#but I'm much much closer to the stage tonight | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fayes-fics · 1 month ago

Text

To All, A Good Night

Parings: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader (threesome), modern AU

Summary: 'Twas the night before Christmas at Bridgerton House, and many things are stirring...

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, MMF threesome, no incest. Dom/sub dynamics, brat taming, spanking, mild restraint, dirty talk, voyeurism/exhibitionism, vaginal fingering, masturbation, edging, vaginal sex, handjob, hair pulling, verbal degradation, orgasms, creampie, aftercare.

Word Count: 3.5k

Author's Note: Happy Holidays, everyone! Have a filthy Christmas threesome. This is a sequel to Driven To Distraction, which I've been meaning to write for over a year. Best to read that first if you haven't already. This immediately follows that eventful car ride. Thanks to @colettebronte for being an awesome beta. Enjoy! <3

As Benedict pulls the car up outside their impressive London family home, all you can think is that it looks beautiful, the foliage clinging to its handsome facade bedecked with lights.

It’s also the last place you expected to be tonight: a spirited spat with Anthony turning into something else entirely on your journey to London, with Benedict as an eager voyeur. Now, here you are with both Bridgerton boys—a flutter behind your ribs as to what awaits you behind those imposing doors.

Anthony rounds to your side of the car and chivalrously opens the door, offering a hand to help you out as Benedict retrieves the night bag you stopped at your place to grab from the boot of the car. Anthony doesn't let go as you walk up the steps to the front door.

“Welcome to Bridgerton House, y/n,” he smiles, entering a code onto a glowing keypad as the door silently pops open, revealing a grand hallway decorated so festively.

“This is beautiful,” you gasp, the hallways almost fully lit just by the huge twinkling tree and lighted garlands hanging from every rail.

“I think we should all have a nightcap, don't you?” Benedict offers smoothly, a warm hand landing on your lower back.

“Excellent idea, brother,” Anthony concurs, offering an elbow for you to take and leading you down a corridor from the grand hallway.

You are swept into a wood-panelled games room, a large billiards table taking centre stage, a bar across one side of the room and collections of wingback leather chairs arranged in clusters. Another Christmas tree makes the room glow. You wonder idly if they have a tree in every room.

“Your very own private club,” you jest lightly, impressed.

“Indeed,” Anthony chirps, releasing your hand to round behind the bar and grab an expensive whiskey bottle from one of the glass shelves. Benedict slides closer behind you as you watch Anthony pour out three generous helpings.

“No one really comes in here except the two of us and Colin,” Benedict assures. “And Colin is off in South America on his travels.”

“So this is a private space. Devoid of interruptions?” you smirk, leaning backwards into his warm body, unmistakable in your intentions, his hand curling possessively around your hip. You doubt anyone else is awake in the house anyway, seeing as it’s almost 2am on Christmas Day.

“Very much so,” Benedict rumbles, lips ghosting the shell of your ear.

You all grab a glass each and raise them in a silent toast. The caramel smoke of the drink is exceptional as it slides over your tongue.

“A game?” Anthony suggests, gesturing to the table.

“I'm terrible at it, but sure,” you shrug, thinking it an excellent excuse to have both teach you the correct technique, ideally close up.

“We will help,” Benedict chuckles as if he knows where your thoughts have slid before releasing his hold on you and moving to set up the table.

Within a few minutes, you have had both men instructing you. But you are not paying a jot of attention to their guidance, just enjoying the warm, solid press of their bodies as you line up each shot. It's Benedict’s second turn assisting you when Anthony throws out a statement that kicks things up a notch:

“I meant what I said in the car...” his words echoing into the crystal glass he sips from.

Anthony’s offer for you to fuck his brother while he watches rings in your mind as Benedict's hand slides over yours, guiding your placement.

“I just have one other condition,” Anthony appends, his stare intensifying.

“What’s that brother?” Benedict queries, his breath warm on your shoulder as you retract the cue from the ball, aiming as best you can.

“You fuck her right here, over this table,” Anthony breezes, making you miss the shot entirely, the ball spiralling way off to the left.

“That was sabotage,” you decry, even as molten heat settles low in your stomach at the very thought.

“Think of it as a Christmas gift for me,” Anthony quips, ignoring your indignation.

Benedict is still leaning over you, even though there is no reason for him still to be there, the warmth of his torso seeping through his shirt. You watch as Anthony stands, picks up his cue and bends over the billiards table directly opposite you to assess his shot.

“I warn you though, brother, this one is a handful,” he advises coolly, looking at Benedict over your shoulder as you stare at Anthony’s mouth, wanting to kiss him so bad your lips tingle. “You saw how she was in the car. She is a brat who needs to be brought into line. Isn't that right?” he taunts, snapping his gaze to you.

“Only to you, Bridgerton,” you challenge, your heart quickening as he raises an eyebrow. “If your brother is nice to me, I’ll be a good girl. Just for him,” you goad, a craving to push both of their buttons, tilting your pelvis a fraction into Benedict’s, an insistent swelling brushing your bum.

“But what if I'm not inclined to be nice either?” Benedict queries dangerously, his teeth grazing your earlobe. A depth charge of lust as you realise they are cut from a similar cloth.

“Then I’ll rebel against you too,” you murmur, stuttering as the hand on your hip suddenly slides over the round of your buttock and yanks up your dress, exposing your flesh and scrap of underwear to the air of the room.

“Will you now?” he dares, fingers swirling promisingly on your bare bottom.

Anthony chuckles again, seemingly uncaring he cannot take his shot with you still bent over the table, Benedict bearing you down onto the slightly ticklish green felt.

“Most certainly,” you vow, twisting to look coquettish over your shoulder, your core burning hot already.

He grabs your jaw so your mouths almost touch, and there is a sharp, stinging slap to your bottom cheek. It makes you moan over his lips, adding to the inferno between your legs.

“Behave,” Benedict warns in a tone that makes you want to slide to your knees before him.

“Never,” you challenge, your lips hovering on his, as out of the corner of your eye, you see Anthony withdraw, abandoning his cue, the game apparently over. He rearranges a chair to face you directly.

Well, he did say he wanted to watch…

“Her safeword is pineapple,” Anthony calls out nonchalantly as he settles into the wingback. “But she never uses it,” he smirks, the leather creaking slightly as he shifts his hips.

Benedict huffs a bemused noise over your lips; you taste the warmth of the whiskey on his breath.

“Kiss me,” you murmur.

There is another stinging slap to your bare bum, and again you groan.

“Only good girls get kisses,” Benedict teases, his chest rumbling against you. “Earn it.”

“How?”

He slides the billiards cue from your grip, standing upright.

“Hands behind your back.”

You follow the clipped order immediately, your chin resting on the felt. The cool, polished wood of the cue is fed between the crook of your elbows and your ribs, essentially pinning you down.

“If this moves, I stop,” his warning portentously, your stomach suddenly roaring with butterflies, on tenterhooks about what he might do.

He kneels behind you, large hands rounding your hips, tugging at your underwear, easing it over the globes of your bottom until it pooled around your heels. His breath is warm on your thighs as he taps your ankle to make you widen your stance, and then large hands pull your cheeks apart. You clench with excitement. To have one Bridgerton brother eat you out in an evening was wonderful; to have two seems miraculous. But instead, two long fingers trail down your slit and, with a force that robs your breath, hook into your leaking pussy. He groans as your walls cling hot and wet around his knuckles as he pumps in a rocking motion, his teeth grazing your bum.

“Come silently, then you earn a kiss,” he commands, and his fingers graze a spot inside that makes you want to scream, dragging harshly, making every hair on the nape of your neck stand on end.

