

Would love to hear any other tips and tricks other people like to use, so feel free to share!!!

[retrosabers]

I am so glad you've found your spark again to write!

Could I please request a smutty Logan fic with "I can't control myself around you" and "Fuck, make that noise again"

Thank you!!

thank you anon :( that genuinely means a lot to me, i hope you know that! sorry this took a little while, my brain was trying to cook up the most delicious scenario possible and this is what it came up with. thank you so much for your patience & your request! i hope you enjoy 😋

𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔.

logan howlett x fem!reader

summary: logan shows you just how much he likes seeing you in his clothes.

contains: smut content below the cut. MINORS DNI. oral (fem receiving), fingering, a wee bit of overstimulation if you squint, swearing, logan being hot as fuck per usual, somewhat rushed ending

word count: 2k

it’s nearly impossible for a man like logan to die.

the adamantium fused to his skeleton coupled with insane regenerative capabilities meant there were only a select few scenarios that could end his life. those usually involved a lot of science; insanely specific logistics requiring lengthy explanation.

but this? the simple sight before him? just might be what takes him out.

you’re standing in the kitchen making coffee clad in nothing but one of his flannels, humming along to some random tune that was playing on the radio. it shocks him, stopping the man dead in his tracks on his way out of the bedroom. despite having spent the night with you a few times before, your relationship was still fairly new, and clothes sharing was one of the few intimacies you had yet to indulge in.

until today.

a mixture of emotions begin to stir in his chest. logan’s heart warms over the domesticity of it, realizing he didn’t want to wake up any other morning if it wasn’t like this. if it wasn’t with you. there’s a hint of possession, knowing his scent was lingering on your skin. he hopes that maybe you’ll wear his clothes out of the house one day, a physical reminder to everyone around you that you were his, and only his. the lust hits him the strongest as he really takes a second to look you over.

the hem of the shirt sits at the top of your thighs. logan knows if you bend over in any capacity, he’ll catch a glimpse of the skimpy little panties he ripped off your body last night. his favorite pair to be exact. one of the sleeves hangs slightly off your shoulder, granting him a peak at some of the marks left just a few hours ago. the man smirks to himself, recalling how you mewled beneath him while he bit and sucked at the delicate skin of your neck. then, when you finally turn around and catch him staring, you give him a bird’s eye view of your cleavage where the shirt was barely buttoned.

you look like something out of a dream. and he almost can’t believe you’re real.

“it’s rude to stare you know,” you tease him, leaning your hip against the counter. it makes the shirt ride up even further and logan nearly salivates.

god, do you even know what you’re doing to him?

logan moves from his position against the wall, pushing off it and slowly stalking towards you. his voice is rough and gravelly, still heavy with sleep.

“can’t help it bub. not when you look this good.”

you scoff. his large hands come to squeeze at your hips while yours rest across his bare chest, softly scratching at the layer of hair that sits atop it. “could say the same thing about you handsome.”

logan hums in content as he presses his lips against yours. it's slow and saccharine, a nonverbal good morning that makes you melt into him. his hands wander across your figure, caressing every curve he’s gotten to know like the back of his hand. when his palms slip under the hem of the shirt and begin to paw at your ass, you sigh into his mouth.

“i like you in my clothes,” he mumbles against your skin as his mouth travels to your neck, pressing languid, sensual kisses against the blooming marks.

“yeah?” you breathe out in reply, hands finding purchase in his messy hair.

“yeah,” he replies right next to your ear, voice dripping in desire. “let me show you just how much.”

you hum, amused by his arousal. “last night wasn’t enough for you, bub?”

it’s logan’s turn to laugh. a deep, almost condescending sound that vibrates through your entire body.

you whimper at the loss of contact when he pulls away, only to let out a squeal seconds later when he hoists you onto the countertop in one swift motion. you flush, eyes widening at the display of his strength. the way he could manhandle you with ease was something you had yet to get used to.

“darlin’ you should know by now i can’t control myself around you,” he coos. “especially when you’re parading around lookin’ like this.”

you preen at his words, letting out the softest little sound and he gleams with pride. his eyes rake over you once more, setting your skin ablaze with all the hunger that was swimming in those hazel irises. one hand rests snugly around your hip, while the other inches towards the apex of your thighs.

logan’s thumb rubs soft circles into your skin, his pointer finger teasing the waistband of your underwear. your breath hitches at the touch, a barely there gesture that makes warmth pool in your belly. how he manages to get you so worked up over so little, you have yet to discover. he retracts his digit, letting the elastic snap against your skin. you flinch in his hold and he chuckles.

“relax,” he says, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth. “i gotcha.”

there’s no better way to start your day than by watching logan sink to his knees in front of you. the early morning light peeks in through the curtains, casting a golden halo around his head while he starts his path up your bare legs towards where you needed him most. he looks heaven sent, and you silently thank whatever gods existed for the beautiful man kneeling between your thighs.

his kisses against your skin grow sloppier the closer he gets to your core. logan inhales deeply, catching wind of your arousal. the scent was maddening, a perfume he could never grow tired of. knowing that he was behind it, that you were just as hungry for him as he was for you, rials him up even more.

his voice is low and sensual, bordering on smug when he states, “clearly last night wasn’t enough for you either.”

logan yanks the hem of his shirt up, exposing your lower half. he presses a wet kiss against your clothed mound, inhaling your sweet aroma. you sigh, your hips moving forward on their own accord, desperate to feel more of him.

“logan,” you breathe out. “don’t tease.”

“don’t tease?” he parrots your question. “you’re one to talk.”

“s’just a shirt.” you reason meekly, still not fully awake yet, and somehow already drunk on logan.

“not to me darlin’” his breath is hot and heavy against your cunt as he finally grants your wish, pulling your panties to the side and licking a long stripe up your center. “not to me.”

you’re almost embarrassed over the moan that comes out of your mouth, but god do you feel good. logan doesn’t waste any time, yanking your underwear down your legs before he starts to devour you like a man starved. his tongue darts back and forth between your entrance and your swollen clit, a delicious rotation that has you feeling boneless in record time. you throw your head back, hand reaching out to grip onto his brown locks.

its moments like these where you wonder how you were ever with anyone else before him. nothing and no one could compare to the pleasure that logan brought. his desire for you was never fully satiated, and when you look down to catch logan staring back at you with lidded eyes, you don’t think yours will ever be either.

“feel good?” he asks rhetorically, knowing the way your body responds is answer enough. all you can muster out of your mouth is a high pitched whine as he slips two fingers into your entrance without warning.

logan’s cock twitches in his boxers at the sound. “fuck, make that noise again for me baby.”

with the combination of his fingers pumping in and out of you, and his lips sucking harshly on your clit, you unintentionally obey his command. it’s music to logan’s ears, encouraging him to pick up the pace.

you can feel the muscles in your abdomen growing taught. a sign that your orgasm was approaching. logan, ever the observer, yanks you closer, throwing your legs over his shoulders and dangling your ass off the edge of the kitchen counter.

with the new and better angle, your back arches, causing the shirt to fall even further off your shoulder and exposing more of your flushed skin. with your eyes fluttering and your mouth dropped open in the most perfect pout, logan thinks you’ve never looked more beautiful.

not as beautiful as when you’re cumming however. that part he was determined to have happen sooner than later.

“fuck,” you preen, beginning to grind against his face as your hips fall into a steady rhythm. “don’t stop.”

“wasn’t planning on it.” he mumbles against your folds, his tongue now accompanying the thick digits.

his cockiness only expedites your release. with one hand gripping the counter and the other tugging at your boyfriend’s hair, you teeter close to the edge. at the pull of his locks, logan groans into your pussy, his nose nudging at your clit. the shockwaves that spread through your body feel like wildfire, and it’s the most wonderful way to burn.

“gonna cum for me honey?” logan questions, curling his fingers in just the right way, knowing that’s the spot to hit to guarantee your climax. you nod, too focused on the growing pressure in your core to speak actual words. the only thing you’re capable of right now is a string of curses with logan’s name sprinkled in between. it falls from your lips like a prayer as your orgasm creeps up the back of your neck.

when it hits, it washes over you like a tidal wave, drowning you in the most electrifying kind of bliss. with one final, loud moan, your hips jolt foward, thighs tightening around logan’s head all the while his ministrations continue. he always rode out your high until you were gently shoving him off from the overstimulation.

“lo,” you breathe out, slowly coming back down to reality. he hums between your legs in acknowledgement, ceasing his actions and offering one final kiss to your sensitive clit before rising to his feet.

his already sleep mused hair was ruffled even further from your grabby hands. there’s a dreamy sheen in his eyes, from the early morning or your release soaking the lower half of his face, you’re not sure. whatever it was, he was beaming, smiling at you with so much affection and adoration you felt like you could explode. a stark contrast to the filth that took place mere moments ago.

“if i had known that wearing your shirt was going to result in that, i would’ve stolen it a long time ago,” you joke, pulling up the sleeve to cover yourself.

logan snickers, slotting himself between your spread legs and finding your lips once more.

“looks way better on you anyways” he murmurs between kisses, ravaging your mouth while caressing your jaw. tasting yourself on his tongue was always a dizzying thing, even more so at the thought of what was in store as you felt his very prominent bulge rubbing against your thigh.

“is that so?” you challenge, tracing your fingers along the trail of hair that travels below his waistline. you don’t miss the way his muscles flex under your touch, the way he grows even harder at the jest.

logan pulls back, the picture of sex and smugness as the corner of his mouth turns up in a smirk. he makes a show of sucking your juices off his fingers, groaning dramatically as they enter between his spit soaked lips. when he nods in the direction of the bedroom, you’re already getting wet again, knowing exactly what the rest of your morning is going to entail.

“go in there, and lay down with your pretty little ass up for me will you?”

you quirk a brow, loving to push his buttons. little acts of defiance always made the end result worth it after all.

logan smacks his palm against your bare ass, taking pleasure in the little yelp you let out and the dazed look in your eyes.

“m’not done with you just yet.”

thanks for reading! <3

[dollaches]

— she lying to me, im lying to her

♡ fwb!mean! ellie williams x fem! reader

synopsis: after you sleep with one of ellie’s worst enemies, she reminds you who you belong to

a/n: toxic ellie u will always be famous

warnings: DON’T LIKE DON’T READ ! — toxic relationships, friends with benefits, useless lesbians, cursing, rough kissing, hate sex, scissoring (YIPPEE), fingering (r! receiving), a little bit of her eating u out, cum play (?), cunt slaps, threats of her belt being used lol, degrading, pet names, hoe ellie williams, abby anderson mentioned, lots of spit as usual, manhandling, overall aggressive lol

wc: 4k

This game was almost too easy to play, as it had been ongoing for nearly a year. 

You and Ellie would fuck, she’d ignore you for a month, and then make some excuse to come and see you. She’d act as if nothing had happened, as if you had no idea that she was fucking other girls even though she purposely made out with people in front of you at parties. 

But you weren’t one to let her have all the fun, as you were finally fed up with her just using you like you’re any other girl that is dumb enough to believe that Ellie truly cares about them. 

So, you made the choice to see other people but unlike Ellie, your revenge on her was silent. You let her hear through rumors about who you were sleeping with but never truly appeared at any events she was at so she could have proof of it. 

You were driving her insane without ever having to see her, as now she would immediately scan any room she was in for your presence, hoping for the smallest glimpse of you. The absence of your presence was punishment enough for her and she refused to back down, pretending as if her jealousy was warranted in some way. 

Her calls and texts went unanswered, her frustration only building with each passing day that she was denied the ability to see you. All the while you couldn’t help but silently hope that she was at least slightly upset and finally getting a taste of her own medicine. 

Unfortunately for you, Ellie is not one to let things run on for too long before she starts speaking her mind. 

After two months of radio silence from you, she is standing outside your apartment door, her lips set in a firm line. You were simply settled on the couch, some horror movie playing quietly in the background as you mindlessly scrolled on your phone. 

Yet the sound of a harsh knock on the front door yanks you from your daze and you flinch in the slightest, your brows furrowing as you register how late at night it is. 

Quietly, you make your way towards the door, your hands pressing against the cool wood of the door as you look through the peephole. Much to your surprise, you can see Ellie standing right outside with her eyes burning holes through the door with how firm her gaze is. 

You have to shove down your excitement, feeling proud of yourself for getting the high and mighty Ellie Williams to be the one showing up to your doorstep late at night. With a deep breath, you unlock the door and open it up just enough for her to be able to see your face and the slightest bit of your body. 

“It’s late, why’re you here?” you immediately question in a disinterested tone. You don’t meet her gaze, staring at the wall behind her instead as she stands before you. 

Your tone makes Ellie’s eyes narrow, not used to being treated in such a way. She was used to you letting her in, forgiving her time and time again for her mistakes. But this was all new territory for her and she had to play her cards carefully. 

“Nice to see you too” she scoffs, her arms crossing over her chest out of sheer frustration. “Just wanted to see you for a bit, maybe smoke a little if you’re up for it” she offers, trying to keep her cool and deciding not to bring up the fact that you’ve been blatantly ignoring her. 

“Sorry, busy tonight” you lie through your teeth, as your plans were to rot away on the couch until you could muster enough strength to get up to go to your bed. You can see the anger building in Ellie and it feels so good to know you are making her feel the same pain that you felt countless times. 

“Y’know it’s common fucking courtesy to look at someone when holding a conversation” she seethes, not liking the way you’re dodging every single one of her attempts to get a good look at you. “And busy doing what?” she questions, before something dangerous flickers across her features. 

Before you can give another snarky reply, she’s making an attempt to shove the door open, standing on her tippy toes to try and see past you and into your apartment. “Who’s here?” she questions, immediately jumping to the conclusion that you had another hookup planned for tonight. 

You keep your hand placed firmly on the door, pushing it closed as much as you could without completely slamming it in her face. “No one is here, can you back off?” you huff, finding it hard to keep your position with how strong Ellie is. 

She finally stops pushing on the door, her brows still furrowed as she looks at you. “Then what are you so busy with?” she questions swiftly, not missing a beat. 

You can only shrug your shoulders, not really having an excuse ready. “I’m just busy, okay? Plus it’s not like you should even care. You’ve got tons of girls just begging for you to choose them for one night” you state bitterly, your mind flashing through each time you had seen Ellie with another girl. 

Your snappy remark didn’t seem to phase her, in fact it brought a slight grin to her face. “So you’re being a bitch because you’re jealous, is that it?” she questions, now seeming amused over the situation. 

Ellie’s harsh words make you wish you never opened the door, as she always played dirty during fights with you. “I’m not jealous of anything. Sleep with whoever the fuck you want and I’ll do the same” you say with an annoyingly fake smile just to get on her nerves. 

And it works, as your words remind her that she had heard rumors from mutual friends that you had slept with Abby, who she just so happens to despise with every fiber of her being. 

Acting only based on her emotions, she shoves your door open, stepping inside quickly and shutting it. “What? So just because I’m not giving you a ton of attention suddenly you need to go out and fuck the one person I hate the most?” she questions, her voice raising in the slightest. 

Your eyes widened after she managed to get inside, your mind going a mile a minute as you try to think of something quickly. “Fuck you” is all you can manage to spit out, your anger nearly making your whole body shake. 

Ellie just shakes her head, her shit eating grin only growing. “You already did that, remember? But maybe that’s what this is all about, huh? You’re just acting out cause no one has been fucking you properly?” she questions mockingly, taking a step closer and completely invading your personal space. 

The accusation makes you want to scream at her and yet at the same time it stirs something within you, some awful part of you that knows the tension within you would be eased if Ellie were to touch you. 

But you choose to let your anger speak instead. 

“I don’t wanna fuck someone who sleeps around with every slut that’ll open their legs” you scoff, not even thinking of the consequences of what you had said. 

A thick silence hangs over the two of you for a moment, the lack of movement or noise from Ellie making your stomach sink as you watch her expression twist into one of pure anger. 

“Why do you always have to run your mouth? I don’t care about those other girls, I came here because I want to be with you but you’re shutting me out and having a goddamn pity party” she spits, absolutely despising the tone you had taken with her. 

Your tough exterior began to crack in the slightest at her words, silently cursing yourself for the butterflies that filled your tummy from her saying she only wants to be with you right now. You part your lips countless times in an attempt to say something, but your mind is growing hazier by the second. 

Ellie can sense that she’s got you right where she wants you and she is more than willing to take advantage of that. “See how easy it is to just be quiet for once?” she questions, leaning down so her lips are inches from your own and suddenly you are hyper aware of just how close she is to your body. 

You only nod your head, no longer in any mood to argue, needing Ellie more than anything in this moment. She hums in approval of your silence, finally connecting her lips with your own. 

It’s so rough, the both of you expressing your hatred through physical touch that left both of you gasping for air. She tugs on your lip with her teeth, purposely biting harder than usual just to prove a point. You return the favor by letting your hand tangle in her hair, tugging roughly as her lips move against your own. 

You know you shouldn’t be doing this. She’s using you but fuck it, you’re using her too and at this point you can’t give two shits about what you should be doing. 

She lets out a particularly loud moan when you tug on her hair, finally pulling back from the kiss, only for a string of spit to connect your lips to her own. Without a single word, she is dragging you towards your own bedroom that she had been in countless times. 

You don’t even fight back, only snatching your wrist away from her once you reach the bedroom. Ellie only glances at you before rolling her eyes, using the back of her hand to wipe her lips that were still glossed with spit. 

She tries to tug up your shirt but you shove her hands off, pulling it off by yourself instead. “Unlike those girls you fuck, I actually have a brain. Don’t need your fucking help” you mutter bitterly as you pull down your pajama shorts, discarding them onto the floor without a single ounce of care. 

You are left completely bare on top, Ellie’s eyes dropping shamelessly towards your tits that were now on display. Even with the situation, you were fuming, and yet Ellie made no attempts to console you. 

“Just get on the bed and shut up” she mumbles, lifting her own white tee and unbuckling her belt, her jeans hitting the floor with a soft clatter. You really aren’t about to argue with her, as the only time you’ll obey her is when you know she’s about to give you the best fuck of your life. 

You crawl onto the plush bed, feeling the mattress dip as Ellie settles between your legs. Your panties are uncomfortable when they are soaked by your arousal, your hips twitching unintentionally as Ellie glances down to where your underwear was still covering you. 

“You told me you have a brain but you kept these on?” she questions, yanking at the waistband of your underwear down to give you a hint of what to do. “I’m trying to fuck you, not sit here and have a sleepover or some shit” she mocks, making you feel stupid over something so small. 

“I do have a brain, asshole” you mutter, shimmying out of your underwear and pushing them onto the corner of the bed so they are out of the way. It’s as if Ellie can feel relief washing over her at the sight of you being completely bare for her once more, so vulnerable and all for her. 

“You’ve got a smart mouth too” she quips, tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear quickly before laying down between your legs, carelessly pushing your thighs open so she can get a perfect view of your cunt. 

You ignore her comment, not really wanting to prove her right. The way she handles you is so rough, the frustration of these last few weeks weighing down on her as she finally takes you in completely. 

Without warning, she gives your pussy a firm smack, the pain blossoming from your core and spreading enough to make you flinch. “Pathetic, stupid” she mutters, delivering another hit before you can even try to get away from the harsh treatment. 

Each hit has you crying out, low whines leaving your lips as pleasure and pain blur together enough to leave you lightheaded. 

“I have to find out from other people that you decided to go out and fuck Anderson” she continues on, her eyes focused on your core that was undeniably aching. “And then you give me all this fucking attitude, treating me like shit just because you’re a little jealous” she huffs, one hand gripping your waist with a bruising grip to ensure you can’t escape the punishment. 

“M’ sorry, Jesus, I’m sorry!” you groan, your brows knitting as pain overcomes every inch of your being and yet it feels too good, the way her hits are landing against your clit making you gasp weakly. 

“No, you’re not” she interjects, although her hits finally cease, making your eyes drop down to where she had settled between your thighs. “But you will be” she adds on with a pleased hum, your cunt pulsing with pain as she admires her own work. 

Just as the punishment began, it ended. The soft pads of her fingers gently run along your slick folds to soothe the pain. The solace of it makes you whimper, a soft curse leaving your lips as your head drops back against a pillow. 

Going weeks without her touch was too much to bear and you couldn’t believe your plan actually worked but you didn’t have any time to dwell on the matter. 

With you being reduced to a complete mess, Ellie can’t stop a sick smile from taking form. “Had to hurt you just like you hurt me, sweetheart. You understand that, don’t you?” she asks in a voice that feigns sympathy, lazily rubbing your clit as she focuses more on your body’s reactions to her touch. 

The way your body relaxes despite the intensity of the moment is proof of how much Ellie’s presence soothes you and that is enough to make her ego grow even larger. 

You nod slightly at her words, weak moans tumbling from your lips. “I know, Els, I know” you breathe out, feeling the way her thumb lowers to gather more of your slick before smearing it against your clit is enough to make you let out a light groan. 

The way you comply so easily makes her feel like she finally has control over the situation once more and that only makes her want to ruin you more. “Tell me you’re sorry. Tell me that you won’t ever fuck anyone else while you’re seeing me” she demands, spitting on your cunt and beginning to ease her middle finger into your tight heat. 

“I’m sorry, okay? I won’t fuck anyone else, I swear” you state in a shaky voice, your moans filling the air around you as she pumps her finger in and out of you with ease. You’re lying through your teeth and even if both of you know that, Ellie can pretend to believe you in that moment. 

“That’s what I thought” she quips, lowering her head to messily lap at your clit as she adds another finger. The touches that should be intimate feel so dirty, so utterly wrong but there is no way you can feel bad when there is so much pleasure clouding your mind. 

She’s always messy, uncaring of the way her spit runs down your cunt and onto her fingers that are now curling at the most perfect angle. It’s as if she is desperate to make you come, desperate to prove that she is the only one that can make you shut your mouth for once. 

“Ellie, slow down” you whine breathlessly, not even truly meaning your words but you’re so overwhelmed that you can’t think of anything else to say. She refuses to yield, needing to taste you more than anything. 

Instead she chooses to suck harshly at your clit, slow and deep thrusts of her fingers making your eyes roll back. No words are needed between the two of you, the obscene sounds of her eating you out while she fingers you being enough to satisfy you both. 

She only pulls back to make a demand, still so close to your cunt that you can feel her breath fanning against you. “You better say my fucking name when you come or I swear to god I’ll use my belt to smack that pretty pussy of yours” she threatens, burying her face between your thighs the second she’s done speaking. 

And you are absolutely going to obey her, knowing that she will follow through with her words without hesitation. Your moans build, each one growing more high pitched than the last as you near your orgasm. 

Ellie keeps the perfect pace, the way she is moaning against you sending vibrations throughout your cunt that were just what you needed to push you over. “Ellie!” you cry out, your voice coming out far weaker than you intended. 

She always makes sure to fuck you through your high, letting you ride it out as long as possible. It’s almost hard for you to come back down, the feeling suddenly becoming too much as over sensitivity quickly sets in. 

You try to push Ellie’s head away, whining as you make a weak attempt to get her to ease up. “No, sensitive” you mutter, your mind barely able to form proper sentences anymore. Reluctantly, Ellie pulls back and gently eases her fingers from your cunt. 

“Missed your taste, so fucking good” she sighs as she quickly runs her tongue along her lower lip. You barely register her words, only giving a tired groan in response as you try to catch your breath. 

Ellie scoffs at the sight of you, already used up just from the slightest touch from her. “Don’t think you’ve learned your lesson yet” she sighs, shaking her head as if to scold you. Her words are enough to pull you from your daze, your eyebrows raising in the slightest. 

You glance in the direction of the closet, knowing a strap is hidden away that only Ellie, Abby, and a few other hookups know about. You never wanted anyone to bring one, as at least you knew the one you owned would only be used on you and you alone. 

“You wanna fuck me?” you question with a slight smugness in your tone even after you just got turned into a complete mess by Ellie. The idea leaves you eager, knowing rough fucks with her tend to be some of the best. 

Much to your surprise, Ellie makes no movements towards the closet, instead finally deciding to shed her sports bra and boxers. She is left completely naked, a rare sight for you if you’re telling the truth but it makes your heart beat far faster than usual. 

“I’m gonna fuck you, sure. But I’m not using that strap, fuck that” she sneers, finally joining you back on the bed. Her words confuse you, as you’re not exactly in the right state of mind to be processing information. 

That is until she starts manhandling you, pushing one of your legs up and slotting herself against you so her cunt is brushing up against yours in the slightest. “I don’t need that shit to make you come, unlike those losers you fuck. Gonna make sure you feel it when I come, gonna make you remember that you’re all mine” she huffs, her anger returning and burning deep within her. 

You are completely at her mercy, your cunt sore from all that it had taken tonight yet you were still greedy enough to want more. She doesn’t waste any time, finally pushing her cunt right up against yours and rocking her hips slowly to find a proper pace. 

The way you can feel her clit pulsing against yours makes you moan, her cunt completely soaked from being able to get you off so easily. It’s absolutely filthy, the way her pace picks up with ease so that there's a squelch from the wetness shared between the two of you as she grinds her hips like it is the last thing she will ever be able to do. 

Even in this moment of unbridled lust, your mind runs through all the times you’d seen her with another girl once more. The memories make your stomach burn with anger and you don’t want to bite back your words anymore. 

“I, fuck that feels good— I fucking hate you. You’re such a dick all the fucking time” you groan, although your actions don’t match your words. You are frantically rubbing up against her, letting her clit brush against yours perfectly so that you’re both reduced to moaning messes. 

Your insults only get Ellie more worked up, her heart practically soaring as you confess to hating her. “Yeah, sweetheart? Well I hate you too and you’re such a fucking bitch all the damn time” she scoffs, her brows furrowing as she glances down, trying to memorize the way you look in this moment so she can get off to the memory for weeks to come. 

Her heated words make you grin, the two of you fucking against each other like rabbits in heat, only focused on pleasure and nothing more. Her slicks mixes with your own, heavy grunts leaving Ellie’s lips as she does her best to keep fucking you at the perfect angle for the both of you. 

“Gonna come inside you, baby” she mutters, the filthy words rolling off her tongue as if it were nothing. You know she just means that she’s gonna come but it’s enough to push you over the edge, your nails digging into Ellie’s soft hip as the two of you come at the same time. 

The room is a mess of moans and groans, Ellie giving a few more weak thrusts before her hips still. With blurry vision, you can make out the beads of sweat rolling down her forehead, taking in the way her nostrils flare in an attempt to get more oxygen. 

It feels like a privilege to see her like this, completely fucked out. “Christ” she mutters, shakily pulling her hips away from your own but quickly moving one hand between her thighs. 

For a moment you are confused, watching her movements as closely as possible. She uses her fingers to gather her own arousal before recklessly pushing her fingers back into your cunt and fucking them into you slowly. 

She was fucking her cum back into you, keeping her promise that she had made earlier. And holy fuck did it feel good, being completely claimed and used by her. 

You manage to let out a few broken moans, grabbing at her wrist and trying to tug it away. “S’ in there, promise. Just can’t take anymore” you whisper weakly, and within a second she has eased her fingers out of you so that you can recover. 

After all, she had done what she intended to do and she could finally feel the tension leaving her body. She falls onto the bed beside you, her breathing just as frantic as your own. 

Ellie was never one to show any sort of affection after sex, always being quick to pull on her clothes and out the door. However, tonight she pulled you close to her own body, burying her face into the crook of your neck and breathing in your scent to soothe herself. 

“I missed you” she mutters, no traces of malice in her tone. It is so hard to register that she is being truly vulnerable for possibly the first time ever but you carefully wrap your arms around her anyways, returning her affection. “Missed you too” you whisper back, letting your eyes flutter shut as you feel the flames of anger that had been burning for so long being put out in an instant. 

You knew she would be gone in the morning with no explanation, but for this moment she was all yours and no one could take that away. 

[almostfoxglove]

BLOCK PARTY

written for @auteurdelabre's TROPE OFF! challenge & a special thank you to @jolapeno for coming up with this idea - ilysm!

RATING: Explicit (18+) | PAIRING: Joel Miller x f!Reader WORD COUNT: 4.6k | TROPE: FAKE RELATIONSHIP CW: Tooth-rotting fluff, so much soft!joel, a tiny bit of protective!joel as a treat.

SUMMARY: After your ex moves into the neighborhood, Joel offers to pose as your boyfriend at the annual block party. It shouldn't be hard to pretend for a night, since he's hopelessly into you.

read on ao3 | almostfoxglove masterlist

Joel remembers the day you moved into the house on the corner perfectly—that orange craftsman with the cute triangle yard and a pergola on which the last owners let their wisteria die, left empty for nearly half a year. He’d just gotten home from a job, sweat-stained and spent, desperate for a shower when he’d heard the hum of an unfamiliar car. He’s not curious by nature, keeps happily to himself, but that day he found himself spying out through the picket of window between his curtains, wondering who it might be.

Thank god he did.

Thank god, too, that no one else bought that house. Has a little wrap around porch, a red door. Whole block wanted it—hell, Joel even heard the couple left of him consider it one evening. We could sell, one had said, hushed and conspiratorial, then buy that one.

But they didn’t, and a few weeks later you and your beat-up hatchback rolled up into the driveway, gifting Joel one measly glimpse of the back of your head as you rushed inside. No sight of you the next day; you kept the curtains drawn. But two evenings later a moving truck squealed up the quiet street and Joel, well. Joel happened to be near the windows when the truck happened to stop outside your orange house and happened to catch a look at you slogging down from the porch to roll up the back of the van with a distant grunt, unveiling your boxes and towered belongings.

He was pretty much a goner right then, right there. 

Because you looked miserable, an Atlas lugging the world on your shoulders. Dark shadows clinging to the hollows of your cheeks. Your hair pulled back and greasy, your t-shirt a size too big, puddled at the hem with a stain. And maybe he’s getting soft or was from the start, because against his better judgment and the complaints of all his tired joints, Joel jogged out of his house and right on up to you. Offered to help you carry it all inside.

Took an hour to trek the boxes in, twenty minutes to tetris the couch, and another thirty for the rest of the furniture. One lampshade broke, for which Joel will never forgive himself but you swore it was fine, insisting it wasn’t one you liked, that it belonged to an ex. 

The whole evening sped by and bruised blue, and Joel’s stomach sank just a little when it was done. Though his body howled and ached, he wouldn’t have minded if it’d taken eight more hours to haul all that shit into your house. Might’ve offered to help you unpack if that wouldn’t have been a creepy thing to do.  But you shook his hand in thanks, gave him your name and a stiff smile, promising him dinner, or muffins, or whatever the fuck neighbors do as you walked him to the door with the urgency of a vampire who has only a few minutes left to black out all the windows and doors before sunrise. Hurrying him out, wanting to be alone.

When his own front door was latched, the house dead in its quiet, Joel swore to himself that once you got settled, he’d find some way to tell you that you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen, that the caw of laughter you let out when he’d dropped the foot of your couch on his ankle was the best fucking sound even if it did bruise purple and green, that all the furniture you own is somehow perfect and warm and exactly what he’d never think to buy but would love to come home to, and that just shaking your hand made him feel like a kid again. That he’d pretty much do anything to be the one who puts a smile on your face.

But you’ve lived across the street three years now and he’s never told you. 

Can’t now. It’s too late. You’re friends.

And anyway, these days you smile plenty on your own; you don’t need him. Took the better part of a year, but you perked up. Transformed that triangle yard into an Eden, built trellises for sweet peas and tomato vines. Every year, bushels of strawberry plants bloom in summer and rows of squash unfurl in autumn. Stalks of bulb plants flower every month right on cue. Your birdfeeders never vacant, the little wooden house driven into the yard on a stake dizzy with mason bees in spring.

Three years after you moved in, no one would ever believe Joel if he told them how you’d looked that first day. Her? Can’t picture that girl sad. Her? The one who’s always smiling? You’re messing with me.

Now, both of you swaying on his porch swing—looking out into the rutted wasteland of backyard he swears one day he’ll landscape—Joel watches that old shadow cross your face as you lift your lemonade to your chewed-up lips. He can see it. The light in your eyes swishing dark like you’ve drawn the curtains. For three years he’s watched you build yourself up, coax yourself into the sunshine, only to have it extinguished by your ex—an ex who’s moved in just five houses down.

It might kill him to see you like this again.

Joel might kill the bastard just to prevent you any more harm. Burn that goddamn house to the ground. He’s glad that he broke that lamp when you moved in. Not that he says.

“C’mere,” he says, stretching out one arm, and without hesitating—without even turning your head to look at him—you sink against his side, cheek squished to his chest. A torture and miracle, the gift of your touch. How you have, over the years, decided to trust him. 

“Of all the fucking neighborhoods to—” you start to say, but your voice cracks, betrays you, and there’s a jagged edge to your next breath that makes Joel’s whole body yank with pain. “Of all the fucking neighborhoods for him to choose.”

“I know, darlin’,” Joel mumbles, resting his chin on the crown of your head. Praying he doesn’t imagine the way your body deflates at his touch.

“Block party’s gonna suck,” you sigh, and if he closes his eyes Joel can almost imagine that this is something that it’s not. That if he wanted to, he could kiss you right now, touch you properly. Pet and lick and fuck every thought and worry right out of your head. That your heart’s racing even half the speed his is right now. 

You must hear it, he thinks—with the shell of your ear resting so near that traitorous organ—but if you do you don’t say a word.

Joel squeezes your shoulder. “Don’t gotta go alone,” he says. 

This stiffens your shoulders, holds your breath. You peel yourself from his side and evening sun paints your face orange as a clementine, gilds your eyes with tendrils of gold. Your brows pinch together so sweetly, curving down above your nose as a laugh rises to your lips. “Right,” you chuckle. “Sure.”

“I mean it,” Joel says, and takes his arm off you to sit up straighter, rocking the swing. “Could go together.”

He’s not sure why you look so surprised. You’re friends. You go places together. Lunch, the movies, to the grocery store. Shit, you drove him home loopy from the dentist after they cracked out his wisdom teeth. Took photos of him after you waddled him into his house, drugged up and chipmunk-cheeked. Relished showing him every snapshot for weeks afterward, giggling and pinching his face until he blushed. 

Going to the annual block party together seems a hell of a lot more neighborly than that.

“What,” you say, still smiling at him like he’s crazy. “And you’ll pretend to be my boyfriend?”

It’s possible Joel’s heart stops. All his thoughts certainly do. All sound, reasonable logic floats away until all that matters in the world is your face, your gob-smacked smile. The dissonance of what he was offering and what you heard.

“If you want,” Joel hears himself say.

And that’s that. He digs his own grave.

If anyone was around to see Joel’s face when he first lays eyes on the guy, they’d probably assume you used to date the devil himself. Jaw grinding, arms crossed tightly over his chest, every nerve flayed and hair on end—doesn’t seem to matter how much you assured him that your ex isn’t a bad person, Joel hates the guy. If he were a younger man, as reckless as he’d once been, he’d knock the guy on his ass for daring to step foot in the neighborhood, let alone buy up a place.