Fuck, he knows precisely what he is doing too.

Your eyes lock with Anthony’s, who smirks at you across the room—making a show of toying with his straining fly. You want to kneel between his splayed legs and pull the metal tab open with your damn teeth.

Benedict’s fingers are merciless inside you, the air filling with wet, cloying suction sounds. Your hands flex, pinned in place, needing something to grasp onto, toes scrunching into the satin footbed of your strappy heels. Wanting to call out, moan, or make any kind of noise but knowing it’s forbidden. Instead, you curl your lips under your teeth and whimper as silently as you can to the onslaught.

‘Say my name,’ Anthony mouths exaggeratedly, as his zip relents and his cock springs forth. Your eyes ping greedily between his fist, which starts to pump his cock lazily, and his face.

You know what this is. Even as his younger brother is taking you apart, he wants you to call out his name—a fraternal competition that just adds a delicious thread of tension. You shake your head, not wanting to break Benedict’s silence rule, needing to come.

‘Who is the best you’ve had?’ Anthony pushes the topic, mouthing slowly, overenunciating even though no sound comes out, his face arrogantly handsome, a bead of precum glistening on his knuckles.

‘Bridgerton,’ you mouth in return, just as Benedict twists his fingers, and your eyes roll, face planting into the felt, uncaring of the drool escaping the corner of your mouth as you fight the urge to scream. His thumb swipes between your cheeks and begins to massage your other hole. Not pushing in, just a circular surface motion that makes you shiver; it feels so good.

Benedict laughs richly as his little finger spears forward and catches your clit. You can't help it; you scream into your mouth, so much overlapping sensation at once, your thighs shaking, your body tensing, so close to breaking.

“You’re close now, aren’t you?” Benedict smugly assesses, his fingers moving so fast inside you, and you nod enthusiastically, your forehead rubbing harshly over the baize.

As you begin to circle that blissful edge, lungs and clit burning, he withdraws and stands up behind you. You can sense his victorious, lopsided smile as he looks down on you, writhing and squealing behind your teeth, the frustration of being denied at the last minute too much.

“Oh, you’re right, brother,” he sounds winded, “she’s glorious.”

You know your face is flushed and your eyes wild as you try to twist and look pleadingly at him to do something, anything, to nudge you over the edge.

“Shh shhh,” he hushes your quaking, moving to one side of the table but placing a firm hand on your lumbar, your skin dewy under the sequin dress gathered there. You stop moving but twist your neck to pout up at him, a trickle running down your inner thigh as you do.

A long, elegant pointer finger, scented heavily with your arousal, traces your chin and then lips.

“Don't pretend this isn’t exactly what you want,” Benedict withers, dripping with conceit.

“Please,” you mewl.

“Oh dear, you spoke before you came,” Benedict gloats. “No kiss for you, my girl.”

“I don’t care, just please let me come,” you plead, the cue a solid yoke across your back as you note Anthony, still idly pumping himself, in the periphery of your vision.

“How have you not married this one?” Benedict calls casually to Anthony, but he doesn’t turn to look at his older brother, his gaze holding yours blisteringly. “I would have her tied willingly to my bed all day.”

Your insides flip at the very thought.

“She’s too wild to be a Viscountess,” Anthony responds laconically, cock still in hand.

Benedict’s thumb rubs around your ear, almost petting you like a cat. And you lean into his touch, desperate to do anything that will compel him between your thighs again.

“Hmmm, true,” Benedict hums, and you cry out as his other hand slaps your bottom. “Luckily for me,” he crows victorious and rounds out of sight again.

You writhe in excitement as you hear the sound of a zipper being pulled down behind you, a thronging need to be thoroughly fucked.

Your eyes meet Anthony’s, and he twists his mouth into a bemused pout as you cry out with the force Benedict ploughs into you with one forceful thrust. He’s just as sizeable as you recall Anthony being: split open in just the same way, your channel clinging to him.

Benedict curses and holds still. “Exquisite…” he groans, then his hands roughly grasp the cue looped into the crook of your arms, and he immediately withdraws and snaps back in. Your whole body rolling with the force of it, your hips slamming into the wood edge of the table.

“Fuck her so hard she can’t walk,” Anthony growls through gritted teeth, making you tilt your head up to see him roughly tugging on his cock now.

“It’ll be my pleasure,” Benedict grunts, spearing into you again, the smooth wood cue rolling over your skin as he uses it as leverage.

You cannot look away from the sight of Anthony’s cock, red and angry, leaking over his knuckles as he tugs himself almost violently. A vein in his neck pulsing in sync with his motions.

Benedict bears his weight onto you and changes angle, glancing that place deep inside that few are able to reach, but when they do, it has you babbling nonsense. Panting ragged, begging words you’d never admit to, if not strung out on a vicious tide of hormones

“What was that?” Benedict menaces, looming close to hear your hoarse, desperate words.

“Please make my pussy yours…” You repeat in a whisper, throwing your head back to look up at the underside of his string jaw, eyes rolling, tongue feeling thick in your mouth.

Benedict curses, and his hands grab the dip of your waist, clutching so strong you squeak, your forehead lolling back down onto the felt.

“I fucking will,” he growls, his chin pressing into a notch high on your spine. “Look at him while I destroy you…” he gruffs hotly into your skin. You do as commanded: tilting up to stare at Anthony as your body is slammed over and over, silently telegraphing that he now has to raise the bar next time he fucks you.

As if he picks up on your provocation, Anthony rapidly jumps to his feet, stalking up to you, his rigid cock bobbing out of his fly as he does, still otherwise fully clothed in shirt and trousers. He pulls up beside you, the hand that was wrapped around himself sliding into your hair and grasping, a touch rough.

“Release one of her hands,” Anthony barks. “One cock isn’t enough for this greedy slut…”

As with earlier in the car, that derogatory term - something you’d slap anyone for calling you usually - just rockets you higher in this context. Aglow with the idea you have both of them utterly feral for you now.

Benedict manhandles your arm that’s nearest his brother out from under the cue, and instantly Anthony grabs your wrist, guiding your hand to his cock, his other hand still holding your hair, your cheekbone pressed into the green felt.

“We will all come together, do you hear me?” Anthony instructs in a non-negotiable tone.

“Yes sir…” you demure, loving the feel of his heated, girth pulse in your palm as you say it.

“Lord,” he clips, “you can call him Sir…” he nods towards Benedict, not looking away from you for a second.

“Yes, Lord,” you correct, tongue sliding into your cheek and defiantly cocking an eyebrow at him.

“Fucking brat,” Anthony scolds, but it's breathy and commendatory; a little groan as you squeeze him, a bead of precum wetting your thumb as you swipe his head.

One of Benedict’s hands releases its vice grip on your waist and slaps your buttcheek so acutely you stutter an involuntary moan, the wind knocked out of your lungs temporarily.

“I want to tame this one in a hundred ways…” he grits out.

“And she’d love every single one, wouldn’t you?” Anthony prompts, his eyes wordlessly ordering you to respond.

“I’d like that, sir,” you enthuse, craning to look back at Benedict even with Anthony’s grip on your scalp.

“Fucking hell…” Benedict gusts, his cock rippling in response to your words, and you can tell he is getting close, his punishing pace wavering a touch as he closes his eyes and tilts to look up at the ceiling, needing to look away to last a little longer, his strong neck bulging as he swallows heavily.

“Come inside me,” you incite, needing him in your thrall. For him to paw at your skin, leave finger marks on your hips, handprints on your bum.