You’re with Joel in your front yard showing off the mason bees that dart in and out of their paper tubes when something flickers in the corner of Joel’s eye—a man running on the sidewalk, earbuds in, sweat pooled in a V on the front of his t-shirt. He does a double take at the sight of you. 

Joel squares his shoulders.

The guy comes to a jogging halt, pops an earbud out as he calls your name, and Joel’s heart might rip clean out of his chest when your face falls at the sound of his voice, all the pride in your smile snuffed in the blink of an eye. You turn so slowly. Wave a little sheepishly. “Hi.”

“Do you—” the guy starts to ask, his bright eyes flickering between you and your orange house.

You nod. “Three years now.”

His eyes damn near pop out of his skull—this, at least, is one small comfort. He had no idea you lived here. He’s not following you or nothing. As you rub the back of your neck, suddenly quiet, Joel hears your voice in his head saying, You’ll pretend to be my boyfriend? 

Guess that starts now if you wanna sell it. At least that’s what Joel tells himself as he takes a small step closer and settles his hand on the small of your back over your t-shirt. Swears he can feel your every tiny twitch beneath his palm, every degree of your body heat. There’s just one second of lag before you inch closer, too, making a shrew of his nervous heart. Blood races in his veins; his stomach turns to molten gold.

A twitch snags in your ex’s cheek and Joel’s lips tighten, fighting back the smug urge to smile. Tucked against his side, you look up at Joel and he can’t help feeling like next to you is exactly where he belongs. Perfect, you smile before drawing your eyes away, and slip your arm around his waist. 

“Sorry,” you say, grinning in a way Joel’s not seen you manage since this jackass showed up. “This is Joel. My— uh—boyfriend.”

Maybe heaven is one beautiful lie.

Joel must be a greedy man, because he slips his hand up your spine to wrap his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his chest. It’s either the best or worst feeling in the world, the way you don’t resist for a second. The way you melt against him, your hand gripping at the hem of his t-shirt over his hip. 

“Right,” says your ex, still doe-eyed when he meets Joel’s blackened stare. “Clark. S’nice to meet you, man.”

Joel hmphs , gives him fuck all but a stiff nod, and for just one second you turn your face into his chest like you’re trying to smother a laugh. Pride has never filled him quite as quickly as it does now, knowing he’s the cause. That he’s put that smile on you, making you bite your bottom lip. He’s the one who’s made this gentler on your heart.

When Clark takes off again, you and Joel wait until he disappears around the corner to withdraw your arms, then you break into stomach-y laughter, smothering your face in your hands. “Oh god,” you wheeze, your whole face split by joy. “His face. That was—shit, that was incredible. That felt so good.”

Rubbing the back of his neck, Joel looks out into the empty street to hide his blush, focusing on the golden light of August’s showboating. It’s a perfect evening, oak trees gossiping in the balmy breeze. It’s small, sure, but knowing he’s made you feel so good sets him on fire, fries his brain. He wants to make you say so good, so good, so good, in every possible way. 

You snort, you’re laughing so hard. 

“Happy to be of service,” he mumbles.

“Jesus,” you go on, and he turns to find you’re wiping your thumbs under your eyes. “That felt so much better than I thought it would. I think you might be a genius.”

Sure, genius. That’s the word for it.

On the day of the block party, you ask Joel to creep across the street at the break of dawn, insisting that people could be setting up, and, wouldn’t it look weird if we didn’t come out of the same house? We have to look like we’re sleeping together, dumbass. He only managed to restrain himself from suggesting that he just sleepover by the skin of his teeth, so tempted by the thought of being close to you at night—even isolated on your couch, so many doors away from your dreams.

But he’ll take the morning. He does. As early light sets the asphalt ablaze, Joel slinks across the road to your house, finds your front door unlocked, and lets himself in. Inside is cold like winter, the air-con cranked, and you’re on the couch in a sweater that’s cuffed at your wrists, coffee smoking in your hand, your legs folded up beneath you, bare.

“Morning,” you say, when you see him, a kind smile on your lips.

Joel shuts the red door behind him, clears his throat. “Mornin’,” he says.

There are hours until the block party begins, so you and Joel kill the morning on your couch watching shitty TV and drinking enough coffee that Joel’s hands begin to shake—though maybe that’s just the cold, the air frigid in a way that transcends summer. Maybe it’s just you. You, transforming leftovers from your fridge into a breakfast hash, rich with cilantro from the plant on your windowsill. You, knocking your knuckles against his arm whenever you laugh at something stupid he’s managed to say or a joke on screen. You, handing him his refilled mug or breakfast bowl or taking them back to wash up, brushing your fingertips against his hand. Every time.

It’s a jolt to his whole system, this small meeting of your skin.

Soon the television is challenged by the din of your neighbors setting up tables and booths and games for the kids—at which you straighten on the couch, craning to peek through one of your picture-frame windows. A sigh blooms from your lips, then you set down your mug.

“Should put clothes on,” you tell him as you rise, legs unfolding. You look so soft. Joel knows you would be. “Gimme a second.”

Then you’re gone, and his head falls down against the back of your couch, the heels of his hands grinding into his eyes. It feels like you’re only gone for a second before your footsteps pinch down the stairs once more. “Headache?” he hears you ask, catching him with his hands still over his eyes. “Did I give you too much coffee?” 

You’re teasing. Joel can hear your smirk as his hands slip back down to his lap, craning over the back of the couch to look up at you, and the world crumbles below him and falls away. Brows folded low over your eyes, you slide your hands down your front to soothe wrinkles from the skirt of your red sundress that only you can see. Slack-jawed, Joel finally manages to sit up, then twists to look back at you properly—perfect, that’s what you are. Every temptation and every vice and every poison he’d willingly drink.

“The dress is too much, isn’t it?” you say, sounding worried now.

He shakes his head, fights not to reach over this goddamn couch and pull you onto his lap. The thought alone makes his cock twitch traitorously in his jeans. You’re close enough that he could. You’re right there.

“S’perfect,” Joel croaks.

You let out a sigh of relief and nod before moving toward the door for your shoes. With his last remaining sense, Joel turns his head just before you bend down to reach for a pair of sandals. This was a terrible idea. He sees that now. A huge fucking mistake. 

But it’s too late to back out now, because you’re already calling him over, sliding your hand into his as you step out onto the porch like this is normal, like you’ve done this before, like you don’t mind his sweaty palm. Outside the street is a racket, a flurry of children chasing each other between driveways and neighbors cracking the caps off beer bottles, a painted banner strung over the road between two maples: 

B L O C K   P A R T Y ! 

He hears you make a quiet hmph sound of amusement as you draw toward the crowd.

Joel waits, but to his surprise, no one asks why you’re here together, why you’re holding hands. Sorta figured you’d have to do the awkward uh, yes, it’s very… new for everyone, but nobody asks. In fact, when you vanish momentarily from his side to get drinks—the ruffle of your dress flirting with the tops of your thighs—someone tuts sweetly to Joel, “I knew it.”

Then you’re back before he can blush, two bottles sweating in your hands, and the neighbor vanishes the second you pass one to him. Your forehead has pinched up with nerves. Must mean you’ve seen him, Clark or whatever, and Joel’s a man of his word—you’ve asked him to do a job—so he glides one hand around your waist and presses his lips to your temple. Mumbles softly, “I’ve got ya,” against your skin as he breathes you in. There’s something sweet in your perfume, he thinks. Lilac or honey.

As if on cue, a soccer ball zips beneath the banner and a moment later it lifts as someone chases after it. Clark, obviously, looks up, sees you in the nook of Joel’s arm, and tucks the runaway ball under one arm without a word, then takes off in the direction he came from without so much as a nod.

Joel feels your chin jut into his chest as you squeeze him, smiling. “This is gonna be fun,” you grin.

Joel takes a deep breath to keep himself from hoping. That glint in your eye—one part mischief and another affection—ain’t good for him, but he can’t help the twitch at the corner of his mouth, that instinct to return your smile. “Careful, darlin’,” he mumbles, and as he brushes his thumb across your cheek you lean into his hand. “Face might stick like that.”

Rolling your eyes, you say, “What, you don’t like it like this?”

Though he only hmphs, Joel suspects you know that he does, in fact, like you very much like this: smiling up at him like he’s painted the sky with stars just by standing at your side. 

How quickly the day passes with you beside him. For every year he’s lived in the neighborhood Joel has too attended the block party, but like most obligatory functions, he finds himself worn down quickly, always the first to leave, retreating into the quiet of his house when he’s reached the end of his meager tolerance. When he’s had too many conversations and seen too many faces too close together and he’s desperate for quiet, for sleep.

It’s different with you. You buffer so much of the polite conversations he’s never been good at having with grace and ease, always drawing the focus away from him just as he starts to feel it’s too much, like you can tell when Joel’s at the end of his rope. Sure, he’s still gotta stand there while you chat to whoever about mixed up mail or work or garden soil, but so long as they’re looking at you, that swell of too much never comes. He can just stand there, sipping his beer or lemonade, and focus on the swipe of your thumb across his knuckles as you hold his hand. The heat of your body when you lean into him.

By sundown, Joel forgets that it’s all pretend. He forgets this is nothing but a favor between friends.

Now the food has dwindled, that summer smell of hotdogs dissolving from the air, and all the lawn chairs once relegated to each person’s lawn shuffle into the black street as cicadas form their nightly orchestra. You don’t have any lawn chairs, but Joel’s got two. Always has—he doesn’t know why. Only ever just him at these things.

Maybe he was hopeful, back when he bought them.

It’s hard not to feel—as he drags both out to sit at the back of the crowd—like he was waiting for you. He just didn’t know it at the time.

“So prepared,” you tease him, as you settle into your seats. 

“Keep it up,” he replies, his eyebrows warning in their slow rise. “I’ll take that chair you’re sittin’ on.”

You scrunch your nose. “No you won’t,” you say.

Obviously he won’t. But you don’t have to be so cute about it. 

Then a sudden chorus of children shrieks, announcing the first firework. There’s a hissing, then a dart in the darkness, and a small spark of golden light cracks open overhead. A smattering of applause simmers, punctuated by oohs and awws, and all the kids giggle every time a sparkler booms. Beside him, the glitter of each explosion forms a galaxy in your eyes, your lips parted with wonder. The prettiest thing Joel’s ever seen, just like that first day. After a while you notice that Joel’s not watching the show, and turn slowly to look at him, your expression open and tender.

“Missing the show,” you say.

He shrugs. “I’ll see ‘em next year.”

When you smile, he wants to kiss you so badly his heart might actually stop, strangled by its longing.

But your head whips back at the thunder of a vibrant firework—a dandelion of neon blue and searing white—and the moment passes. Then Joel watches your smile falter as your eyes fall into the crowd; Clark, sitting up near the front of the pack, is looking back at you over his shoulder. Trying to be subtle and doing a shitty job; head snapping away the moment he sees Joel’s glare. 

“Ignore him,” Joel says, and reaches down to wrap a hand around one leg of your chair, dragging you closer to him. You let out a giddy yelp of surprise and draw your ex’s attention again. 

This time you don’t flinch or falter. One glance at the guy and you’re reaching for Joel, fist gripping the collar of his t-shirt to tug him toward you. He’s got no chance to think, to panic; it happens too fast. Your sweet mouth closes over his—not for a peck, but a real kiss. Lips parting to taste his bottom lip, a breathy sigh passed from your tongue to his. Joel’s lost all at once, no use resisting. His hand curls gently over your wrist to keep your grip on him as he tilts his head to lick into your mouth. 

The fireworks fall away.

You taste like lemonade and hops and the raspberry cobbler someone cooked up, and there’s not a cell in Joel’s body that doesn’t swoon at the way your lips chase and melt into his, humming softly against his mouth when he cradles the back of your head in the palm of his hand. How you tug gently at his bottom lip before you draw away, forcing his hand to slink from your hair.

Clark’s staring. Your lips proud and grinning. Plush and kiss-bitten. Looking every bit as calm as Joel feels walloped. You hm smugly to yourself and drop your head on his shoulder, attention once more captured by the crackle of fireworks Joel forgot were happening, and even though he’s a fool for agreeing to something he knew would rip him up, he can’t bring himself to regret it. Not when you’ve kissed him like that. Not when you’re lying against him still, even though Clark has turned away.

The whole rest of the show passes in a dizzy haze. A blur of shattering light, and the heady weight of you leaning against him. Near the end you slip one hand over his knee. Your ex isn’t watching, doesn’t see the way your thumb glides slowly across the denim of Joel’s jeans, intoxicating. 

It feels, or else he hopes, that it’s just for him. 

The night is black by the time he walks you home, all your neighbors disappearing into their darkened houses, his lawn chairs stowed safely on his porch, and even though everyone’s gone when you reach your porch you still don’t let go of his hand until you’re at the door and you have to get out your keys. 

Your lock surrenders with a metal crack and you let your red door swing open. Inside your furniture beckons from the shadowed living room, cozy and soft. But you hesitate in the doorway, looking up at him. Joel has to put his hands in the pockets of his jeans to keep himself from pulling you against him properly, and pinning you to the wall. 

You scrunch your nose at him again. “Thank you,” you say, and your bottom lip pinches between your teeth as Joel’s gaze falls to your mouth. “Was actually pretty fun, in the end.”

Joel nods, drops his eyes shyly to his shoes. “I had fun too,” he manages to say. 

Your sandal nudges the toe of his boot as he stares at his shoes. “Y’alright?”

No, he’s not alright. He knows what it’s like to kiss you now—how the hell’s he supposed to go on living with that, and not ever have it again. “Mhm,” Joel lies, head snapping up to meet your gaze. He mistakes the look in your eyes for discomfort, thinks he must be keeping you from your night, from sleep. That after you were so sweet to him all day, he’s got the nerve to bother you. His heart winces as he forces himself to take a small step back. “Sorry. Don’t wanna keep ya.”

“Oh,” you say, face falling a little. “Okay. Goodnight then.”

There’s no way the pathetic flinch of his lips looks anything like a smile as he mumbles a sorry g’night.  

Then your face shrinks slowly in the closing gap of the door, a darkened look haunting your face that Joel swears—in the split second he sees it—almost looks like disappointment. Like you don’t want him to go. 

When he licks his lips, Joel remembers the plush of your lips, the soft hum you’d made when he licked into your mouth, how you’d leaned into his hand when he cradled your head. How your ex could never have seen or heard any of that sitting so far away. 

Maybe you just wanted to. God, he hopes you wanted to.

So before he can talk himself out of it, Joel’s hand jumps out and smacks flat against your door, holding it ajar. Through the slender gap he watches a grin bolt across your face as you sigh thank god and grab hold of his shirt, hauling him through the doorway to crash your lips against his.

dividers by @thecutestgrotto - tag list & some mutuals!

@ak-vintage @thethirstwivesclub @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @hediondoamor-blog @harriedandharassed 

@burntheedges @jolapeno @la-eterna-enamorada29 @iknowisoundcrazy @guiltyasdave

@littlemisspascal @luxurychristmaspudding @tonysopranosrobe @evolnoomym @sweetpascal 

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@pedrospatch @yopossum @toomanytookas @sawymredfox @galway-girlatwork

[eatfishies]

Black Lace and Trouble All Over Your Face 🔞

summary: A black lace underwear vs a lust-driven Sylus.

or

He may or may not have seen a peek of what you wore beneath your dress.

word count: 2.5k tags: NSFW, sylus x reader (afab), no plot just filth, oral sex, cunnilingus, clit play, swearing, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, squirting and ejaculation, overstimulation, choking, blowjobs, slight fluff, panty kink (?), deepthroating, pet names, nipple play, established relationship, creampie, degradation fish notes: please and PLEASE heed the tags oki !! only read if ur comfy but yes anyways i decided to share my smutty sylus fic here too ^__^ forgive me if it's a lil rusty, i haven't wrote in awhile T__T ── ao3 link ★ ˙ ̟ song recs: guess by charli xcx

She honestly didn’t know how it even came to this point. From trying on an innocent dress to now, laying and spreading out before the most fearful man in the whole N109 Zone. And yet, Sylus finds her the prettiest like this — flustered and bewildered. The dress she was trying on hiked up a bit, showing off her bare, smooth legs.

Sylus could no longer ignore the gnawing primal hunger he feels towards her. It was torturous, having to hold back his desires and maintain a facade of nonchalance when all he wanted was to ravage her and make her feel like she’s on top of the world.

Her breath hitched in her throat as she stared at him. Red eyes swirling with multitude of thoughts. “W- what are you doing…?” She asked, slightly confused, yet mildly curious. Of course, she knew what he was thinking about it, she’s not entirely dumb.

Sylus traced her jaw ever so softly. “Don’t play coy with me, kitten. You knew what you were doing wearing this dress.”

Well, it wasn’t really a revealing dress per se, it’s just that… she was in the middle of picking up her phone that had dropped to the floor when he walked in on her. Bent down and revealing a peek of what’s underneath her cute little dress. Sylus briefly caught a glimpse of a black lace underwear, but he couldn’t be too sure. He needed to see it for himself to confirm his suspicions.

If only Sylus hadn’t come home at this exact moment, then maybe she wouldn’t have been in this exact predicament. Not that she’s complaining much but she is more or less a little bit surprised that it took Sylus longer than she anticipated to make a move. For someone so bold with his adoration towards her, he is awfully slow when it comes to voicing out his inner desires. Perhaps this train of thought goes way deeper and… dirtier than it seemed.

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about. I was just trying on a cute dress I had just bought online. It’s not my fault you saw my underwear. You should’ve knocked before you entered anyways.” She spoke, trying to remain casual and calm but only he knows how fast her composure is slipping the more she is pinned beneath him.

He only smirked, as he wasn’t particularly phased or bothered by it. The tent on his pants says otherwise though. He really is curious to know what lies beneath her dress. For once, he’ll let go of his pride and bite the bullet. After all, he couldn’t resist her, no matter how hard he tried. She’s the only one that can conquer the depths of his heart.

“Well then… care to satiate my curiosity then? Or is my kitten too shy to admit that she wears such a pretty little thing underneath her clothes everyday...”

A blush crept on her face even more. “O- of course not everyday!” She looked away, too embarrassed that she may have worn it because she had also bought it along with the dress. It seemed like her wishful thinking came true after all. Now that Sylus has her trapped and nowhere to go, she could only let herself go.

“Why don’t you take a guess then? What do you think I’m wearing, hm?”

Sylus stared at her, amused by her sudden bold question. “You want me to guess, huh, darling?” He leaned down to gently bite her earlobe, sending tingles everywhere down her body. He whispered hotly in her ear, “I think it’s black and lace. Am I right, sweetie?”

At this point, she was still surprised at how she’s even holding up. She merely croaked out a flustered, “yes” before Sylus smirked and went lower to kiss and bite her neck, leaving a trail of hickeys that would be visible to everyone tomorrow. She could only let out whimpers and moans at his ministrations.

“Sy- sylus! Please…” She begged as he continued to tease her. He pulled back slightly, “What do you want baby?”

With no hesitation, she said breathlessly, “I want you.”

Red eyes gleamed dangerously as his usual smirk tugged at his lips. “As you wish, princess.” In a swift motion, he took the dress she was wearing and tossed it somewhere on the floor. Normally, she’d be a little pissed but now, she couldn’t care less.

Not when Sylus is marveling at the underwear she’s wearing. A black lace, almost see-through underwear with pink bows on it. It should be a crime on how it ridiculously made him salivate at the sight before him.

“Like what you see?” She bit her lip shyly, observing his expression carefully.

“Like it is not even a word for it, sweetie.” His fingers went up to expertly take off her bra, leaving her breasts exposed. He grasped both of them before pinching her nipples, eliciting a moan out of her. Sylus closed the distance between them and kissed her hungrily, addicted to the way she tasted as he played with her tits. He pulled away and gazed at her with a wild look in his eyes, “I am going to devour you.” Was what he said before his lips enclosed on the nipple, feeling it hardened as he continued to twirl with the neglected bud.

Pure ecstasy ran through her body. She can feel herself getting even more wet the more Sylus continued to suck and lick her nipples. He watched her carefully as he trailed kisses along her soft skin, igniting all sorts of butterflies in the pit of her stomach.

She squirmed beneath his watchful eyes, “Sy… please. Don’t tease me.” She pleaded, her tone was sweet and desperate. A deep chuckle was all she heard before Sylus slowly moved down to stare at her sopping wet panty. He smirked, finding this amusing, “Already so wet for me, kitten?” He prodded at her soaked underwear, pressing down on her clit.

At the sounds of her whimpers, Sylus continued to rub her clit through her underwear. Edging her closer to release but the moment she arched her back and curled her toes, Sylus stops. Unable to control herself any longer, she begged, “Please… I want you. I’ll be good, I swear.”

“Really? Then I shall reward my good girl, hm?” Sylus pulled aside her cute lace underwear, staring in fascination and adoration at her dripping cunt. “Your pretty pink pussy is so eager for me, sweetie.” She blushed, seemingly having a hard time to grasp on his crude, yet blunt words.

Without giving her a chance to dwell on it, Sylus begins to lick her pussy. All she could do was lay back and let out a string of moans– overwhelmed by the pleasure. Ruby eyes gazed at her intensely as he continued to expertly suck on her drooling cunt.

“Haaa..! Ah! Fuck–! It feels so good, Sy…” She moaned out his name and it sounded like heaven to his ears. He hummed, skillfully tonguing her pussy with vigor, aching to witness her orgasm. The tent in his pants is becoming awfully hard, he longed to see her on her knees and choking on his cock. The more she mewls and cries, the faster Sylus laps at her eager cunt.

Her fingers find their way to grasp and pull on Sylus’s soft hair, a plethora of moans and whimpers choked out of her throat as she feels herself reaching her climax. “Ah! Sylus, Sylus! Fuck, I’m so close!” A wave of euphoria washed over her as she came undone on Sylus’s sinful mouth.

“That’s my good girl.” He spoke lowly as he licked his lips, she felt herself flush at the sight of his face wet with her juices. Just when she thought it was over, her underwear was pulled down and tossed to the side, revealing her dripping wet pussy. Her cunt clenched around his digits, sliding in and out of her gummy walls with ease.

“Argh…! Sylus… put it in me. I want it. I want your cock.” She whimpered and who was Sylus to deny his slutty girl what she wanted. “Relax, kitten. Let me see how much you can squirt for me.” She bit her lip, hard as he continued to finger her, casually inserting three fingers at once.

He chuckled, “My… someone’s insatiable. Can’t get enough, hm? Such a dirty whore for me.” She could only moan out in response as Sylus sped up, ramming in her cunt like there’s no tomorrow. The room was surrounded by her cries of pleasure and wet squelching sounds, courtesy of her desperate pussy.

Curses and whimpers elicited out of her throat, her cunt spasming against his skillful fingers. Sylus curled his fingers and that’s when she saw stars, coming once more for him. “So… so… good…” She said breathlessly, seemingly in a daze.

Sylus brushed a strand of hair out of her face, drenched in sweat as she stared back at him. Her eyes are unfocused and filled with desire. “Does my slutty kitten want my cock?” He leaned down and began to litter bite marks at her thighs. Sylus loved this, claiming her as his own. Letting everyone know that she belongs to him and him only.

She whined, her hands reaching out to grip on his shirt. “Want it, Sy… please. I’ve been so good…”

He lets her unbutton his shirt, her fingers are itching to feel his skin against hers, while Sylus removed his pants, speeding up the process. Without wasting any time, Sylus stroked his hardened shaft, letting out breathy moans. His gaze remained on her, laying beneath him. “C’mon sweetie, open up.” He said as he guided his cock to her parted lips.

She lets out a whine, swallowing him whole. Sylus was way too big to even fit in her mouth but the more he trained her, the more she became accustomed to it. “What a good cockslut.” He praised her, his fingers tugging onto her messy hair.

Eager to please, she began to bob her head around his shaft while he roughly throatfucks her. Saliva trickled down her chin but all she could think about was him. Sylus is truly the definition of perfect.

The sight of him in bliss and in pleasure turns her on way more than she’d like to admit. Feeling strangely motivated by the looks of his face, she quickened her pace, wanting, no, she needs his cum.

“Ah… yeah, just like that, kitten. Fuck, you’re so good at this. You like sucking my cock, huh?” He stroked her hair as she gazed up at him, nodding. Unable to resist any longer, Sylus grips her hair, and she lets herself be used just like a toy. “You dirty little whore, so good at pleasing me. Fuck, I’m close!” He thrusted inside her hot mouth before finally reaching his high.

As soon as he came, she hummed in satisfaction. Pulling back, she stuck out her tongue and showed him before swallowing. Sylus’s eyes glowed, he’s hungry for more. In an instant, he grabbed her throat, “You pretty little thing, I’m going to ruin you.”

She braced herself when she felt the tip of his cock slowly push inside her dripping cunt. Once he finally slid all the way in, he let out a moan. “Your pussy is so needy. It’s gripping me so hard, sweetie.” She could only arch her back as her fingers scramble to grab the sheets.

Feeling herself clenching tightly around his shaft, she whimpered, “Move… Sylus, please, I need you hard and fast.”

The usual smirk appeared on his handsome face, “As you wish, my slut.” Was what he said before ruthlessly pounding into her with an inhumane pace. His name falls out of her lips like a prayer – a mantra as she feels her pussy drooling and becoming wetter with each thrust.

“Scream for me. Say my name.” His hand gripped her throat, “Say it, you dumb slut.”

She had no choice but to obey his demands. With a choked voice, she screamed out, “Sylus! Sylus! Fuuuuck! Feels so good– ah! Right there, right there!”

He could only admire her as he thrusted deep into her sweet spot. Watching his lover make such lewd expressions makes him feel a swell of pride, knowing that only he could do that. No one else.

He lets go of her throat, thick fingers coming down to rub and flick at her clit. “Cum on my cock, whore.”

The world turned white as soon as she reached her orgasm. Sylus continued to ram into her before coming deep in her tight cunt. He pulled out, staring in fascination as cum dribbled out of her used pussy.

“You did so well, kitten.” He said softly, caressing her cheek as she nodded dumbly, too out of it. Sylus could only smile, knowing that she is still in a state of euphoria. He leaned down to press a kiss on her forehead, “Let me take care of you, my precious.”

The next morning, she woke up feeling sore and satisfied. To her disappointment, Sylus was nowhere to be seen. She frowned as she sat up in bed, maybe he has work? She thought to herself before getting out and walking to the bathroom.

Bite marks and hickies scattered across her skin as she observed her disheveled state in the mirror. She blushed as she recalled their intense activity last night. After she had finished washing her face and brushing her teeth, she walked out and was surprised to see Sylus in bed with a tray of breakfast.

“Good morning, sweetie.” He said, his eyes softening at her appearance.

Her feet instantly moved to sit beside him, “Sylus, did you make this?” She pointed to the fluffy pancakes and a cup of coffee. A smile crept on her face once she realized that the pancakes were shaped like hearts.

“Of course. I dismissed the chef for today. Wanted to pamper you for being so good to me last night.”

If it wasn’t possible, she felt herself falling for this man more and more. She smiled brightly at him, “Thank you, this is lovely.”

He returned her smile with his own, “Anything for you, my sweet.”

The couple enjoyed their morning with breakfast in bed and cuddles. When Sylus was feeding her, he suddenly asked, “Where did you get that underwear from?”

She raised a brow, “I ordered it online. It’s pretty, isn’t it?”

“Very. Next time you want to buy something, put it on my card.” He said casually.

A hint of surprise etched on her face, “Oh? Okay then.”

Over the course of a few days, she finds new packages arrived at her doorstep. No doubt the work of Sylus when she shook her hand and sighs as she held up the new lace panty that he had ordered for her.

There was a note at the end of the package, it wrote, “Wear this for tonight.”

She could only smile as she knew she would be in for a treat once more.

[lemonlover1110]

𝐀 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃

Toji Fushiguro

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Summary: You feel something while sitting on your boyfriend's lap, and you have the perfect idea on how to help him.

Warnings: MDNI, smut, virgin!reader, oral sex (m. receiving), spitting, praising, reader gives her first blowjob, not mentioned but implied age gap

10k Event Masterlist

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

The fact that you were inexperienced wasn’t an issue for Toji, in fact, he likes the fact that you didn’t really have many boyfriends. He likes to teach you how to do certain things– But he does hate certain things. He hates the fact that you would tease him without knowing so. 

Just randomly sitting on his lap, and kissing the most random spots makes Toji think the wildest possible thoughts. And he swears that sometimes you wear skimpy clothes just to tease him. But he knows you can be naïve, or maybe you’re just a little demon that loves to make Toji’s life impossible. Regardless, Toji doesn’t rush you to do anything that you don’t want to do.

Toji really does love you, if he didn’t, he wouldn’t have stuck in a sexless relationship. Sex isn’t a necessity but it is nice. He’d never make a comment about it to you though since he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable or put any unnecessary pressure on you. He wants you to be as comfortable as possible with him. But sometimes that comes at a great cost to him.

You sit on his lap, moving around to make yourself comfortable, and Toji bites down on his lip. You catch a glimpse of him, and he looks… Awkward. His elbow is on the end table that’s next to the couch, his chin resting on his hand while he looks away.

“Are you okay, baby?” You ask him, and Toji hums in response. You shift on his lap and you feel it, making your face grow hot. You take a moment to think of how to react, before wrapping your arms around his neck. “I want to help you.”

“Huh?” Toji raises his brow and asks, a bit taken back by what you just said. You stand up from his lap, grabbing his hand before attempting to pull him up from the couch. He stands up, asking, “What do you want to do?”

“I want to help you with your little problem.” You repeat, trying to lead him to his bedroom, and Toji hesitantly follows. 

“Are you sure… I mean… This isn’t what I had in mind for you.” Toji says, and he almost wants to slap himself for even thinking of turning you down. He’s suddenly become the most moral man on Earth, which he thought was impossible a couple of years ago.

“I’m sure.” You answer, forcing your boyfriend to sit down on the edge of his bed. You peck his lips and then his cheeks. Your lips go up to his ear, “It’s about time I give you a blowjob.”

“Just a blowjob, right?” Toji asks as you begin to pull down his sweatpants. It’s no surprise to you when you find him not wearing any underwear. Your eyes widen at the size of him though, and you’re wondering just how he’ll fit in your mouth.

“Yeah… Just a blowjob.” You answer as you get on your knees, your hand wrapping at the base of his cock. Toji watches you as you bite down your lip, unsure of how you want to start off. You've surely watched some videos, just to do this for him but your mind goes blank when you're in the moment.

“Spit on it, baby.” Toji tells you, making you roll your eyes as you bring your lips together. You do as he says, before your hand begins to stroke his cock. Your tongue licks the tip of his cock before it begins to circle around it. Toji really thought he would have to guide you through it, but it seems like you know what to do. At least for now.

Your mouth wraps around his cock, hollowing your cheeks before you begin to bob your head up and down on his cock. You take in as much as you can take, which isn’t a lot– It disappoints you, but Toji is over the moon. At least that’s what it seems when your eyes look up to find his head thrown back. Toji isn’t the type to really make any noise but he wants to know that you’re making him feel so good, “Your mouth feels so fucking good–”

Your jaw begins to get tired, so you lift your head, your tongue focusing on circling on the tip of his cock again. Toji looks down at you, and he swears he’s died and gone to heaven. He’s pictured this same exact scene so many different times, and he thought he’d never see the day.

“Your cock’s so big, baby.” You tell him, stroking his length. He grabs your head, and you slightly stand up for a moment to make it easier for him to kiss you. His tongue presses against yours, and when he pulls away, a string of saliva connects your lips, “I want to hear you moan for me, Toji.”

“Fuck, you’re so hot.” Toji says, as you settle on your knees again. Your tongue licks from the base of his cock to the tip of his cock. Your mouth wraps around him again, while your hand begins to play with his balls. Your other hand strokes the part of his cock that your mouth isn’t wrapped around. 

“Ngh– Fucking love your mouth.” Toji begins to moan your name, doing just as you want him to. He wants to keep you happy so this happens again. He’s thinking of you in a different position though… It’s too selfish to voice. He doesn’t want to rush you in any way but he’s only imagining how nice and tight your pussy feels. “You’re doing such a good job. Shit.”

Toji gets louder by the second, biting down his lip to suppress his moans, his breathing slowly getting heavier. His hand grips the bed until his cock twitches in your mouth, his salty cum hitting the back of your throat. Most of it drips down your mouth and goes down to your chin.

You lift your head, and Toji’s thumb runs up your chin, gathering his cum before he swipes it on your bottom lip. He praises you, “You did such a good job, baby…”

He bends down to kiss your lips, getting some of his own cum on his mouth. It’s not the first time it happens. He smirks down at you before he tells you, “But you’re gonna have to learn to swallow.”

[tulip-room]

✧.*Cheat Day*.✧

Pairing: Sakusa x Fem! Reader

Words: 1.3k

Content:  Sakusa forgets his lunch at home and you bring it to him. One problem, you guys forgot to tell his friends you were dating. 

a/n: This is part of my Sweet Treats writing series! The first installment so keep an eye out for the other parts and the taglist for the other stories are open!!!

All you had wanted to do was bring your boyfriend lunch because he forgot it at home. Of course you had also been baking a new recipe and needed feedback on it, so the obvious choice was your boyfriend. You had texted him letting him know you would be stopping by practice with his lunch and a small treat. Once you had reached the doors of the gym though it all seemed to go down hill. You weren’t yet ready for work so you had left the house in one of his hoodies and a simple skirt. 

You had completely forgotten that his teammates weren’t made aware of your relationship when you stepped through the door, bento box and clear container of cookies in hand. Unfortunately for you Atsumu was the first to see you. He made his way over with a smile while you stood at the door looking around for your boyfriend. “Aren’t you a cute little fan!” Your eye twitched as he approached and readjusted the mask on your face. You didn’t really want to interact with more people than necessary but here you are. You smiled before remembering the mask on your face obscured it so you lifted your hand to give him a small wave. “And who might those cookies be for? Me?” You couldn’t help but laugh a little at his overconfidence.

“No.” Your eyes continued to scan the gym but still no sign of your boyfriend. How you couldn’t find Sakusa was a mystery to you since he usually stuck out like a sore thumb. Atsumu gathered your attention again by waving a hand in front of your face. 

“How you wound me. So who might the cookies and lunch be for then cutie?” He was starting to annoy you a little bit with his blatant flirting. Couldn’t he see how uninterested you were? You thought you were making it fairly obvious. Luckily though you catch a glimpse of your tall boyfriend. It seemed he had gone to the locker room to grab something, his phone. He looked almost as annoyed as you. Your face lit up when you saw him though. “Oh?” Atsumu followed your line of sight. “Sorry to disappoint but Omi Omi doesn’t really take gifts from fans.” You rolled your eyes and pushed past him to your boyfriend. 

Atsumu looked in shock as he saw a smile spread across Sakusa’s face upon seeing you. Was he opening his arms for a hug? Now he was really confused. Atsumu rushed over to watch the interaction. “Who is this Omi Omi?”

Sakusa sighed and kept one arm around your shoulders as you leaned into him. He would’ve been happy had the short outburst from Miya not collected the attention of the rest of the team. “My girlfriend dimwit.” He scoffs as you look at him like he hung the stars in the sky. The team is in shock, Sakusa? Brooding, cold, uninterested Sakusa has a girlfriend before them? How did that happen? 