He tilts to look down at you, eyes ablaze. “I will. And you will take it all,” he warns, low and savage.

You nod, and your hand squeezes around Anthony’s cock, jerking him roughly towards his peak too.

“Please give it to me,” you entreat to both of them, burying your face into the table, pushing your hips as much as you can into Benedict’s pelvis, a febrile quake in your entire being, so strung out and close to ecstasy for the second time tonight.

He is ruthless, almost brutal now, his steely tip glancing at your hilt with every deep thrust he takes, your toes lifting off the ground. Anthony’s hands slide to your shoulder blades and press your breast into the table harshly, nipples abraded by the sequins of your dress. Your mind supplies images of how things could be: you naked for days as they make you orgasm so often you feel detached from reality. Countless hours of visceral bliss, one debauched moment bleeding into another.

“Whatever you are thinking about, we need to hear it,” Benedict stutters out. “Your pussy is a fucking vice of fire right now… fuck!!” He exclaims, and you sense he is at the point of no return.

His thrusts become erratic, and he unhooks the billiards cue from around your remaining arm, tossing it aside and grabbing your hand, lacing your fingers with his and hovering over your back, hot mouth open on your neck as he almost howls. He suddenly stills, then pulses deep within you. A warmth coating your walls that sends you over the edge, following him, your hand spasming around Anthony’s cock in time with the ripples of your pussy, floating away blissfully just as Anthony yells out, an arc of cum shooting across the table, landing in a glistening steak across the green felt.

For a few beats, there is nothing but heavy breaths; Benedict slumped over you. Anthony bent forward over the table, grasping the edge.

“Fucking hell…” he stumbles out, both you and Benedict puffing in agreement.

You whimper as Benedict slides out of you, a slick of juices down your legs, your folds puffy and tender from his thorough treatment. A delicious ache you know you will still carry tomorrow.

“I guess you’ll need this rebaized…” Benedict remarks drolly, nodding to the table, and you all share a giggle.

Tenderly, they both help you back up to standing, rearranging your dress and righting their own clothing, then pulling you into a sandwiched embrace. Soothing hands run over your form, one brother kissing your cheek, the other your shoulder. The room bathed in the soft, warm glow of the Christmas tree, the scent of the spruce pine needles and smokey whiskey competing with the smell of sex lingering around you.

“Thank you for our most wondrous gift,” Benedict plaudits sweetly.

“I can’t think of a better present that simultaneously orgasms,” you admit wryly, snuggling into them, enjoying the way their chests vibrate against yours as they both laugh.

Anthony cups your face, drawing your attention to him wholly. “You will stay, won’t you? For Christmas Day?” His tone is so hopeful it melts something behind your ribs.

“Yes,” you confirm quietly.

“I know you and I may play-act as if we are foes, but you are quite the most captivating, singular woman I have met.” His sincere tone is laden with respect and admiration. “And I do believe my brother now feels the same.”

Benedict turns you around so you face him in the joint hug, “Like you wouldn’t believe...” he murmurs fervently, his hazy eyes shining.

“So I hope you don’t mind having two Bridgertons devoted to your pleasure,” Anthony breathes, nuzzling your hair as you finally kiss Benedict for the first time—a sweet denouement to this thrilling evening.

What a Merry Christmas indeed.

masterlist • wips • taglist (follow this blog to be tagged)

Benedict and Anthony taglist pt 1 : @makaylan @longingintheuniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @queenofmean14 @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @elizah99 @fictionalmenloversblog @debheart @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @amanda08319 @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @ferns-fics @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @vane28282 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @kisskissshutmydoor @hanji-emo-blog @y0ur-favgerman @sya-skies

Lights divider by @/saradika [x]

267 notes · View notes

livwritessometimes · 6 months ago

Text

End With The Spring Fling

: Part 12 (Oscar's Version)

: The Spring Fling is finally here!

: Prev

: Series Masterlist

: Main Masterlist

: author's note: And with that Oscar’s Version is finally over! Can’t believe it was a 12 part series, feels much longer than that. Can’t wait for other versions to come 💕

…

It was finally the time everyone had been waiting for. It was time for the names to go live. There was a sense of nervousness in the air, several students looking towards each other, wondering who their match was going to be. The Head of the Department of Mass Communication made her way towards the stage with a mic in hand. "I'm sure you all are excited for the grand reveal?" she questioned as cheers erupted in the venue. "Before we get on with that, I would like to call someone to the stage. You see, without this person, you would not have this reveal tonight. So please put your hands together for Ms. Y/n L/n, the person who came up with this idea," the HoD said as she passed the mic to Y/n.

"Ahh, I was not expecting this at all," Y/n said as she let out a nervous laugh. "I don't even know where to begin. I am so glad for my friends, who had to deal with me during this; I know it wasn't easy, and I really appreciate you guys for being there for me," Y/n said while looking at Alex, Dylan, Daniel, and Pierre.

"The truth is that none of this would have been possible without a certain someone's help. You see, I had no idea how to get the form up and running, and that is when my dear friend Daniel told me about this guy who can help. Let's just say the ride from that hadn't been the easiest at first, I'll admit, but over time it had become the best part of this entire project," Y/n said, smiling at the memories of her and Oscar.

"But of course life doesn't always go your way, and I messed things up with him. So what I'm trying to say here is that, if you end up finding someone through this, I hope you hold onto that person. I hope you love them and cherish them the best you can. So enjoy your night, because the results are out," Y/n said as she got off the stage.

The entire hall was filled with excitement as people pulled out their phones to see who they got. Y/n made her way towards her group when she saw him standing in the middle of the dancefloor amongst the chaos.

"Oscar?" she said as she made her way towards him.

"Did you mean that?" he questioned.

"What?" she said.

"Did you mean what you just said up there?" Oscar asked again, with a sense of urgency in his voice.

"i-um" "Yes, I did, Oscar," Y/n finally said after overcoming the surprise of seeing him there.

"I'm sorry I left yesterday. I just did not know what to say to you at that moment. God had I known that you felt the same, why would I have don-," Y/n was cut off by Oscar grabbing her face and kissing her.

"God! Why do you always have to talk so much?" Oscar asked before he leaned in again.

Y/n could hear hooting in the distance, and as she pulled away from Oscar, she turned to find the source of this being their friends, watching everything that had just happened.

Clearing his throat, Oscar said, "They're never gonna let this go, are they?" "Oh yeah, be prepared," Y/n said, shaking her head, and the two joined the dancefloor.

"Fair warning, don't let Dylan intimidate you; he likes to give the dad talk to the guys I'm dating," Y/n said, cringing at the memory of said 'dad talks' that Dylan was so fond of.

"So we're dating then?" Oscar questioned, looking at Y/n, who looked a little flustered.

"I can leave if you'd like," Y/n said as she pulled away from him.

"Oh, hush you," Oscar said, pulling her even closer than before, slowly swaying the song that was playing in the background.

755 notes · View notes

charlotteking23 · 11 days ago

Text

The Lion's Lamb - Chapter 9 - MV1/33

Max Verstappen x reader

The Lion's Lamb Series: Aesthetics, Ch.1, Ch.2, Ch.3, Ch.4, Ch.5, Ch.6, Ch.7, Ch.8

Click

That's the only sound you heard before you were thrown off of Max's shoulder and gently placed on the ground. You fixed the dress you were wearing with a blush, knowing that the bottom had risen up your legs slightly.

You knew that Max might have been able to see the bottom of your butt while you were over his shoulder. If it was any one else, you would have been mad, but with him, you didn't seem to care.

Once you figured you had everything situated, you started to look around at your surroundings. The apartment itself was fairly large.