“What?!” Atsumu lets out a yelp in surprise. “Why didn’t you say so earlier? I look stupid now!”

“You don’t need any help with that,” Sakusa tsked. 

“I’m so sorry for flirting with you earlier.” Atsumu bowed towards you. Oh, there was that scowl he was so used to seeing. 

“You flirted with my girlfriend?”

“How was I supposed to know she was your girlfriend! We didn’t even know you had one until a few minutes ago!” 

“Maybe look with your eyes at the hoodie she’s wearing,” Sakusa scoffs and motions to your hoodie. Upon first glance it looks like a regular MSBY Sakusa hoodie but Atsumu can see it’s one of the ones the team was gifted. Instead of the usual black the hoodie is gold with the mascot on the chest and the number 15 in black across your midriff. He’s sure if he looked on the back it would say Sakusa. Atsumu visibly deflated.

“It’s not my fault Omi! I thought she was just a cute little fan!”

“Yeah, my little fan.” Sakusa rolls his eyes. You let out another small laugh at the exchange and shake the bento box and cookie container. 

“I need you to taste test these cookies my love,” you say gently as Sakusa leads you over to the bench where the two of you sit down. Atsumu is still upset that he didn’t know his friend had a partner and that he made their first meeting awkward by flirting with her. 

He still thought it was unfair that Sakusa had a girlfriend to bring him lunch and sweet treats when he doesn’t think he’s ever seen Sakusa eat a sweet before. He’s sure the other boy has but Atsumu has never been witness to it. Sakusa takes the container gently from your hands and takes a cookie from the box. They’re simple but you wanted to make sure they were good. Sakusa isn’t one to sugar coat anything so you always trust his opinion. 

It’s a chocolate cookie with sprinkles in it like a confetti cookie. Sakusa takes a small bite and gives you an even smaller smile now that he’s aware of the eyes on him. “It’s good, maybe add more sugar though the sweeter they are the better they’ll probably sell.” Sell? Atsumu takes another look at you. You nod at Sakusa’s review and smile as you stand up. 

“You’re more than welcome to share with the rest of your team. There should be enough in there, also don’t forget your lunch next time. I won’t always have time before work to bring it to you.”

“How do you know I didn’t leave it on purpose just to see you again?” This causes your face to grow much warmer than it was a minute ago. Sakusa flirting always caught you off guard, you don’t think you’ll ever be used to it. 

“Kiyo, silly boy.” You shake your head and ruffle his hair slightly. He shakes his head and fixes his hair. “I have to go, but play nice with your teammates. I’ll see you at home.” You pull your mask down and kiss over his moles before quickly leaving. While Sakusa isn’t one for PDA he can’t complain about your sweet treats and even sweeter kisses. 

“So, Omi Omi. What did you mean by "sell better?”

Sakusa rolls his eyes. “You really can’t be this dense can you?” He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “She owns a bakery. I taste test her new stuff so she knows whether she should sell it or not.” Atsumu rolls his own eyes.

“Right, and you taste test everything?” Sakusa nods, a small blush taking its place on his face. “But I’ve never seen you eat anything sweet.”

“I didn’t used to. I used to hate cheat days but I love my girlfriend and want to support her as much as she supports me.” Sakusa turns his face away at his confession. 

“Aww! Omi Omi! You’re really a big softie no matter how you usually act!” 

“Only for her.” He states, this doesn’t stop the coos Atsumu lets out. It in fact makes it worse.

“You’re such a simp Omi!”

“You’re just jealous I have a girlfriend and you don’t.”

Atsumu clutches his chest as he gasps in shock. “I’m hurt Omi! How could you say such a thing?” Sakusa stands up and rolls his eyes again, Miya really does give him a headache sometimes. 

“Get back to practice Miya.” 

“Whatever you say Omi Omi! Your girlfriend seems nice though, you should bring her to ‘Samu’s so she can properly meet everyone.” Even if Miya gives him headaches he’s glad his friend likes his girlfriend though. If he’s being honest he was scared you and Atsumu wouldn’t like each other. No matter what he says he does value his friend’s opinions even if he does forget to tell them important things.

I have no self control so when I finish fics they immediately get posted lol. Next is an Ushi fic that I've been wanting to write for a little bit, it's going to be short and sweet. Feel free to check out some of my other works or even leave a request :)

taglist: @hiraethwa

rules masterlist

[merchelsea]

Could you write something really fluffy about Lando Norris x reader? Maybe something were their relationship is fairly new and it’s only like the 2nd or 3rd race week the reader has been to and she starts to get sick. She doesn’t feel well at all and try’s to hide it from lando so he can focus on the race but he eventually finds out and is all worried and cuteee

worried sick — lando norris

pairing: lando norris x girlfriend!reader

summary: it’s her first time attending a grand prix and also flying and she doesn’t want anything to ruin her boyfriend’s race, but she gets sick in the process.

author’s note: sorry for taking so long to get to the heart of your request (fluff) but i needed to give context to his worriess

word count: 3k

warnings: curse words

masterlist | requests (open)

you sat on the dinner table, unable to speak. the fork fell from your hand the moment you heard lando's proposal and your eyes followed it's trail.

lando genuinely thought this would be a good idea, but seeing your reaction, with his eyebrows lifted, he may have changed his mind.

you had been dating for quite some time, four months and sixteen days, to be precise, but you were still a little aprehensive about the attention.

from the start, he warned you and gave you an easy way out of his life, but your love overpowered your fears.

even in a relationship, you and lando did everything you could to keep you out of the public eye, and it was working. no one knew about you and him and you liked that. but you were aware that he wanted you by his side while facing the adventures that his job provided him, and that he didn't want to keep you as a secret forever.

so when he made the invitation, it didn't surprise you, but you had to think about it.

you looked at him, he was wearing some jeans and a white hoodie that made him adorable in your eyes. he was looking at you, and you could notice him telling you it was okay to say no with his look.

but there was still a glimpse of hope in his beautiful green eyes, and in your mind you took another look at the pros and cons.

you could scratch out a couple of cons... like the fact that you liked being private. it was true, but you didn't mind not being a secret, and you would never like the idea of having famous and stunning women thinking that your boyfriend was available.

so with a soft look, in that modernly decorated dinning room in his home, you nodded your head.

"i think we could go to china together, yeah." he gave you a confused glance, but refrained from questioning you, afraid you would change your mind.

"great!" he stood up and walked over to you, "i love you," he whispered, pecking your lips before taking his empty plate to the sink.

you watched him come back and sit with you while you finished your own plate. you couldn't say you were hungry anymore, a hundred and one scenarios of what could go wrong in the hard launch of your relationship played in your mind.

lando's presence made it a little easier for you, though. you could only be thankful.

you had never traveled by plane before, so you were pretty nervous.

china was really far from monaco, and your boyfriend told you that the flight would take 11 hours minimum, so you couldn't help feeling anxious.

he held your hand when he noticed your strange behaviour and you immediately intertwined your fingers together.

"it's going to be okay, love." norris kissed the back of your hand and you walked inside of the plane, hand in hand.

of course lando booked the first class seats. he knew about this fear of yours, so whatever he could do to help you out, he would.

you sat down and lando closed the little blind on the window by his side, so you didn't see how far from the ground you were.

you had your headphones on and lando held you close as the plane started moving. you were still not off the ground but the plane shaking scared the fuck out of you. you closed your eyes and tried to focus on the music. it wasn't easy. it was only when the plain stabilized in the air that you could open your eyes again.

"do you want water, food, anything?" your boyfriend asked as he noticed you were a little more calm now.

"water, maybe." you answered, still not feeling completely safe. "and can you open the blind please, i want to see."

"'you sure?" he asked, his hand already on the end of the blind.

"yup."

lando opened up the blind and you peeked through the window. you were already far from the ground and instead of feeling anxiety, that view actually made you a little more calm.

"it's beautiful." you whispered, body leaning towards lando so you could see it better.

the british boy's eyes were on you when he whispered back. "it really is." with a smile.

eventually you sat properly in your seat again and talked to lando as time passed.

you fell asleep with and lando carefully laid your chair back, took out your headphones and covered you with a blanket. he laid his chair back as well and watched you as you slept peacefully. you still had nine hours left and he knew you would be awake for the landing, which he didn't want.

you could only manage to sleep for 2 hours and when you woke up, you noticed your boyfriend sleeping. so the next hours were spent playing games in your mobile phone while you listened to taylor swift.

it wasn't as painful as you thought it would be, and it was only when landing that you felt the uneasy feeling come back. lando held you close through it, as he was used to it.

"it's okay, baby." he whispered. "i'm right here." his reassurence meant more to you than he imagined, and it helped as well.

everything went better than expected and you left the airport hand in hand just half an hour after getting out of the plane.

you felt tired, but it was still morning in china. lando seemed okay, he was already used to all the time changes, since he did this for a living.

"what d'you think about breakfast?" he asked as you passed a coffee shop.

lando was driving to the hotel you two would be staying in, and you honestly just wanted to rest. but you could'nt say no to a good breakfast.

"oh, great idea. i'm starving." you said and he chuckled.

"me too." he stated as his hand found place in your thigh. it stayed there until he needed to use it, to change gear.

he parked the car in front of the cute shop and you both walked in.

you both ordered and sat down talking to eachother until the food came. the driver explained the goods and the bads of the race here. and told you what he liked most about china.

you had done some research about the place yourself because you wanted to take profit of your time here.

as lando would probably have some meetings with the team and you would be alone, you decided to visit some interesting places of the city and even near cities.

you ate in a comfortable silence and left for the hotel as soon as you could. his team took care of the check in so you and him were able to just go straight to your room.

you felt yourself a little too soft, but never said anything because you didn't think it was anything serious and worrying him was something you were not going to do.

deciding to take a nap before doing anything, lando wrapped his arms around you and pulled the blanket over your bodies.

"i love the feeling of having you here." he murmured to your ear.

"i love being here with you." you told him honestly, falling asleep some moments later.

lando though it was weird, since you normally took some time to get to sleep, specially in new places.

when you first stayed the night at his place it took you two hours and a really boring movie.

he remembered it could've been caused by the flight or the time difference. the british was now used to it, but it was your first time, and it was a long flight.

he fell asleep thinking about it because, being honest, you were both more than exhausted.

you woke up just a couple of hours later, coughing, and imediately realized you had gotten sick, and were just in the first stages. you got up from the bed and went to the bathroom so you didn't disturb lando's sleep.

"this can't be happening" you whispered to your reflection in the mirror.

'it can be just a cold, everything will be okay in time for the race' you thought to yourself, trying to calm down.

it was frustrating, to be fair. you had been avoiding coming to his races for months, and when you finally decided to come you got sick.

however, you did not want that to get in the way of lando's weekend, so through the next two days, in which your boyfriend had free practices and qualifying, you pretended to be okay. it was not so easy because norris made every effort to make you feel okay there. that means he talked to every one of his mates and asked them to talk to their own girlfriends, to see if they were interested in meeting you, for his delight but not so yours, they all said yes.

so you were not only busy with pretending to be healthy but also trying to be nice to everyone and making people like you.

it wasn't that hard, you all just found something in common, that was your love for fashion and animals, and talked about it. you were pretty satisfied with the outcome of saturday, and so was lando, managing to get himself on fourth position, with two cars ahead he knew he could get out of his way.

he was starting to find your behaviour a little weird, as soon as you got home you took a really quick shower and got yourself comfortable in bed. he asked you if you were not going to get dinner with him and you told him you would just take a little nap, and asked him to wake you up once the food arrived.

the brit did as you said and tried to wake you up, but you told him you were not hungry in the moment. he made you eat anyways, because tomorrow was a big day and you didn't really have the energy to argue with him.

you both had a good dinner and what was his surprise when you got back to your bed and immediately fell asleep.

he tried to push his suspicions away but he was seriously getting worried. he laid next to you and held you close with one arm, the other resting behind his head as he thought. not only about you and your strange sleeping schedule but also about the circuit.

there was this one curve that he just couldn't get right, and he needed to get it tomorrow. or else he'd lose his chance of a podium or even a win.

he would never want to lose a podium, but with you here, the pressure was different. he wanted to do better for you. he needed to, after dragging you all the way to a new country and making you face your fear of planes.

he eventually fell asleep, your body so close to his comforting him and calming his mind that was going probably faster than his car.

you woke up first, in the morning. but, unlike the other two days, where you managed to get it together and pretend you were okay, today you had a huge headache along with an unbearable malaise.

immediately realizing you were not okay, you decided to not go to the track with lando. you were still planing to go, yes, but later on, after you took some medicine and felt better.

he was a little reluctant in letting you all by yourself because something inside him still thought that something was off. sleeping a lot, not feeling hungry, avoiding his touch and kisses (you did that once, but he still took note), it all felt a little weird.

but you convinved him, telling him that he no longer had time to wait for you and you still needed to get dressed and do your makeup.

"i'm going. but message me as soon as you get to the track, please. i want to see your pretty face before getting in the car." he asked you, his beautiful green eyes focused on yours.

you nodded your head and he pecked your lips. smiling, he turned around and left the hotel room. you decided to take a shower to see if it helped in any way.

it didn't.

you grabbed your phone and searched for lando's personal assistant's contact. someone needed to be informed about this, but you didn't want to alarm your boyfriend just before the big moment of the weekend.

he was really sweet to you, and suggested you stayed in bed and watched the race from the hotel. you were a little apprehensive about how lando would feel about this but he tried to calm you down as best as he could, telling you he knew the driver would understand and probably even be more worried than anything else.

he also promised to only tell lando once he couldn't do anything about it. of course you had asked.

was he going to be pissed? probably. did he love you more than anything and would he forget about all the rest in order to check up on you? absolutely.

once he was told about it, the only thing he could do was text you, so he ran to his phone and quickly wrote a message to you.

'baby i was just informed. i'm so sorry for not noticing.'

your heart clenched in your chest as you read his text. it was not his fault and you felt bad for making him believe that it was.

'it's not your fault, lan. and i'm okay'

you added a little heart at the end and sent it, automatically seeing the 'read' under the blue text baloon.

'you sure?? i can get someone to get you to a doctor'

you smiled at the screen, behind that smile was the way he didn't even hesitate to show you he cared and he worried.

'there's no need, i took some medicine and i'm better now. but good luck on the race. i'll be rooting for you.'

on the other side of the screen, lando sighed, he hated that he couldn't do anything about it but knowing you were okay comforted him a little. so he smiled and typed to you.

'thanks babe! i will be coming back to you as soon as i can, promise you.'

you simply liked his message, letting him focus before the race.

on the bed, you watched the entire race, as you always did. and you were so genuinely happy and proud of him for finishing second, that for a couple of minutes you even forgot you were sick.

you watched the podium celebrations and couldn't help but notice that your boyfriend wasn't as happy as he should be. of course he smiled receiving the trophy, and sprayed champagne on the other podium sitters, which were max and checo, but you knew him, and his smile wasn't as wide as usual.

you sat through and watched the interviews on sky sports. it seemed that you were not the only one who noticed his under-excitement, because that was the first thing the journalist questioned.

"so, lando norris. you just came second here in china. first of all, congratulations. second of all i have got to tell you that all of us were expecting a different reaction from you. you don't seem very excited."

he looked at the woman behind the camera atentively, but anyone with functional eyes could see that his mind was elsewhere. he smiled briefly at the end of her statement.

"well, thank you. and yeah, i'm not in the best mood but that has nothing to do with the race. i know i did my best out there and gave everything i could. unfortunately, max was still there, but we'll keep working, as a team, to get to him."

he smiled and the interview continued, as usual he discussed some technical stuff and gave his perspective on some bits of the race.

"right now i just want to go back to the hotel, to my girlfriend, who isn't here because she got sick, and give her all the love she deserves."

he smiled to the camera and left, leaving the space for others. you saw him walking with oscar behind alonso, who was now giving his own interview.

it didn't take long before you got a message from him, telling you he managed to escape some media duties to go back to you.

you smiled to yourself before answering, and then distracted yourself until you heard the door being unlocked.

jumping from the bed, you rushed towards your boyfriend when he arrived.

"easy there, baby." lando pulled you into a hug, one of his hands in your hair while the other circled your body.

"amazing race, my love." you whispered into his neck. he smiled and when his grip loosened, his lips met yours in a quick but lovely kiss.

"you've got me worried sick, you muppet." he smiled, but looking into his green iris you knew he was serious.

"didn't mean to worry you, i'm sorry," he shook his head and softy kissed your temple.

"don't be sorry. but nex time it happens, let me know. i wouldn't have made you go to practices and quali, and you could've rested."

his fingers caressed your hair and he pulled you to lay your head in his chest. you would never know how worried he got, and how he could only rest his mind after having you in his arms.

"i just didn't want you to worry unnecessarily. i thought i could go through it." your eyes made it possible for him to know that you were being honest. he let out a sigh.

"it's not unnecessarily, you stubborn thing. i love you and i care about you, and i wanted to be here for you." you pull your head back and lock eyes with him.

"i love you too. and thank you."

he kissed you again, all smiley.

you both decided to just lay in bed and do nothing for the rest of the day. you ordered dinner hours earlier, so you didn't have to worry about it later.

lando told you all about his race. from the lights out to the checkered flag he talked you through his decisions and his process of thinking in the moment.

he also kept asking you from time to time how you were feeling and if you needed anything.

you realized just how much you loved him and appreciated the way he cared for you.

once he fell asleep, you smiled out of pure happiness for having him by your side. no matter how much you had liked being kept a secret for a while, in that moment all you wanted was for people to know you loved him.

cause you did, more than you thought you could.

© merchelsea

if you'd like to be tagged in any of my future works, let me know ;)

[freedomfireflies]

Punished*

Summary: The one where you've been a brat to your dominant, Harry, and he's finally had enough.

Word Count: 5k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, degradation, spanking, voyerism, daddy kink, sir kink, age gap (6 years but not explicitly mentioned), exhibitionsim if you squint

Right about now, somewhere across town, Professor Styles is pulling your panties out of his pocket.

If you’re correct, he’ll be standing in the lecture hall, giving his opening remarks for his Applied Mathematics class, and reaching for his favorite pen. He’ll dip into his pocket, feel the silky fabric against his fingertips, and he’ll know.

And you will be royally and magnificently fucked.

Because around the time he realizes just what it is that you’ve snuck into his jacket, he’ll also realize that it means you are somewhere across town not wearing any underwear at all.

And he’ll be fucking furious.

But that’s why you did it. It’s what he deserved. After spending all evening torturing you, teasing you, edging you, and taunting you…he left you. Gave you exactly 0 orgasms by the time you went to bed, claiming you didn’t deserve any after being such a brat all day.

In your defense, you weren’t a brat. No, you didn’t exactly do the few things he’d asked of you. And no, you didn’t communicate with him that you were struggling with your essay and feeling stressed and overwhelmed. But you figured an orgasm would help fix a lot of that. Instead, he left you with none.

You felt rather proud of yourself as you subtly and effortlessly dropped your panties into the pocket while you kissed him goodbye. Knowing he’d be pissed and that he’d punish you for it. You secretly hoped he’d pull them out in front of the whole class. Or in front of the other faculty.

Either way, you knew the text was coming. And when your phone pings as you’re leaving your own class, you can’t help but smile. 

You’re in big fucking trouble, little one.

You bite your lip with glee as you head across campus. You don’t answer his message and you certainly don’t apologize. After all, the day is far from through. 

Around four, you return to his apartment. His office hours aren’t over until five and then he has a faculty meeting which will keep him out until seven. It’s hard some days to be away from him for so long. You miss him. It’s even worse that he doesn’t work at the same university you attend, so there’s not even the slightest chance that you’ll catch a glimpse of him during the day. 

It bothers you more than you’d like to admit. And maybe that’s why you like to challenge him. Because at least if he’s upset and punishing you, he’s paying attention. You don’t want to settle into a routine where he comes home, gives you a quick fuck and a kiss, and falls asleep. 

Or even worse…ends the agreement altogether.

You want to know you’re interesting enough to keep around. That you make this relationship worth it for him. He wants to be dominant. And you want to be his submissive. And even if that means getting spanked and edged from time to time…that’s okay.

So, once you get back to his place, you make a plan. He isn’t too upset yet. He needs a push. A gentle nudge.

And you know exactly how to nudge him.

You find his portable security camera, the one he only sets up when he’s out of town and away from the apartment. You bring it into the bedroom and then you turn it on. You know it’ll send him a notification that it’s active and that it’s sensed movement. From there, he’ll be able to open the app on his phone and see everything the camera does.

Which will be you.

On the bed.

Naked.

And touching yourself.

Breaking his favorite rule.

He won’t be able to do anything about it, either. Between office hours and faculty meetings, he won’t have time to send you a chastising text. He won’t have time to warn you or threaten you. 

But he will be able to watch. You know he will. Even if he has to pull it up behind a notebook, his eyes will be glued to the screen and the thought alone makes you giddy.

You set the camera on the dresser, giving him the perfect view of where you plan to sit against the headboard. You strip off your shirt and skirt, but there’s no need to discard of your underwear—he already knows where it is. 

You crawl onto the mattress, and you settle yourself into the collection of pillows. You find your favorite dildo and you spread your legs and you look directly into the lens. 

Then, you smile.

You start slow, first by rubbing your clit, and settling into the sensation. Praying that Harry is somewhere watching right now. Then you start to tease yourself. One finger…then two. Slowly thrusting them into your cunt until you can add a third. The sounds are wet and delicious, and you moan his name even though he can’t hear you.

When you finally work yourself up to the dildo, you’re shaking. It doesn’t take long for you to cum—twice. Making a mess on his bed and on your thighs that you don’t exactly plan to clean up just yet. And after a quick break…you go back for round three before finally tapping out.

And once you’re through and feeling rather victorious, you wait.

However, waiting proves rather difficult once eight o’clock hits and he’s still not home. Then eight becomes nine and you don’t even have so much as a text. 

And you realize not much later that he’s turned the tables.

Not only does he have the upper hand, but he’s using that hand to squeeze you out. To make you sit and sweat and bite the ends of your fingernails. He wants you to realize that he’s won. Even after everything you did today, he’s still won and he’s going to continue winning and you are undoubtedly fucked.

So, when the door finally opens about fifteen minutes later, your heart drops to your ass.

He strides in rather calmly. He tosses his keys into the bowl by the hallway. He slips off his large coat. He loosens his tie. And then he heads to the bar for a bottle of scotch.

He pours himself a drink and he doesn’t look at you as you sit on the sofa and wait anxiously for his reaction. He doesn’t offer you a hello. He doesn’t glare or even smirk. He keeps his back to you, and he takes two very deliberate sips.

Finally…he turns around.

He leans against the counter and begins to roll his sleeves up to his arms. Then, he crosses them over his chest, and in a gentle murmur says, “Hi.”

Desperate to please and to move the scene along, you scoot to the edge of the couch and place your hands in your lap. “Hi, Sir.”

He hums. Soft. Amused. “Sir, hm?”

You nod. “Yes. You are Sir, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” he echoes. “But you certainly didn’t treat me like one today, did you?”

You resist the urge to smile. “What do you mean, Sir?”

He pushes off the bar and takes one step closer. Then, he reaches into his pocket and pulls your panties free, dangling them from his finger. “Why were these left in my coat today, little one?”

“Oh…were they?” You bat your lashes. “Oops. I guess I forgot where I put them.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He takes another step. “And does that mean you were in class all day without any?”

You shyly glance toward your lap. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“…yes, Sir.”

“I see.” He puts them back in his pocket. “So, like a little fucking whore, you paraded around campus in nothing but a short skirt with no goddamn panties just to piss me off?"

"...yes, Sir."

"Did you touch yourself during class?"

You blink up at him. "I thought about it. But I waited until I was in my car during lunch."

His expression grows harder. "So you touched yourself twice today. Without asking my permission for either one."

"That's right, Sir."

"And you wanted me to find your panties while I was teaching, then, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“To mock me.”

“No, Sir.”

“No?”

You shift and offer him your best pout. “I only wanted your attention, Daddy.”

“You have it.” He nods his chin at you. “But that’s not all you wanted, is it?”

You clear your throat. “What do you mean, Professor?”

He reaches now into his other pocket, pulling out his phone and hitting a few buttons before flipping the screen toward you.

And there you are. On the bed. Writhing, moaning. Coming.

Harry looks at you. “You went through quite a bit of trouble to make sure I’d see this, didn’t you?”

You bite your lip.

“In fact, not only did you want me to see you disobeying my rule, you wanted to rub it in my face. Wanted me to get caught watching you in front of all my colleagues and students.” He clicks the phone off. “Isn’t that right?”

He wants your honesty and even though you’re tempted not to give it to him…you need to see him upset.

You straighten up and look him dead in the eye. “That’s right, Sir.”

He leans back and studies you. He’s fighting a smirk now, but that mischievous green gives everything away. “Because you wanted my attention.”

“Yes.”

“And this is how you thought you’d get it.”

“Yes.”

“And how is that working for you so far, little one?”

“Pretty well, actually. You’re here, and you’re pissed, so…”

He leans closer. So suddenly, in fact, that it makes a breath catch in your throat and your eyes pop open.

He rests his hands on his knees and stares right through you. “Fine,” he agrees in an almost devious purr. “If you want me to punish you, darling, I will. In fact, I’d like nothing more than to bend you over my knee right now and feel your skin grow hot from my hand.”

You swallow.

“And then, once you’re fucking soaking my trousers, I’ll sit you down and return your generous favor.” He smiles. “And you…will thank me for every single spank and every single orgasm. The only words I will hear out of this mouth are, ‘Yes, Sir,’ ‘No, Sir,’ and ‘Thank you, Sir.’ Is that understood?”

You nod sheepishly. “Yes, Sir.”

“Good.” He straightens up. “You know what to say if you want to stop, yes?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Tell me.”

“Yellow or red.”

“Good. And what’s our safe word if you’d like to pause the dominant, submissive relationship and just be us?”

“Sunflower.”

“Good girl.” He reaches for your chin, pinching your cheeks tight between his fingers before forcing your head up. “What’s your color right now?”

“Green, Sir.”

“And you understand that my punishment is not a reward for this behavior?” He grips you a touch harder. “Just because I’m giving you what you want doesn’t mean I approve of the means in which you got it?”

Your lashes flutter as you nod in his hold. “I understand…Sir.”

“But you’re not the least bit sorry…are you?”

Slowly, you shake your head.

He smiles to himself before dipping down once again until his lips are only inches from yours. “I plan to change that.”

Your stomach flips.

With that, he releases you, and nods toward the bedroom. “Go. Wait on the bed. I’ll be in when I feel like it.”

You don’t waste another second. You run toward the bed and you sit on the edge and you wait like a good girl. You obey him because you know how badly you want what comes next.

He takes his time. He has another drink. Slips off his shoes. Maybe even answers a few texts. Then, after he’s finished teasing you, he strolls into the bedroom.

He says nothing as he takes a seat beside you on the mattress. He hardly even looks at you. His expression is stoic—unrelenting. The way it always is when he’s slipping further into the punishing dominant role. 

“Come,” he says, and pats his thigh. 

You do. You crawl over his lap and lay your stomach over his knees, bare ass eager and waiting. 

He squeezes your hip. “Are you ready, little one?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good.” He smooths his palm over the curve of your left cheek before there’s a sharp smack to the right. 

You jolt, sucking in a quiet gasp. “Thank you, Sir.”

You hear him hum appreciatively. He does it again to the other side this time. Hard. Firm. 

“Thank you, Sir.”

Again and again. Sometimes on the same side, sometimes in a specific pattern. He goes until you’re nearly numb and tears are pooling in your eyes. The same way arousal is pooling between your legs. Exactly the way he wanted.

Because it’s not the pain that does it for you. It’s his pain. It’s the knowledge that he trusts you enough to do this. And you trust him enough to let him.

He wants to take the time to punish you and make you a better submissive. And even though you annoy him and challenge him, he wants to keep you around. He isn’t going to lose interest.

But most importantly, he enjoys it just as much as you do.

By the fifteenth spank—with a few moments of rest in-between—you’re raw and undoubtedly very warm. Despite his slight anger, he makes sure to caress your skin and show it a bit of care along with the abuse. He listens closely for your safe word, and he only continues once you’ve thanked him. A sign that you’re coherent and still present in the scene.

After a couple more, he stops. “Tell me again why I’m doing this. Let me know that you understand.”

Through a few sniffles, you manage to answer, “Because…I disobeyed your rule.”

“And?”

“…and I disobeyed you.”

“And?”

“I went to class without any panties.”

“Mm.” He seems to huff to himself. “What else?”

“I could have embarrassed you in front of your students and colleagues.”

“And?”

“…and I’m not sorry about any of it.” You glance over your shoulder. “I’m a bad submissive.”

“You are,” he agrees. “Quite possibly the worst. My sweet angel became my little devil overnight all because she’s an attention whore who needs Daddy to constantly put her in her place.”

He reaches for your jaw again and forces your attention on him.

“Is that what you are, darling? A greedy little slut who throws a tantrum anytime her dominant stays out late? You have to disrupt my life, my work, and my students because you’re so cock-dumb and desperate?”

Your heart is racing. The degrading comments make your insides wrench in the best way as you squeeze your thighs together. “…yes, Sir.”

“I provide for you,” he continues, pinching your cheeks with a rather unrelenting grip. “I care for you. I work hard to make money just so I can spend it on you. And what do I get in return? A disobedient little fuck-toy that can’t follow a single goddamn rule. All because she couldn’t tell me she missed me.”

He pulls you up until you’re sitting and your ass begins to throb in pain as you’re forced over the rough fabric of his trousers.

“Tell me you missed me,” he demands sharply. “Be a good girl for once and tell me what you really need.”

“You,” you breathe. “I need you, Professor. I missed you. I wanted you around.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that sooner, huh?” He wraps his fingers around the back of your neck. “Why did you play games with me?”

You pout. “Because I like playing with you.”

He scoffs. “You’re a brat. You’re a fucking brat and you need to be broken.”

With that, you’re nearly shoved off his lap as he moves to one of the dressers to search for something.

Handcuffs.

You already know what comes next and even though you know you won’t like it…you can’t help but feel just a little excited.

“Move to the headboard,” he says. “Hands on the bars.”

You scoot into position, wrists firm against the poles as he tightens the cuffs and makes sure they’re nice and snug. 

In this position, he can do anything he wants. He can fuck you, he can taste you, he can have both holes at once. And you can’t do anything but let him. 

Once you’re where he wants you, he gets off of the bed, and begins to unbutton his fancy shirt.

You enjoy the show. In fact, you practically drool as you watch those long, nimble fingers pop each button on the way down. The way the fabric slides against his tan, tattooed skin before dropping down his arms and onto the floor. The way he tugs on his belt before undoing his pants and letting those go as well.

And there he is. Clad in nothing more than his briefs, that beautiful, gorgeous body on display. He puts in quite a bit of time to keep up his appearance and stamina. If he’s not teaching and he’s not with you, he’s at the gym. He runs, he does yoga, he plays basketball. He’s a very fit man and you honestly can’t believe how lucky you are to reap the rewards of his hard work.

Your lips part, ready to call for him. Your eyes feel heavy with lust and your legs are practically trembling. You part them in anticipation as he drops his briefs and puts a firm hand around his cock.

He strokes himself a few times before he grabs his phone. You stare like you’re in heat and maybe you are because fuck, the way his tip is so red and swollen and absolutely delicious. And his hand, his glorious hand. Nothing has ever looked so good. The way he squeezes and pumps. The way his thighs flex as he walks back toward the lounge chair in the corner of the room to sit. The way the tattoos move with every thrust.

You blink. “Wait…what are you doing?”

His eyes snap to yours. “Did I say you could speak?”

“…no, but—”

“Excuse me?”

You exhale sharply. “No, Sir.”

“No.” He leans back, one hand still around his cock while the other rotates his phone until he can watch the screen clearly. “What I am doing is returning your favor.”

Your brows furrow.

“See…you wanted to touch yourself. Without me,” he explains almost smugly. “You wanted to torture me. When I couldn’t do anything about it. When I couldn’t touch you or feel you or taste you. So, I’m following your lead. I’m letting you watch. I’m letting you see everything that you’re missing.”

And you realize then. You understand. You understand and you fucking hate it because this is so much worse than what you were imagining.

“Harry…Harry, wait—”

He clicks his tongue and shoots you a startling look of waning. “What did I say?”

You whimper. “Sir, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I made a mistake. I was just…I missed you and I—”

“I don’t care,” he says before he hits a button on his phone and the speakers come alive with the sound of your voice. “You get to watch me while I get to watch you. And it’s a shame. Because now I have to waste it on myself instead of filling that sweet pussy the way you love.”

You whine again but it’s lost beneath the sounds of your pants coming from his phone. He doesn’t look at the real you. He looks at the disobedient version on the screen. The one with spread legs and a rather pornographic moan that almost embarrasses you.

He fists himself in the kind of way that makes every glorious muscle in his arm flex and tighten. It’s cruel how he makes you wait here, calling his name. Unable to do for him what he’s doing for himself.

“Look at you,” he exhales, lashes fluttering as he stares at your performance. “Stretching your little cunt with your fingers. Bet it felt good, didn’t it?”

“Yes…yes, Sir—”

“Did you think of me, little devil? Did you think of my fingers when you were fucking your little pussy. Did you pretend they were mine?”

You nod so fast, your head aches. “Yes, Sir.”

“I bet.” He squeezes the tip and hisses before moving back down. His chest is heaving, skin practically glowing beneath the lamp beside him. He’s beautiful like this. Jaw clenched and thighs spread. “I imagined your voice when I was in my meeting, watching. Didn’t have the sound on…but I knew. I know your sounds. Play them in my head on a loop.”

You yank on the cuffs and you don’t care that they’re cutting into your wrists. What he’s doing hurts so much more.

“And that fucking dildo,” he continues. He groans softly and his hips lift. “Yet another toy you aren’t meant to use without me. But there you are. Taking it so well. All the way, hm? Like it’s nothing.”

You need him to look at you. He’s so close and you just…you need him to put his eyes on your body and see the way you’re dying without him. It’s warm in his light and you think you might disappear if he doesn’t look at you just once before he finishes. 

“It’s such a shame,” he murmurs. “Such a shame that you’d rather have silicone than my cock.”

You sniffle. “Daddy, no—”

“And if that’s what you want, that’s what you’ll get. For the next week, if I decide you get to cum, I’ll use the toy. And then I’ll let you watch as I finish myself off alone.” Finally, he looks up, and you want to wilt. “Or maybe I’ll use a toy, too. Maybe the fleshlight we got.”

Tears dance down your cheeks. You wish he was inside of you right now. Fucking you, stretching you. Pressing down on the bulge in your belly so you can really feel him. His hand is nothing compared to your pussy and you both know it.

“Professor, please—”

“Uh-uh,” he tuts. “No. You don’t get to cry. You don’t get to beg or feel sorry. You asked for this. You wanted to hurt me. To be punished and be noticed. So, I’m noticing you, darling. And what I’ve noticed is that I’ve been far too lenient with you.”