If you were to guess it was probably a 4 bedroom, 2 bath apartment. The floor plan was pretty open and had a set of windows that ran across the entire length of the wall.

Hidden in the windows were sliding glass doors that led to the balcony that overlooked the city of Monaco.

The inside was absolutely beautiful. The interior followed the modern design that many of the high end apartments had. In the living room there was a a dark gray L shaped couch. On the opposite side was a small love seat, matching the couch.

Both the couch and love seat had light gray throw pillows to complete the look. In the middle was a light brown coffee table with a small pile of untouched books.

The walls had a simple framed art, depicted black and white prints of cars. They weren't the types of car photos you would see on your brother's bedroom walls growing up.

These ones were beautifully done and you couldn't help but admire them. As you continued to walk around, you noticed that any photos he had were of cars, specifically racing ones, yet nothing personal.

You realized that something wasn't exactly right. Max had a place that any person would have dreamed to live in but he was missing something. The house might have been beautiful but it was not a home.

It looked like someone came in here and staged the house, like it was being ready to be put on the market. Everything looked untouched. It didn't feel homey.

"Do you race?" You asked, after going back to one of the framed black and white race cars, knowing it was the only aspect of the house that you felt belonged to Max.

Max's heart started to race at your question. He knew this was his way out of all his lying. He could tell you the truth right now and explain his reason with little to no consequences.

"No," he lied, "I work with them every once and awhile, but I also enjoy the sport."

He knew he shouldn't have told you a lie, that you deserved to know who he really was, but he didn't want this to end. If you knew the truth, their little bubble would be blown and his sweet little lamb would see the side of him he wishes to keep hidden.

You saw a bit of Mad Max earlier in the night but you were more scared of the man than him at that moment.

You hummed in response. You knew nothing about racing. It wasn't the most popular sport in the U.S., contrary to popular belief. To you, Max working on race cars made sense. While you knew little to nothing about the sport, you did know it drew in quite a bit of money If he worked with racing, then his wealth made sense.

Max didn't know what to do with himself. He had his girl in his house. He had never felt more anxious about having a girl in his home before.

"Um," You said, breaking the awkward silence that surrounded them, "when are you going to take me home?"

All the anxiety that the Dutchman felt, dissipated, "tomorrow."

"Max, I can't stay the night here!"

"You can and you will," Max stated, stepping closer to the girl slowly, "I'm not letting you go back to that house tonight."

With a sigh, you knew you wouldn't be able to win this battle.You saw how angry and protective he was over you, and it scared you slightly with how much you enjoyed it.

"I have a spare bedroom here you can stay in for the night," he continued, "I'll take you home tomorrow, but tonight... You're mine."

Your heart started racing at his words. You couldn't help but bite your lip at the feeling he caused within you.

Max stepped close to her when he saw her bite her lip, quickly bringing his hand up to pull in out from between her teeth.

"The only person allowed to bite these are me," his voiced deepened and his eyes filled with lust.

He knew he was being too forward, but he couldn't help it. She was his little lamb and it was about time she realized it.

In an instant, he grabbed the back of her neck and brought his head down towards her. His lips aggressively finding a home in her. She was shocked at first but immediately responded.

This kiss was nothing like the one they previously shared. This one was rough, aggressive, and Stella loved every minute of it. He was claiming her as his and she happily accepted it.

Max couldn't stop. He needed more.

He quickly pushed her up against the nearest wall, never breaking the kiss. He grabbed her hands and pinned them to wall behind her. Instinctively, she pushed her hips into his, causing her to moan at the friction, eliciting a groan from the man she was currently grinding on.

This broke Max from his lust filled haze and pulled away from the kiss, knowing she wasn't fully ready for the next step. He continued to kiss her cheek, moving slowly down to her neck.

"You have no idea what you do to me," he groaned out roughly will pushing his hips against hers.

A blush immediately erupted on her face. She had never felt this way about a person before and was almost ashamed on how she acted.

Almost.

Max released her hand and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead before taking a step back.

"Come on, let me show you where you'll sleep and grab you some clothes."

210 notes · View notes

latin5mamii · 7 months ago

Text

Backstage -Jude Bellingham

|WARNINGS: cute and fluff |AUTHOR'S NOTE:inspired by remmysthings request (Jude Bellingham xSinger reader) |SUMMARY:You couldn't imagine that the world's best footballer had a little crush on you..

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”Jude says to his friends while watching you perform, almost

enchanted by your skill and beauty. You were called to perform in a stadium, where all the celebrities would be there to watch you.

"She's also very good, I mean look at her-"

"Jude, please stop.Just confess to her already" says his friend, Erling, poor guy, he just wanted to hear some good music but unfortunately he happened to be sitting next to Jude.

"How about next time you make a sign that says 'Y/N I love you'?" Trent says jokingly, lightly slapping Jude's cheek.

Before Jude could reply, the crowd erupted into applause as your performance came to an end. With a final bow and a gracious smile, you left the stage to the thunderous applause of thousands.

“We have to go to the fucking backstage and you have to congratulate, and maybe, even exchange numbers”Trent’s idea was approved by Erling too,so he took Jude by the hand, just like a baby, and they drag him to the backstage to talk to you.

With every step that brought them closer to backstage, Jude almost wanted to go back.

"Maybe it's not a good idea, I don't even know what to say to her"

"Flirt with her a little, be a gentleman and see that it's done. Have you ever been rejected?"

"No, is this even a question?"

"So what are you worried about?"

"Maybe he has traumas," Erling says, laughing along with Trent.

But now it was too late to go back out, there you were, talking to the festival organizer, taking compliments and saying goodbye.

As soon as you finish talking to her you lock eyes with Jude and smile at him, you literally see him being pushed towards you by his friends and he holds out his hand for you to shake it.

Jude took a deep breath and approached you tentatively. When you turned and caught his eye, your smile widened, and Jude felt a surge of determination.

"Hi," Jude greeted, his voice slightly hoarse from nerves but filled with sincerity. "I just wanted to say... that was an incredible performance. Really, really amazing."

You looked pleasantly surprised by his approach, a blush creeping onto your cheeks at his compliment. "Thank you so much," you replied warmly. "I'm glad you enjoyed it."

"I'm Jude," he introduced himself, extending his hand towards you.

"I'm Y/N," you said with a smile, shaking his hand gently. "It's nice to meet you, Jude."

Jude grinned, feeling a rush of adrenaline as he stood there talking to you. His nervousness melted away as he engaged in light-hearted banter, sharing goofy stories and laughing together about festival mishaps.

"So, Y/N," Jude began with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, "do you always make such amazing music, or are we just lucky tonight?"

You couldn't help but laugh at his playful charm. "I guess you're just lucky tonight," you teased, enjoying the playful banter.

As the conversation continued, Jude found himself genuinely enjoying your company. He felt at ease, making silly jokes and sharing lighthearted moments with you. Trent and Erling watched from a distance, grinning proudly at their friend's newfound confidence.

"Well, Y/N, I don't want to keep you from celebrating," Jude eventually said with a mock-serious expression. "But maybe we could continue this conversation over... I don't know, a dance-off?"

You laughed, shaking your head in amusement. "As tempting as that sounds, I think I'll pass on the dance-off for now," you replied with a playful wink.

"Fair enough," Jude conceded with a grin. "But how about we exchange numbers instead? You know, for... future dance-offs."

You nodded, unable to suppress a smile at his infectious energy. "Sure, I'd like that," you agreed, exchanging numbers with Jude amidst playful banter.

He introduced you to his friends and then you said goodbye. Watching them going out you couldn’t help but smile,I mean, he’s hot, and you know it.

“Good job,mate!But don’t forget the sign next time,alright?”

“Shut up you jealous little shit”

#cute #fanfic #x reader #x you fluff #x female reader #x female y/n #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham #singer reader #football

463 notes · View notes

f1cflcfic · 17 days ago

Text

The Prophecy (SMAU ft. Lando Norris) Part I

pairing: lando norris x singer!reader (y/n)

summary: what happens after the break-up that noone saw coming? as Y/N L/N gears up to release her next album, each song reveals a little bit of the past, present and future of her relationship with Lando Norris. Inspired by a curated playlist built around "The Prophecy". note: this is RPF and is obviously in no way, shape, or form reflective of real persons. Also, this story is angsty with a happy ending - it does not contain any smut or suggestive themes. [A/N: This is my first SMAU and hooooooly shit did I totally underestimate how much work it is, and how things work within Tumblr to make it look alright. If you have any tips, let me know lol. I had to split it up in pieces, but i've got all the content written out already, so will be updated soon with the next part!]

♥･*:.｡｡.:*･ﾟ♡･*:.｡｡.:*･ﾟ♥

December, 2025

February, 2026

[Excerpt from red carpet interview at the Grammy's with Y/N]

How are you feeling tonight? You're up for 3 awards, one of them Album of the Year for All I Ever Needed - that's huge!

"It's so overwhelming, to be honest."

Even when you've gone through this experience before? This is your fourth time attending, second time as nominee.

"Yeah, maybe even more so! It's a great chance to hang out with friends and meet new people, but it's also really prestigious still. Being nominated - I try to act like it doesn't matter, because awards always involve politics too - but at the end of the day, you do want it."

And who're you most looking forward to seeing tonight?

"Honestly? I came alone tonight, so I can't wait to find Sabrina [Carpenter] and Jade. I'm gonna need my girls."

Your friend Miley is also up for an award tonight in the same category, what's that like?

"Ha, if the Grammy's do the right thing tonight she'll win it - I know I voted for her!"

You'll also be performing one of your songs - Ruin My Life, can you tell us a bit about what to expect?

"I really wanted this to be visually interesting, but it took me a while to get the right concept for it. I think it's because to me this album and song already feel sort of far removed, and lived in? I'm in a different phase of my life right now, so I had to find a new way to still connet to it. I was really grateful to work with a great art director to bring a different version to the stage."

March, 2026

July, 2026

[SkyNews excerpt]

Lando Norris wins Silverstone GP, dedicates his 20th podium win to his family

The man of the hour is none other than Lando Norris, who’s just gone on to claim his 20th victory at his home race. You’re reading that right, his home race! While he still owns his apartment in Monaco, Norris revealed today that he’s been living back in England for the past few months. “I just wasn’t in the right headspace anymore and wanted to live closer to my family. Especially now that my brother’s kids are growing up, I just like knowing I could drive over – rather than having to fly across countries.”

Speaking on the importance of his family being present, Norris shared that it means everything to him. “In this sport you need to have skill, talent, trust and investment from your team, but also you need that stable sense of safety from the people you love. If your mindset isn’t there, you can’t be competitive.”

Norris has been vocal about mental health in the past, and has advocated for more access to mental healthcare facilities and professionals across motorsport.

“Especially in tougher years where there’s just a lot of noise and turmoil, it’s nice to have a professional coach you to mental fitness as well.”

It was the only notable reference to Norris’ private life, which ended on a low note last year after splitting from long-time girlfriend y/n l/n. The two were originally thought to have had an amicable split, but recent reports hint at a different story, with Norris unfollowing his ex and her friends unfollowing him in return.

August, 2026

September, 2026

♥･*:.｡｡.:*･ﾟ♡･*:.｡｡.:*･ﾟ♥

Part II can be read here! likes, comments, reblogs are always very much appreciated ♥

#lando norris #lando norris smau #lando norris x reader #formula one x reader #formula one fanfiction #rpf x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x you

288 notes · View notes

mypoisonedvine · 1 year ago

Text

𝓅𝓁𝒶𝓎𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 | raymond leon x reader

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 | since you've managed to outsmart (or, more accurately, seduce) your last four bodyguards, your wealthy father decides it's time to take a new approach: hire a timekeeper to watch you. after all, a man who dedicates his life to the law can withstand the wiles of a spoiled, lonely girl... right?

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 | 4.7k

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 | dubcon smut (rough sex, daddy kink, choking, slapping, creampie, breeding kink, glove kink, degradation), age gap (raymond is ????, reader is early 20s), slight dd/lg undertones, reader is a bit dark and manipulative hehe

You were rolling your stockings up your legs, one of the final stages in dressing for the party tonight, when your bedroom door opened. “Hey, Ray,” you greeted with a purr as he stepped inside.

“Officer Leon,” he corrected you.

“Right,” you smiled, tilting your head. “I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to be disrespectful.”

He scoffed, looking away, and you bit your lip— he was getting frustrated, in more than one sense of the word, and you were going to get what you wanted (like always). Boys are simply too easy.

This whole cat-and-mouse thing was starting to drive you a little crazy— none of the other bodyguards had taken this long to crack. But really, the anticipation just added to the fun.

You stood up and turned your back to him, hoping he was eyeing the V-shaped portion of your back he could see with your gown still open.

“Will you help me zip up my dress?” you asked sweetly, making sure your hair was out of the way and looking back over your shoulder at him sweetly. He sighed but stepped closer to you, but tugging on the zipper only lifted the bottom of your dress a bit— so he had to put his other hand on your hip to hold it in place as he pulled the zipper up, and you were thankful he couldn’t see your eyes flutter shut at the feeling. His hands were so strong, you could feel it even through the gloves— and those fucking gloves, shiny black leather, he knew damn well what he was doing to you. He just didn't seem to care.

"There," he said when he'd tugged it up to the top, stepping back, and you turned around to face him. The dress was more elegant than you usually went for: you traded in your lace and bows in pastel shades for a dark purple silk that fell to the floor.

"What do you think?" you asked, biting your lip. "Daddy picked it out for me."

"He has expensive taste," Raymond noticed, though he conspicuously didn't comment on your appearance. He was very uptight, especially about professionalism. You sort of got the feeling that if you could just pull one of his strings hard enough, he'd totally unravel: which is why you kept trying.

As he tried not to look at you, you gave him a slow look up and down. "Is that what you're wearing tonight?" you asked incredulously, pointing to his high-neck black sweater and long leather trench.

"I'm working tonight, so yes," he answered.

Everyone thought Raymond stuck out like a sore thumb in your room— his angular, dark form against the soft baby pinks and white laces around your bed, a hardened cop amongst the porcelain baby dolls and fluffy stuffed animals and gold-edged tea sets: but you thought he fit right in, standing there amongst all your playthings.

The party was a bit dull— you were having more fun toying with your bodyguard than anything else. “Try this,” you’d insist as you held up an hors d'oeuvre to feed him; he had to give in, he had to do whatever you said in front of all these people, but he glared at you as he leaned forward and took a bite out of the mini-tart.

You bragged to your father’s guests about your new bodyguard— or toy, as you called him more often. “Daddy bought him for me,” you’d say, “and he has to do whatever I want. Show them your gun, Mr. Leon!”

He only looked at you sternly again, and you rolled your eyes.

“He’s sort of grouchy,” you explained to the amused dinner attendees. He didn’t react much, still standing there with his gloved hands held in front of him, but you saw a little tightness in his jaw.