You squeeze your thighs in an attempt for relief, but it does nothing and he knows it.

“See, I thought you were good.” He rests his head back against the chair, overcome with pleasure, and you know he’s trying hard to hold out. “I thought…that when I asked you to do something, you did it. That if you needed me…if you needed to cum…you talked to me. You followed our rule and you obeyed. But clearly I don’t punish you enough if you think slipping your panties into my coat is a fun little game.”

“Sir…Sir, I don’t, I’m—”

“Or maybe they’re just the wrong sort of punishments,” he barrels on. “What you really wanted was to be spanked and tied up. Maybe even wanted me to use my belt, hm? Be rough with you? Make you cry? And I gave it to you. Because I’m a good dominant. But I need to be a better one. And a better dominant makes sure his submissive learns her lessons.”

You try to sit up. Catch his eye again. Plead with him. Because you don’t like where this is going.

“Starting now, your punishment will hurt. It will teach. If you so much as roll your eyes when I speak to you, I’ll have you sleeping in the guest room until you can fix your attitude.” He glances over his phone screen and hums when he sees you finish. “And if you try to pull another stunt like you did today, you won’t get to cum at all, and I might even send you back to your apartment.”

The tears feel hot as they drip down your chin. “Daddy…”

“Tell me you understand,” he demands of you now. “Tell me that you hear my rules. That you plan to obey them and respect them the way you need to obey and respect me.”

You’re tempted to throw a tantrum. To thrash and cry and beg, but you know it’ll only make things worse. So, you make a quick motion with your head, and whimper, “Yes, Sir.”

And your submissive reply is what tips him over the edge. He cums—hard—and with a rather lewd moan before spilling all over his hand, stomach, and thighs. 

You hate it. He was right, it is wasted. Staining his skin instead of yours. To be washed off and disposed of instead of slipping down your throat or filling your cunt. A cruel, sadistic punishment that he seems to enjoy.

And he still doesn’t look at you. He doesn’t acknowledge your pain. Pretends you’re not even in the room. Instead, he grabs a washcloth from one of the drawers and cleans himself up before coming over to you. So there’s no chance you’ll get even a single drop.

He sits on the bed beside you and looks down. He pinches your chin—softer this time—and makes your tear-filled eyes look at him.

“I expect you to follow these rules, little one,” he repeats gently. “And I expect you to understand why you’re being punished. I don’t do it to hurt you. In fact, it hurts me more than it hurts you. Having to send you away or use a toy instead of giving you my cock? That’s not what I want. But it’s what you deserve. And I have to be a good dominant and make sure you learn your lesson.”

You try to nuzzle yourself closer to his hand and he smiles. “I do understand, Daddy, and I’m sorry. Just…just missed you.”

His expression softens now and he seems gutted. “So you said. And I’d like to know what I’ve been doing to make you feel so neglected so that it doesn’t happen again.”

You shake your head quickly. “Nothing, Sir. Just…your hours have been later. And sometimes I have a lot to study. And by the time we’re both finally home, we have to sleep. And then I feel like I haven’t seen you in weeks.”

He coos and reaches down to press a kiss to the tip of your nose. “Oh, darling. I know life is a bit hectic right now. And I haven’t called to check-in as much as I should, have I?”

You sniffle. “You have. But a check-in doesn’t replace the real thing.”

“I know.” He leaves a kiss to your cheek now. “I’m so sorry, my love. With the end of the semester, I’ve got so much grading to do, and so many final projects to oversee. There’s a lot of discussion happening in our department, and I’ve been pulled in a lot of different directions. I’ve been absent and neglecting one of my favorite priorities. And for that, I’m so sorry. And I will try to do better. Can you forgive me?”

You smile and nod as quickly as you can. “Always, Daddy.”

He chuckles. “My good girl. But you know that just because I haven’t been as present doesn’t give you a right to act out, yes?”

“…yes, Sir.”

“And I expect you to talk to me in the future if you’re feeling like this?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good. Do you have any questions for me?”

You nod again. “Can you please hold me?”

His smile feels like a breath of spring. “Of course.”

He undoes the cuffs and takes careful hold of your wrists. He grabs some calming salve from the nightstand beside him and applies it to the slight marks on your skin, just to make sure you’ll be all right and won’t feel any more pain. And once it’s on, he pulls the covers back, and tucks you both in.

You feel good in his arms, your cheek against his heart. There’s still a very prominent ache between your thighs but you know better than to ask him to relieve it. This is part of your lesson. He’ll make it up to you later—even if he only uses a toy to do so. But it won’t even matter because it’s him. And you’ll take anything he gives you.

The slight scruff on his face scratches your forehead as he rubs it against you to make you squeal. And you feel so happy now that he’s your Harry again. The man you feel safest with. 

“Harry?” you whisper after the room has gone quiet.

“Hm?”

“I really am sorry about the panties. I didn’t want you to get caught.”

He laughs softly and kisses your temple. “I think if anything, it would have given me points.”

You grin. “The girls would have been so jealous.”

“Oh, I don’t think so.”

“I do. You’re hot, Professor. I don’t have to be your student to know all of your students want to fuck you.”

He glances down with a smirk. “All of them, hm?”

“Every single one. Have you seen yourself? Have you seen what you wear? And your hair and that beard and those eyes—”

“Okay,” he murmurs, and cups your cheek. “You’re very sweet, darling. And maybe you should give me your panties more often so I can remind everyone who I belong to.”

Your heart skips. The word belong means something more to the two of you than it might to anyone else. As his submissive, you do belong to him.

But he belongs to you, too. You belong to each other. This is a partnership—a relationship, no matter the dynamic. And the idea of him flaunting your claim on him makes you giddy.

“Daddy?” you whimper.

“Yes, little one?”

 “Can we please change the subject before this gets any worse for me?”

His brows furrow. “Worse?”

You shift your legs between his and his eyes widen when he feels the smearing of arousal against his thigh. 

“Ah,” he breathes before smiling. “M’sorry, honey. Know it must really ache, hm?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“And after all this edging, it’d probably feel so good to cum, wouldn’t it?”

Another nod. “Yes, Professor.”

“Mmm.” He kisses you. “Too bad. Maybe next time, yeah?”

You groan but you do kiss him back. Because you know that next time…

He’ll make it worth it.

Hehe this was fun and I am so down to explore them more later if we ever want!!! THANK YOU FOR READING 😭💞

~ Main Masterlist

Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞

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[hwallazia]

ANT!FRAGILE – 최산

synopsis . in which you pamper your successful boyfriend after his dream night at coachella.

pairing . choi san & fem!reader

genre . smut (mdni!) fluff at the end, comfort, established relationship, idol!au, and a poor attempt of comedy.

taglist . @bro-atz @purplenimsicle | apply to join my taglist ♡

word count . 3,1k

DISCLAIMER! unprotected sex (wrap before tap!), bath sex, slight degradation? (reader’s referred as “dumb girl” once), dirty talk, softdom!san, sub!reader, dacryphilia?, slight overstimulation, hickeys, size difference, bulge kink, cow girl position, petnames (princess, love, darling & more), teasing, squirt, suggestive language (yn tells wooyoung to kill himself, jokingly! they’re two very friendly friends ;)), coachella san (as a warning itself, yes).

NIC’S NOTES this took way too long for no reason at all (⁠￣⁠ヘ⁠￣⁠;⁠) but here it is! my brain rot of coachella san (ofc with teeth rotting fluff at the end bc i’m the one writing it) also, lowercase is intentional! (again, too lazy to write it properly;;)

you should’ve seen it coming after you found out that your boyfriend, san, would be performing at an event as important as coachella. not that you were complaining though.

you knew how much your boyfriend loves attention, how much it turned him on to hear the fans scream for him, and how the cameras adjust their lens to zoom in on his face or his toned muscles from dancing and moving from side to side. there were constant conversations in which san would ask you “should i wear this?”, “if i unbutton a couple of buttons will i get a reaction from atiny?” of course, you’d tell him dismissively that no matter what he does, he’d always get a reaction from everyone, from you especially.

but taking off his shirt in the middle of a concert? really?

you had already seen him without clothes on the upper part of his body, of course, —and also without clothes down there, but let’s omit details—. the thing here’s that you knew how cautious he was with his clothing, always trying to cover what was most important. but this surprised you, and immensely.

it is, in fact, a sight for sore eyes. but a certain level of jealousy invaded your body; you liked to think that you were the only one with the privilege of seeing his well-worked body. but now millions of people and locals would have photos and videos of your shirtless boyfriend on stage. you definitely couldn’t accept it, even though the entire internet already knows exactly what ateez’s choi san looks like underneath the expensive fabric that covers him at concerts.

you were fully aware that this was his job, and that he was paid for it, but did it really have to be him? why not any other member? maybe seonghwa? or mingi! what about him? he also has a pretty active and... desperate fanbase. it was obvious that more than one fan would pay to get, at least, a glimpse of his abs. so, with so many options, why was your boyfriend the exposed person?

but of course you couldn’t show up in his dressing room with a jealous expression clearly decorating your face, you had to act like the sweet and tender girlfriend you were and put jealousy aside for a moment. your boyfriend had just finished performing on a dream stage for any artist, you couldn’t ruin his night because of a little scene.

you weren’t a jealous or toxic lover; you were a conservative one. you liked knowing that you were special to san and you expected exclusivity from him; consequently, he would receive the same treatment. but you should’ve expected it when you started dating choi san. he’s an idol and that's his job: to cause, in any way, the attention of the fans which, consequently, would keep them afloat or flying through the charts.

but, that was an indelible feature of yours. therefore, in some way, you would make it noticeable.

you hit your knuckles a few times, with moderate intensity, against the modern metallic door decorated by a gold star that highlighted your boyfriend’s band name. you watched as the handle turned slightly and opened the door wide, managing to discover wooyoung with a foaming glass of champagne that found its rest in the palm of her hand. behind his figure, you could see mingi sitting on a noticeably comfortable leather couch next to yunho, both of them clinking their glasses together with a clink; yeosang and seonghwa taking a selfie in the mirror and jongho and hongjoong talking animatedly, perhaps about the upcoming scenarios you thought.

“what the hell are you doing here?” wooyoung said, looking at you confusingly. you narrowed your eyes slightly at his quick lack of courtesy.

“good night to you too, wooyoung. you were incredible out there.” you replied sarcastically, hoping he would finally greet you properly.

“oh thank you so much. but seriously, what are you doing here?” he asked once again.

“what do you mean what am i doing here? i came to congratulate y’all for the show because you totally killed it. all the atiny around me went absolutely feral because of you guys.” you praised, and wooyoung grinned nicely. jongho and hongjoong came up behind him, intrusively joining the conversation.

“well thank you very much, yn.” jongho responded and you gave him your purest smile, truly meaning your words.

“but i also came here to congratulate my boyfriend personally?” you interrogated since his figure wasn’t appearing in your visual field.

“that’s why i was asking! damn, you really don’t listen." wooyoung sentenced, his gaze being comparable to that of a mother scolding her daughter. “as soon as the concert was over, he changed and went to the hotel to see you. he thought you’d be there.”

“but i don’t have a ride home, and my phone died” you explained, doe-eyed as you waited for wooyoung, or any of the boys, to take the hint and quickly take you to the hotel to your boyfriend.

“you could just ask for it, you know?” wooyoung tsked, but finally surrendered to your big, brown eyes with a sigh. “give me two seconds to look for the car keys. i’ll take you there.”

and that’s what he did as fast as lighting since he knew they’d only have that night all for themselves before flying back out to korea. the next day would be full of promotion of their songs to the locals and their stage in coachella, so san wouldn’t be able to even spend a bit of his day with you. 

during the ride to the hotel, wooyoung spoke, “hey just don’t tire him out since we have quite the amount of work to do tomorrow.”

“you know, you could say something like ‘have a nice time together’, ‘take care of him’, ‘call me if you need anything-” before you could continue, he interrupted you briskly. 

“oh hell no. the both of you are responsible adults who know how to take care of themselves without someone else’s help so don’t even try to bother me tonight because i’m exhausted as shit.” he confessed, hands adjusting their position on the steering wheel when cornering.

“oh so now you’re saying i’m a burden?” you asked ironically, knowing wooyoung would catch it was only a joke.

“oh you do know how to think!” he smiled looking away from the road for a bit to lock gazes with you. wrinkles decorated the corner of your eyes as you closed them a little.

“go kill yourself.” you huffed.

“shut up, you love me,” his puckering lips sent a flying kiss to you. he stopped his words briefly, “actually you kind of have to, since i’m taking you with your beloved boyfriend.”

“touché” you agreed. 

the ride to the hotel was quick and calm since you were talking and joking animatedly with wooyoung. and when you least expected it, the car stopped moving. consequently, you turned to look out through your window, yellow lights, and gold decorations hurting your eyes with how beaming they looked, even when it was one in the morning.

“here we are.” wooyoung turned to look at you, his sincere eyes transmitting warmth, “remember what i told you-”

“yeah, i got it mom,” you answered, rolling your eyes vexingly. the man gave you an annoying gaze, so you replied, “what? you’re acting as if you were my mother! chill out, for fuck’s sake. as you said, both of us are responsible adults who know how to take care of ourselves.” you used his own words as a weapon to defend yourself against his exaggerated concern.

“whatever. just go,” he unlocked the car’s door so you could get out of the car once you finished your little conversation. “he’s been a pain in the ass lately because he hasn’t had time to see you.”

“imma get going then,” your hand approached the car door handle and finally opened it and got out of the vehicle. “thank you, woo. i owe you one.”

“you owe me way too many to count ’em” wooyoung wheezed. “but yeah, we’ll add it to the list.” he gave you one final smile, which you reciprocated sweetly.

you finally closed the door and watched wooyoung make his way back to where coachella was taking place, he’d probably go to enjoy the rest of the night’s stages with his members. you genuinely wished for him to do well and arrive with the boys safely, but now you had something more important to do: pamper your successful boyfriend after his dream night at coachella.

after you saw wooyoung getting lost on the dark LA highway, you turned around and ran towards the hotel to get into the elevator and quickly dial the floor of your boyfriend’s room.

once there, before your brain could think about it, your legs moved on their own and guided you recklessly toward the door. you hit your knuckles against it a few times, but there was no response.

“sannie? it’s yn. are you there?” you mutter softly against the door frame. another moment of silence came in response.

remembering your boyfriend had given you the key card, you pulled it out of your coat and faced it against the handle. after a soft peep sounded, you opened the door. just to be greeted with a dim-lighted room.

you wandered around the room, looking carefully at the floor so as not to bump your feet against any furniture or step on any item of clothing that, perhaps in a hurry, had been forgotten on the carpeted floor. you kept repeating your boyfriend’s name until the silence stunned you. the dazzling city lights illuminating what the poor little lamp that rested on the nightstand could not illuminate.

suddenly everything went silent. until you heard, in the back of your head, a faded tune. you quickly recognized the melody and started humming the song, the lyrics of the weeknd’s starboy being the only thing you could think about.

once again, you knocked a few times on the door, this time receiving a response from the other side. a dull “who is it?” was heard. “it’s me, love. yn.” you replied.

“oh, babe! come in!” he said happily, you could imagine the adorable smile drawn on his lips.

you turned the handle gently. and lord, didn’t the scenery you were greeted with turned you on.

your boyfriend’s toned body resting on the bathtub, lavender-scented bubbles covering most of it, his nipples being exposed to the fresh bathroom air that would soon turn into a heavier one, and his arms resting on each side of the tub. a serene, yet excited, expression decorating your boyfriend’s gaze.

“hi, beautiful,” he welcomed you. his eyes becoming crescent moons due to the effect of his beaming smile.

“there they are, those beautiful eyes i love so much,” you mumbled, walking right next to him to caress his left cheek soothingly. “how’re you feeling, champ?”

“alive as fuck,” both of you giggled at his response, your loving gaze locking with his for a moment of comfortable silence. suddenly you felt his hand fondling yours.

“mind joining me here?” his sharp eyes turning darker than they already were as they looked at you. fortunately for your boyfriend, you were willing to give him the moon and the stars that night.

you still can’t explain how you ended up on top of san, the water covering up to your navels, while he moved his thumb masterfully over your clit and his fingers repeatedly entered your cunt. his phalanges stretched you deliciously, causing several moans and moans from you.

“is that the spot, sweetheart? you're shaking so much.” his voice was hoarse and deep as the ocean, causing dizziness to affect your common sense.

“y-yes, don’t stop, please- ahh! ngh...” you could barely answer.

“sorry, love.” he announced before stopping his movements, drawing a annoyed, pathetic whine from your swollen lips. before you could insult him, he spoke first. “’wanna feel your tight cunt cumming around me, pretty.” during his brief pause, a pitiful cry from you was heard. “will you let me?”

“yes!” you answered desperately, “y...yes, i’m all yours, sannie. use me.”

san let out deep groan, which resonated inside your ears and made your heart jump out of your ribcage for a second. you rapidly adjusted yourself so you could reach the height of his crotch and massage his veiny, prominent erection, then align it to your entrance.

“go down slowly, don’t want my pretty girl to break.” he expressed, his soft, low voice driving you insane. still, you looked at him with cocked eyebrows.

“break? hah. surely, coachella drove your ego up to the clouds.” your eyes stabbing daggers into his. his hands found a home on your hips, slightly drawing them down to insert his cock inside you. your hand landing on his bare chest stopping his every move.

“nah. it’s just that you’re kind of fragile after all.”

you knew he was messing with you, provoking you. if there was one thing he always reminded you of, it was how strong, determined, and passionate you were, and it was one of the many features that made him fall deeply in love with you.