Best of all, you flirted with as many suitors as you could get away with in a night, just to bother him. The tricky thing about a world without aging is men who’ve been around quite some time were still just as eligible for your hand as men closer to your age— you wondered if it would bother him more knowing that one of your father’s wealthy friends who had been alive at least 80 years was doting on you. Didn’t matter either way: you let them all stand a bit too close, put their hand on your lower back— you laughed too hard at their shitty jokes. All to make Ray jealous, but when you glanced over your shoulder at him, you could never catch a reaction.

After the guests had left and the staff had begun cleaning, you went back to your room to change. You’d coyly asked Raymond if he would watch over you during that, too, but he didn’t answer because he knew you were joking. It’s not like you were ever really serious… but you did want him. Not just for fun, and not just to prove to your father that there was no use hiring these bodyguards— he was fucking sexy, obviously. Definitely your favorite so far, and exactly your type… for how much he thought you were trying to tease and tempt him, he was the one driving you a little crazy.

Still, you kept your cool as best you could; you needed to keep control over him, and thankfully with him working for you, that was pretty easy to exert. (Well, technically he worked for your father, but it was close enough.)

“Oh, Mister Officer,” you called out to him through the door as you sat on your bed, hearing him step closer.

“Yes?” he asked, voice slightly muffled.

“I just need your help with something,” you explained, but he still hesitated.

“Are you decent?”

Damn, he wasn’t that gullible anymore. “Enough,” you replied, and he sighed before opening your bedroom door.

You were in your bra and panties now— but with your heels and stockings still on, of course; he lost track of his step for a second when he saw you, then frowned at you. “That’s not what I would consider decent,” he said.

“Well, I need your help and I wasn’t going to put on a turtleneck just for that,” you replied. “You’ve seen me in my bikini by the pool, anyways…”

And you’d made him apply sunscreen on your back as well; you smirked to yourself at the memory. “What do you need my help with?” he reminded you of the original topic.

“Well, these shoes are too small for me now,” you said, “I didn’t realize how much I’d grown since I wore them last…”

You hoped he’d find that a little intriguing, as someone who himself hadn’t grown in… you didn’t even know how long. He obviously never talked about it— for all you knew he could have been alive a hundred years, though he certainly didn’t act like it.

You lifted a stiletto-clad foot forward towards him. “Now they’re stuck. Will you help me take them off?”

He sighed that trademark, frustrated sigh of his, and you fought off a smile. “You can’t do that yourself?”

You shook your head. “I’m not strong enough,” you explained with a shrug.

Clearly not buying it but in no position to accuse you of lying, he knelt down in front of you. Taking the shoe in his hand, he looked at you with annoyance in his eyes as it slipped off easily.

“You’re so strong,” you cooed, wiggling your toes inside the pantyhose, then putting your foot down to hold out the other in front of him. “Now the other one,” you demanded.

He took the shoe off of you, tossing it aside, and you let your foot brush against his thigh as you lowered it down— just long enough to make it not quite believable as an accident.

“Now my stockings,” you continued, and he got up and started to walk away.

“You’ll have to do the rest on your own,” he insisted.

“But who’s gonna help me undress?” you pouted, and he stopped walking halfway to the door, dropping his shoulders a bit.

“I don’t know, how about you ask one of those boys that was sniffing around you all night?” he suggested, and you smiled proudly. Oh, you noticed that?

“I can’t,” you sighed, “you know Daddy doesn’t let me have any boys in my room— except you.”

“Yes,” he agreed, “because I’m the one who keeps the boys out of your room.”

“It’s no fair,” you whined. “It’s so boring up here by myself…”

“Please,” he groaned, finally turning around, “with all these things you have? You shouldn’t have any trouble being entertained.”

“You’re right,” you agreed, “I shouldn’t— but I do. There’s only one thing I really wanna do right now…”

You started to slowly and delicately run your fingers up your legs, spreading them a bit.

“But I don’t wanna have to do it alone…” you continued, blinking up at him as you saw his nostril twitch— could this finally be the moment you caught him?

In an instant, he stormed towards you and grabbed you by the neck. “So fucking spoiled,” he growled, his black leather gloves crinkling softly as you whimpered and held his wrist. “You think I don’t know what you’re doing? You think your father didn’t tell me what happened to the last four bodyguards?”

“I— I didn’t fuck them all,” you defended, voice a little thin from the pressure on your throat, “the third quit on his own—”

“Because he knew what would happen if he gave in to you,” Raymond sneered. “And so do I. You think I’ll give up on a job like this that easily?”

That was one thing that made Ray different than the others before— they were all professional bodyguards, used to working for the elite class. Most of them probably already had plenty of time, or could at least keep getting jobs of this caliber to earn a similar keep. But Timekeepers weren’t especially well compensated, paid daily but only paid just enough to keep going until the next per diem. He’d probably never had more than a couple days on his clock, and now he was earning a month a week just to babysit you. That was why your father hired him for this, you finally realized: he’d said before that he simply hoped a lawman would have a little more integrity and not give in to temptation with you, but it was far more than just that.

Raymond let go of your neck and tossed you back onto the bed, but just when you hoped he’d climb on top of you and pin you down, he scoffed and turned away. “You’re too young, anyways,” he said as he crossed his arms.

“Am not,” you denied.

“Your clock hasn’t even started yet,” he noticed.

“I’ve only got a few more years left,” you frowned, “but I’m still an adult.”

“Then fucking act like one,” he suggested sharply, and left the room with slam of your door.

You sighed, once again left frustrated with another unsuccessful attempt to get him into bed. But, you smiled, too; because you knew this was a step in the right direction.

Your father tried not to travel much, since it was one of the few things that exposed him to the risk of death. Wouldn't it be absurdly ironic, dying in a plane crash after living for hundreds of years and with nearly a millennium left on his clock?

Still, he didn't get all these years by sitting around in his house, he was a busy professional. And his work sometimes required him to leave for as long as a few weeks.

He had you come and see him off at the hangar, Officer Leon not far behind as you kissed your father on the cheek and bid him safe travels.

You loved when he left, it gave you a lot more freedom. But Raymond didn't know that, he just knew you were a billionaire's youngest daughter left alone in a massive mansion, and you'd already had planned for weeks how you could use that to your advantage.

You knew he was outside your door, you could see the shadow of his boots through the crack between the wood and the plush rug. Fighting off a little smile, you whimpered softly— but not too soft, he needed to hear it. The first one didn't seem to work, so you dropped your head and did it again.

He swung open the door a second later, and though he seemed relieved to find you alone and not being kidnapped or something, he still had to ask: "Are you alright?"

You sniffled and wiped at your eye, acting like you were trying to hide your tears as if it all wasn’t a performance in the first place. “Daddy’s gone away,” you pouted, “and left me all by myself… m’so lonely, Mr. Leon.”

“Officer,” he corrected, but his voice faltered when you looked up at him with big, needy eyes.

“I don’t wanna be all alone,” you whimpered, “I need somebody to take care of me… protect me…”

You rubbed your thighs together as you sat on the bed, toying with the lacy hem of your nightgown.

“Somebody big and strong,” you continued as he crossed his arms, “like you.”

His stare was icier than ever, yet those eyes still could’ve melted you if you let them.

“Will you be my new daddy while he’s gone?” you asked sweetly, biting your lip, and he tensed his jaw as he looked away.

“What do you get out of toying with me?” he asked sharply.

“Fucked, hopefully,” you smiled.

“You know, I’ve known a lot of women,” he informed you; you had no idea where he was going with this, but you liked how it started. “Rich, poor— prostitutes, politicians— young, or just young-looking. But I don’t think I’ve ever met such a brainless, insatiable little whore as you.”

You stood up from the bed, stepping closer to him carefully. “Really?” you smiled, taking it as a compliment, and that only angered him further.

“What is it that makes you think you can get whatever you want?” he wondered, his blue eyes like daggers as he glared at you.

“Experience,” you shrugged, reaching up to trace a finger over his lapel, but he batted it away harshly. “Ooh,” you breathed, “you’re a mean daddy, hm? The type that believes in lots of discipline?”

He didn’t respond, even when you stepped so close that your body was nearly touching his.

“I can be a good girl,” you promised sweetly, “for you.”

“I don’t believe that for a second,” he snapped.

“Let me prove it, daddy,” you purred, “just give me a chance…”

You leaned in, wondering if he’d let you kiss him— he hadn’t backed away, but he hadn’t relaxed out of his bodyguard posture, either.

“Just make me yours,” you pleaded under your breath, lips nearly brushing against his.

Before you even realized he’d given in, he slammed you back against the wall with a hand around your neck, the other instantly grabbing you between the legs, and you mewled joyfully. “Fuck,” he snarled, like he was just as frustrated with himself as with you; his gloved hand roughly navigated up under your nightgown and into your panties.

Two leather-covered fingers slid inside you, and you arched your back up off the wall.

“Needy whore,” he grunted as he shoved his fingers deeper into you, making you whimper as your knees almost buckled. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

“Yes, daddy,” you moaned happily, though he slapped you across the face hard with his other hand right after you said it, and you yelped as you clutched your cheek.

“I’m not your fucking daddy,” he spat at you. “Such a goddamn brat— if I was your daddy, you’d have some fucking manners.”

“Teach me,” you begged, “fuck, please— I need to learn. Teach me right now.”

He let go of you, and pulled his fingers out of you, and stepped back slightly as he shed the gloves and his long coat. “Get on your fucking knees,” he growled, watching you slide along the wall onto the floor.

You didn’t need to be told what to do after that, you simply smiled as you reached up to rub the bulge in his pants. Unbuckling his belt for him, you had to catch your breath when you realized how big he was.

He smirked when you whimpered slightly while taking it out, stroking him as he got harder in your grip. “More than you bargained for?” he wondered smugly.

“Nothing a brainless, insatiable little whore can’t handle,” you promised just before leaning forward and taking him into your mouth. He gasped a little before humming in satisfaction, and you suckled as you swirled your tongue around his head, fitting what you could in your mouth and trying to coat the skin with your spit.

His hand suddenly held onto your hair when you started to bob your head, and he groaned when you choked slightly on the tip of him. “Fuck,” he whispered, “yeah— like that, baby…”

You moaned around him, not just for show but a reaction to the satisfying weight of him on your tongue— and the slightly salty taste of leaking precum. Your fingers brushed gently over his balls as you blinked up at him: you were pulling out all the stops, you wanted him to lose his mind over you even more than he already had.

He pushed your hair back, tilting your head further to meet your gaze. You thought he might speak when he opened his mouth, but you gagged on him again and he just sighed.

Your hand wrapped around the rest of his length that you couldn't reach with your lips, stroking him in time with the way you bobbed your head; and your other hand couldn't help but reach down between your bent legs, pressing against your core— bare, as you'd already thought ahead and forgone panties— and making you hum at the smallest hint of friction.

You were just starting to set a rhythm with it, the bobbing of your head and the stroking of your hand and the way you swirled your tongue… but of course he had to throw you off and shove your head down, making you choke again unexpectedly, as he groaned at the feeling. “S’what you wanted,” he reminded you, starting to roughly fuck your mouth. “What you fucking wanted, right, little whore?”

You could only barely nod with him holding your head, and your clit throbbed just from the way he looked down at you with his teeth bared.

“Fuck, just need a cock to choke on,” he growled. “Only way to shut you up, huh?”

He gave your throat a few more aggressive thrusts before pulling back, and you coughed and wiped your chin as you looked up at him. “It’s not all I wanted,” you reminded him when you caught your breath, and he smiled at you in a condescending sort of way.

“Right,” he recalled, tilting his head, “you wanted to be fucked. Poor thing.”

“Please, daddy?” you batted your eyelashes up at him, and he just laughed thinly.

“Nothing’s stopping you, princess,” he replied, holding his hands out, as if to suggest you come and take it. You couldn’t resist an offer like that.

Standing up and grinning at him, you pushed him back by the shoulders and down onto the bed, straddling his lap.

He smirked up at you; “Really need it that bad, huh?” he mocked as you pulled your nightgown up over your head and tossed it aside quickly.

“Uh huh,” you agreed with a nod, “need you so bad— you’ll let me ride your big cock, right, daddy? Please?”

But you were already lining him up to your entrance and sinking down, and you both groaned loudly as he filled you. “God, it’s so wet,” he hissed, watching you gasp as you lowered yourself further. “You get that wet just from sucking cock? Fuckin’ slut.”

Your eyes rolled back as the tip of his cock pressed further than you thought possible. “Fuck, daddy,” you moaned, “you’re so deep…”

“Yeah,” he panted in agreement, “can’t believe that little pussy’s taking all of me…”

You started to grind on him right away, holding onto his shoulders as you rocked your hips desperately. “Oh my god, oh my god,” you chanted, “it’s s-so good, it feels so good—”

He bit his lip as he watched you, and you loved how it felt to have those steely eyes looking up and down your body as you moved.

You'd been sort of on edge the whole time, sucking him off and all— not to mention that the foreplay with you and Raymond had started, in your mind, months ago when he was first hired. The satisfaction of finally having him exactly where you wanted him was nearly as good as the physical sensation… but it did feel incredible, the curve of his cock rubbing up against your spot with so much pressure that you shuddered all over.

His hands ran over your body, the strength of them more than apparent even when he was touching you somewhat delicately, and you moaned as his rough fingers punched your nipples.

You shifted from grinding down on him to properly bouncing up and down, arching your back to get the perfect angle as you both groaned. "Fucking tight," he mumbled his praise.

You held on tighter to his shirt, really wishing you could see him without it, but there was something hot about him still being in his uniform… especially when you were totally naked. It probably made him think he had more power over you, which was exactly what you wanted him to think.

Moving faster, you felt the pressure building inside you already, pulsing and swelling as you let your head drop forward to look down at him looking jus perfect underneath you.

He grabbed you by the neck, only to be unexpectedly sweet and pull you down into a kiss— but it was still a hungry, dominating kiss, one that made you whine and tense up inside as he tasted all over your tongue and mouth. And he didn’t let go of your neck, either, in fact he tightened his grip just enough to make you choke out a raspy moan against his lips, which you felt smirk a moment later.

“So good, daddy,” you mumbled into the last moments of the kiss. His hands moved down to your body, following your movements, and you pulled back enough to look at his face closely. “You’re so fucking good, daddy,” you praised again.

He groaned and held your waist tighter, making you hum and smile. "Little slut," he scolded through his teeth as you moved faster. “Show daddy how you make yourself come.”

You beamed as he really accepted the title for the first time. Sitting up higher and bouncing faster, you moaned loudly as you chased your high: shocks of sensation hit inside you, faster and faster the longer you continued.

You grabbed his hands off your hips and pinned them down beside his head, riding him harder while he smirked up at you. "So desperate," he cooed— but you could hear in his voice that he was close, too.

Whimpering at the feeling, you felt your walls bearing down on him as it nearly hit you— it was sort of difficult to come like this, since you could only move so fast, but the way it was drawn out just made you sure it would build up even stronger and hit you harder.