“let’s see who’s the fragile one here” you went down without warning on his cock, surprisingly touching your cervix all at once. a moan was snatched from both of you. your shaking body began to move carefully up and down him.

“f-fuck, yn- mm,” you heard a strangled moan from your lover, his lower lip was caught in between his teeth.

“f-fragile? that’s y...your- ah! your shit ass cock.” you manage to respond, notoriously provoking him.

“i don’t think it’s a shit ass cock, beautiful- ngh.” he panted, “just look how full you are.” he held your hand delicately despite the momentary brutality and placed it over your belly, a small lump formed there, “full of me, and my shit ass cock.” san breathed, kissing your collarbone, leaving cute lovebites in it. “you cry and beg for it every single night, hun. what does that have to say about you, hm?” a pitiful whine left your lips, demonstrating san that you were truly incapable of formulating coherent words. you were just too fucked out.

“well, lemme tell you,” he continued. “you’re just a dumb girl who needs to be fucked by a big fucking cock, otherwise, you don’t stop whining.” he said profoundly, his voice stimulating all your senses at once as he absolutely ravished you. “isn’t that right, princess?”

“i- ah! sannie, pleeease.” you blubbered, your eyes shedding the most precious tears.

“i asked you a question, darling. and i expect you to answer.” he sentenced sternly, grabbing your jaw and mushing your cheeks together. a pout was, therefore, formed on your lips.

“yes! yesyesyes, you’re right. i just need and think about being fucked by your big fucking cock-” you acknowledged, immersed and lost in the feeling, feeling like he was fucking you just like the first time.

“you’re such a cutie when you whine for me.” he chuckled while you, on the other hand, couldn’t hold back your screams anymore. his eyes stuck to your bouncing breasts, and your parted lips.

“what happened, princess? is it too much?” he cooed at you, looking at you adoringly, his eyes beaming at the sight of you.

“n-no,” you tried with all your might not to stumble over your words, but it was almost impossible since your thoughts were interrupted by the intrusion of your boyfriend's cock into your tight cunt.

“no? let’s see if it is now,”

your bastard boyfriend directed his hand toward your vagina, his ring finger and middle finger deliciously touched your clit. san watched as you exploded inside, his cock was bringing you closer to an abysmal orgasm that you doubted you could withstand, but you were a masochist, and despite all of this, you continued to go up and down on his cock sloppily.

“san! i’m s-so close- fuck!” your frowned eyebrows, reddened cheeks, swollen lips, and arched back made san float, he couldn’t worship you more than he already did at that moment. he was internally so grateful that you were his. only his to kiss, to hug, to fuck, and to adore.

you had had many guys behind you in the past, and they all promised the same thing: ‘i promise you the moon and the stars’, but absolutely none of them reached the level that choi san reached, who promised and delivered to make you see the stars, the moon and– fuck, he made you see the entire milky way every time you were with him.

“go on, babe. let it out for me, i got you,” he hid his face in the crook of your neck when you slowed down bouncing, and then he lifted it up. his lips brushed your neck, a position which he took advantage of to lick and suck on the side of it, adorning it with some nice and new hickeys next to the ones he did some moments ago.

san did everything he could to give you a good orgasm, a strong one, but pleasant. he loved seeing your expression as you had reached the peak of pleasure, a squirt erupted between your bodies, causing strangled moans to come from both mouths. your walls became tighter, squeezing out every drop of cum held in san’s hard cock. you felt how a strip of that viscous, white essence warmed your insides even more. the feeling even being comfortable in some kind of way.

“see? i didn’t break, idiot. hah,” you huffed out a sigh, looking at that beautiful face that you would never get tired of.

“mhm, you’re always so strong and beautiful. aren’t you, my love?” he reacted breathlessly as he stroked your cheek, as if it were the finest diamond.

“always, and only for you,” you wrinkled your nose as you looked at him foolishly in love.

you turned and felt stupid every time you were around this man, but what could you say? you weren’t complaining at all.

that man was capable of loving you in all your facets, in all your states and moments.

you were also grateful that choi san was yours, and solely yours.

“well, big boy,” you started, settling into his chest with him still inside you, keeping you warm, “i’m very proud of you and your achievements, love. you really brought home the trophy.”

“actually, you came here all by yourself.” he flirted, a cocky smile causing a giggle to ring inside your ribcage. “hm. thank you, princess. but the actual trophy is you and will always be you.”

you hid your face with your hands, splashing a little water unintentionally, “don’t start being all mushy, you softie. i’m gonna cry otherwise,”

he laughed, his voice causing your skin to vibrate lightly. “okay okay. wanna finally wash up?”

“can we just... stay like this? just for a bit,” you closed your eyes, enjoying the warmth your boyfriend provided you.

“of course, princess. whatever you want,” he held you in his arms safely, making you sleepy. two minutes of silence filled with tranquility and love passed, until san started talking, “remember you’re always my trophy.” he muttered lowly with his honey-dripping voice.

“babe,”

“hm?”

“shut up.”

| masterlist

[griffonsgrove]

Hiiii!!! See your doing writing requests for Hazbin, Its my hyperfixation so I am in need of more content 👀 so I'd like to request maybe Vox general or NSFW headcanon ( either one is good lol-) with a afab reader maybe? This is my first time requesting something like this so sorry if I'm a little nervous or bad at requesting. I think this is how people are supposed to request? XD

General Dating Headcanons | Vox

a/n: You're totally alright dear! You said everything just fine! As I've stated before, I got early access to the first two episodes, and it's been so interesting to analyze vox's character! I hope I can do him justice!! He's starting to grow on me now. I'm gonna stick with a gn!reader just because these are general headcanons and I want them to be suited for anyone!

fandom: Hazbin Hotel

wordcount: 1299

cw: SPOILERS FOR HAZBIN HOTEL, swearing, vulgar content, stalking, death and mentions of death/murder., toxic/absuive relationships.

(PLATONIC):

Vox’s got eyes EVERYWHERE in hell. There is no escaping his line of sight unless you go completely off the grid. Which is pretty difficult to do when the entirety of pentagram city is covered head to toe in VoxTech.

However, if you don't pose a threat to him, he really doesn't give a shit about you otherwise, and won’t pay that much attention to your life.

When you first fell into hell, you were mostly confused as to how you wound up here in the first place. That quickly subsided into fear as you noticed the large variety of demons and sinners casually walking down the sidewalk like it was an average tuesday. 

You’ll never forget the sight of seeing a demon gnaw off the arm of another and swallow it whole, like it was an all-you-can-eat buffet. 

You wander aimlessly down the streets, keeping to yourself and being very cautious of those around you. Your clothes were in tatters, and you didn't have any form of money whatsoever, what were you to do??

You had two options: Somehow find a job in this new horrific realm, or, die.

You didn't care too much for the latter.

This is how you stumble across one of the largest studios/clubs in hell, owned by probably the most feared overlords in pentagram city. The V’s. 

You get hired to be nothing more than a waiter/waitress, to serve the patrons of the club, mostly serving them their drinks.

You weren't too fond of the work uniform either. It left nothing to the imagination, and exposed alot of skin, far too much to your liking. The job actually paid somewhat decently though and it was enough to be able to sustain a living. You were quick to rent out the nearest apartment.

One day, while you’re out on the main floor, making your rounds, your eyes briefly lock with the TV demon across a sea of sinners. Call it cheesy, but it was almost like a spark went off the moment he laid eyes on you. Which is something that doesn't happen often with the tech-savvy overlord. Who were you??

He lazily beckons you over with a claw, to which you obediently follow, although it doesn't hide the sheer nervousness written all over your face, He gives you his drink order in that sultry, velvet voice of his, eyeing you up. You gulp slightly and are quick to bring him his order. He thought you were so cute trembling for him.

He begins to stalk observe you closer after that. If you have any electronic devices he’ll watch you through your screens, trying to get a glimpse into what your life was like outside of work. The things you enjoyed doing in your free time, favorite shows, foods etc.

He def goes through your search history.

He would start showing up more in the sections you worked at, oftentimes minding his business, but occasionally striking up a conversation with you.

You did have to admit he was quite the charmer, his smooth voice was hypnotic to you.

OBSESSIVE TENDENCIES. If he notices some creep won't leave you alone while you're working, he’ll take care of them personally, it’s never a pretty sight afterwards. He cant have anyone taking what's his.

You're oblivious to his stalking and possessiveness, you don't think much of it, maybe that's because he puts on a friendly face when you’re around him.

But after some time of getting to know you, He’s the one that eventually asks you out on a “date”. You’re skeptical at first, but decide to accept his offer. And also partially because you were afraid of what would happen if you said no.

(ROMANTIC):

Ngl it’s kind of a situationship in the beginning.

Vox is a busy man, it’s constant work maintaining the studios (especially valentinos temper) and managing the entirety of hell's technology. So, he may ghost you at first.

That being said, He will still keep an eye on you. He often watches through your phone while you sleep, just to make sure you’re safe. Hell is a dangerous place after all.

Speaking of, you’re now under the protection of the V’s, so that’s a plus! You never have to worry about another demon laying a finger on you. They usually never get close enough to anyways.

He very easily gets jealous. He won't show it on the outside because he has an image to uphold, but you can tell every time from that crazed look in his eyes.

Vox is a possessive lover; he wants to keep you all to himself. If he could, he’d keep you locked up by his side all day.

CONTROLLING. He HAS to know where you’re at, at all times, and who you’re going to be with (lest you face one of his tantrums). Also dictates what you wear, He likes to dress you up to his liking, like you’re his own personal doll.

Insecure much?

Say goodbye to privacy btw. He constantly has you in the back of his mind and a watchful eye on you. It can be kind of suffocating at times. The two of you have gotten into a few arguments because of this.

Valentino gets jealous of you too. How dare you take his boy-toy away from him? He’s often giving you the stink eye and will threaten you behind vox’s back. You’re too scared to tell Vox, because you don't want to face Val’s wrath.

You know briefly of his and Val’s “relationship” it all had seemed very one-sided and completely unhealthy.

You're often having to calm Vox down. The man has a very short temper and is easily provoked. 

Imagine you pressing little kisses to his screen after he found out about Alastor’s return. He remains stoic, but secretly enjoys your affection.

Some of the pet names he loves to call you include; Doll, Dear, Darling, Sweetheart, Babe.

Pretty old-fashioned ik, but he's a classy man alright?

He tends to be pretty touchy, always having a clawed hand on the small of your back, or an arm wrapped around your waist. It’s more of a possessive trait of his, to keep what's his close.

He loves having you sprawled on his lap while he’s in his screen room, you stay nuzzled into his side, often taking naps while he does broadcasts.

He TOTALLY spoils you btw. He’s one of the most powerful overlords in hell, ofc he has the money to show it. Whatever dingy apartment you had before, forget about it bc this man has you living in a penthouse suite in one of the most expensive apartment buildings. He sees you looking at something in a store or online?? Boom, it’s yours now.

He loves buying you clothes, as I’ve said before, you're his “doll” and he loves playing dress up with you.

And if you buy him something?? He’s taken by surprise at first, he’s never really been on the receiving end of that affection, so whatever it is you give him he’ll cherish it.

If you ever have someone bothering you, or want to get rid of, you just say the word babe. He’ll be feeding them to his sharks >:)

The man is emotionally constipated, ok?? All he’s ever known from relationships is what he shared with Val (and trust me that was a train wreck). He’s rough around the edges, short-tempered and isn't always easy to get along with, and he’s incredibly possessive which can be suffocating to deal with at times. This probably stems from him not wanting to actually be alone, He doesn't want you to slip out of his grasp, so he keeps a tight leash on you. But underneath all these flaws, he really does love you and care about you. At the end of the day, He just wants someone that will stay.

[hannieehaee]

Imagine workaholic gf!reader of equally workaholic bf!woozi where they both take a few days leave to enjoy each other and book a luxurious honeymoon suite hotel room thinking they will have a lot of sex with their days off but instead end up with cuddling and lazy make out sessions because their exhaustion just swooshes over them owo

18+ / mdi

content: workaholic!woozi x workaholic!reader, afab reader, heavy mentions of smut, making out, very suggestive, etc.

wc: 1262

a/n: i can really picture jihoon dating a fellow workaholic lol anyways thank u for requesting<3

masterlist

"fuck, finally," you sighed in relief, letting yourself fall backwards onto the cool bed in the luxury hotel room jihoon had reserved.

after endless weeks of equally endless work, you finally had a week off, which jihoon had strategically coordinated with his own time off.

the two of you were extremely hard workers – to a fault. when jihoon bad first met you, he worried that maybe his addiction to constant work would eventually drive you away, yet somehow it had continued to keep you right by his side. you preferred that he was a workaholic, you had once told him. there had apparently been a few prior relationships in which your heavy workload had led to irreparable issues. jihoon being equally as busy as you allowed you to work without feeling guilt of leaving your partner behind – jihoon felt the exact same way.

despite the unspoken agreement the two of you had in regards to the dynamic of your relationship, it sometimes still got to you when you'd realize how little time you were able to spend with your boyfriend – once more, jihoon felt the exact same way.

your individual lives were already difficult to navigate, but making time for each other was even more complicated. your exhaustion was a whole different issue. working as much as the two of you did, it was understandable that you'd spend the lulls in your schedule resting as much as you could rather than with each other. it was a sad truth, but still remained a truth.

it wasn't as if you spent no time together, though. you'd always either see each other in the mornings (either through call or in person – depending on whether jihoon was in the country at the time or not) or at night, always making sure to love on one another as a reminder of the thriving affection in your relationship. you'd also dedicate one night per week to have a stay-at-home date night. everything was perfectly tailored to your relationship, and the two of you were more than happy with it.

these past few weeks had been the issue. as jihoon had a comeback and you had an important project at work, it was virtually impossible for you to see each other as of late. it got to you in all the worst ways, making you moody, irritable, tired, and even sexually frustrated. not only were you physically exhausted of the constant work, but you had been deprived of your daily dosage of jihoon. you had not slept together in weeks, nor had you even had a meal with each other. cuddling? completely out of the question with the insanely packed schedule you'd been having.

it all went like this for the both of you for a few weeks, up until everything managed to reach a standstill. you had a few days off, and jihoon had the ability to move some things around to match your time off. without so much as one word from you, jihoon had decided it was the perfect time to whisk you away on a private getaway at some luxury hotel of your choice.

jihoon wasnt really one to go out much, unbeknownst to you, but jihoon had been feeling extremely pent up from the last moment he got to have you all to himself. the short glimpses of you he managed to catch throughout the busy weeks were the only thing that had kept him going. the singular thought of the next time he'd he'd get to have you was the only thing occupying his mind. renting out a room for the week was the most obvious of choices to jihoon. he would finally get to explore the sheets with you.

upon arriving to the hotel, jihoon chuckled at how pleased you seemed with the place, immediately letting yourself loose on the bed and sighing in contentment. putting down the suitcases, jihoon joined you soon after, still fully clothed as he laid next to you, staring up at the ceiling.

"are you as tired as i am?", you asked him.

he hummed in affirmation, "yeah. what do you wanna do first?"

the unspoken agreement to utilize the week on sex had filled up the room before you had even arrived, so it was obvious what he was referring to.

"i'll take a quick bath first, okay, baby?", you said as you began to get up, stretching your muscles in the process.

"sure, baby. i'll head down to the gym for a bit to unwind then. i'll see you in about an hour, then?"

with a sweet peck, you bid your boyfriend goodbye, giddy to get yourself relaxed and perfumed so your boyfriend could help you destress under the sheets.

~

the bath had been a huge success in terms of getting you relaxed. after an hour lying in the warmest, bubbliest, comfiest water imaginable to man, you felt like a brand new person. accompanied by a lavender-scented bath bomb, a glass of wine and your favorite netflix show playing in the background, you got out of that bath in the best mood you'd been in in weeks.

the one downside was how incredibly relaxed the bath had gotten you. you were so relaxed, you could've fallen victim to endless slumber in that bathtub. as much as you needed jihoon to fuck you to sleep, you weren't sure how well you'd be able to perform if you tried to return the favor.

luckily for you, that would not be an issue.

upon walking back into the room, now donning some comfortable pajamas, you were met with the sight of a fully-asleep jihoon, cocooned between the sheets as he snored softly. the sight had you swooning with affection for the boy. he was the softest, most relaxing thing you had ever seen.

you couldn't help yourself in making your way to him, somehow maneuvering yourself into his arms and under the sheets, feeling more relaxed than ever.

before you could even close your eyes, the boy shuffled behind you, mumbling against your ear as he cuddled further into you.

"baby?", he mumbled.

"sorry, baby. did i wake you?"

"hmm, no you're fine. i meant to stay awake for you, but the bed's just so damn comfy," he chuckled breathily, "i took a quick shower downstairs to prepare for, you know, but fuck, i'm just so tired," he whined.

you turned around in his arms, facing him, breaths almost intertwined due to the proximity.

"that's okay, hoonie. 'm so sleepy. maybe ... we could leave it for tomorrow? just sleep in and then we can have some fun tomorrow?" you suggested, pressing a soft peck to his lips.

his arms tightened around your waist, not allowing you to pull back all the way, "only if you kiss me some more," he murmured, eyes stuck to your lips.

"i can agree to that," you giggled, pressing a languid kiss to his lips as he stuck his tongue in your mouth, softly intertwining with your own in a wet kiss.

the rest of the evening was spent softly making out under the warm sheets, legs tangled up together and fully relaxed in each other's arms. sex was the last thing on your mind as you kissed each other every so often, mostly focused on holding onto one another and finding your slumber together. however, this exhaustion did not stop you from waking up the following day, claiming your highs from one another time after time throughout the day, ready to recharge at night and continue the pattern day after day.