“Fuck, get off,” he warned, “gonna come.”

You grinned, biting your lip, and kept grinding your hips.

“Get up,” he demanded, but you just tightened your grip on his wrists. “Fuck, are you—?”

“Shh, m’close,” you scolded, feeling him try to struggle under you— but he was flexing inside you, too, and you knew he couldn’t hold back forever. He was obviously more than strong enough to fight you off if he really wanted, but it wasn’t about your body overpowering his— it was about you forcing him to give in to his instincts… to temptation.

“I swear to fucking god,” he groaned through his teeth, “if you don’t fucking get off me right now—”

“I’m coming, daddy!” you announced suddenly as you bounced on him even more fervently. “Oh my god, daddy, m’coming on your big cock! Yes!”

It felt great, don’t get me wrong, but you were definitely playing it up and giving him a real show as you tossed your head back, screamed out his name, dug your nails into his wrists— you wanted him to be totally helpless to you for just that moment. “Fuck!” he groaned, and you laughed excitedly as his cock pulsed inside you, heat flooding between your legs and his head falling back onto the mattress with the most gorgeous fucked-out look on his face.

“Oh fuck, come in me, daddy,” you demanded, rocking your hips and squeezing him tight for every drop, “wanna be so fucking full—”

He groaned through his teeth as it all started to die down a bit, scrunching his face up for a second before relaxing under you again; you felt his cock pump just a few more times, weaker than before, and you hummed proudly.

“God— oh my god—” he panted out, opening his eyes wide as he started to catch his breath, looking at you like you were crazy. You just laughed and bit your lip as you finally stopped moving. “What the fuck did you just do?” he snapped, but he still whimpered a bit when you deliberately clenched your walls around him.

“Sorry,” you shrugged, “I just really needed some come inside me— been really in the mood to get bred lately—”

You giggled as he grabbed you and threw you down onto the bed, turning you both over as he held your arms tight and pulled out— he blinked quickly, his lips slack and still a little stained from your pink gloss, as he watched his come leak out of your pussy. “Fuck,” he snarled, clearly trying to use his anger and panic to hide how much it turned him on. “Are you fucking kidding me? Do you realize what fucking happens if you get—?”

“Pregnant?” you finished for him, licking your lips excitedly. “Doesn’t it sound so hot though? You knocking me up, getting me all nice and full with your baby, ‘cause I’m so young and fertile— and then you can be a real daddy—”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he spat, sitting back at little on the bed and running his hands over his face in dismay. “You’re— oh god— I can’t believe this is happening—”

“Calm down, grumpypants,” you scolded with a smile as you sat up and looked at him closer. “I’m on the pill, haven’t missed one in years.”

Ray’s terrified expression fell into relief and frustration simultaneously. “Fucking— you could’ve told me that before,” he frowned, dropping his hands to his sides.

“But then I would’ve missed out on your little meltdown,” you laughed proudly. “You looked cute like that, panicking and thinking you really got me pregnant.”

He watched you get up out of the bed and snag your silk robe from off of a hook on the wall, slipping it on as you walked to the bathroom. You looked over your shoulder at him as you turned the door’s golden handle, smirking when you saw the dumbfounded look on his face.

“I think I could use a bath,” you explained, “care to join me, big boy?”

The look on his face was that sort of incredulous denial— like he couldn’t believe that you’d ask him that, expecting him to ever want to be near you again after pulling that stunt. “Are you serious?!” he choked.

“Of course,” you laughed, “I’m not in a joking mood anymore. Are you coming or not?”

He laughed in bewilderment and looked around for a moment, before sighing in relent. “Yeah, I am,” he admitted, sliding off the bed to come join you. You smirked to yourself; these boys are simply too easy.

#raymond leon x reader #raymond leon smut #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader

3K notes · View notes

harmonicakai · 9 months ago

Text

Powerslide

Pairing: Yeonjun x Reader

Summary: Usually, your best friend’s player roommate is the most annoying person on earth, but after your date ditches you, he’s more than willing to step in as a replacement.

Tropes: enemies to whatever this is, frat boy!yeonjun, bff!taehyun, college AU, soft dom!reader, sub!yeonjun, kinda exhibitionism & dacryphilia

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: smut (mdni!!!!!!!!!!), mentions of alcohol

A/N: My friend really wanted a Yeonjun fic to happen and I suddenly felt like writing this. I am NOT a smut writer, so this might not be very good, but I tried <3

“Damn baby, I'm a train wreck, too I lose my mind when it comes to you I take time with the ones I choose And I don't want to smile if it ain't from you” —Boyfriend, Ariana Grande & Social House

The guy you’ve been seeing has pissed you off for the last time. As soon as you got a text asking to reschedule tonight’s date, while you were already standing outside of the restaurant he was supposed to meet you at, it was over.

You reply for him to go fuck himself and trudge back to campus to complain to your best friend, Taehyun.

Despite the two of you becoming almost inseparable after being paired up in organic chemistry together, it’s clear to both of you that it’s just a platonic thing. If you had to pick which one of his friends you were most into, it’d be his roommate, Yeonjun.

Except he pisses you off more than the guys you actually go out with. You can’t recall a time where you’ve ever talked to him sober or he hasn’t shamelessly flirted with you in front of whoever else was involved in the conversation.

You know he sees girls as pawns and not people, and so you don’t even bother thinking about the two of you together. Until he answers the door instead of Taehyun, fresh from the shower, water still dripping from his hair onto the towel barely clinging to his waist.

“Where’s Taehyun?” you ask. Your line of sight naturally falls on his bare chest, but you do your best to look up at his face. He’s smirking at you.

“He’s got a soccer game,” Yeonjun says, stepping aside to let you into the common room. “Should be over soon if you want to wait for him.”

You walk past him, plopping yourself onto their small couch. Yeonjun’s eyes don’t leave you, taking in your full date night outfit and the way it hugs you perfectly.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks. You can swear you can hear him about to burst out into laughter as he watches you go through the five stages of grief. “You had a date tonight, didn’t you?”

“How do you know that?” you sit up, finally locking eyes with him. By now, he’s got a full fledged grin on his face.

“Taehyun told me,” he shrugs, his towel becoming looser with every movement. “Listen, I was just being nice and asking. If you want to ice me out like you always do, go ahead.”

His honesty makes your face heat up in anger. Yes, you’ve never been very nice to him, but for good reason. He’s just another fuckboy in a frat, and you’ve dealt with enough of those in your first years of college to know better.

“I can be nice,” you scoff, turning to look out the window. It’s so dark that all you can see are the streetlamps in the distance.

“Then by all means, show me,” he says, his voice shifting from playful to something more serious. “I’d really like to see how nice you can be.”

There’s something about the way he’s talking to you that feels good. Wrong, but good.

“Fine,” you relent, looking back to see he’s gotten much closer to you than before. “But you need to go get dressed.”

“Am I distracting?” he smiles, tilting his head at you. You roll your eyes.

“More like nauseating,” you lie. He is distracting, just like usual. The only thing that really keeps you from giving him a chance is how annoying he is, but for some reason, you’re happy to entertain his advances tonight.

“I’ll be right back,” he says before walking into his bedroom. When he comes back, he’s got a red hoodie and ripped jeans thrown on, his hair still damp and messy. “Better?”

“Much better,” you approve. He nods before sitting down next to you on the couch, close enough so that his hand can graze your knee without it being obvious that he’s totally doing it on purpose. “Do you really want to hear about my love life?”

“Hmm, what else would we talk about?” he hums, his gaze locked on your glossy red lips. You can feel your face heat up, prompting you to scoot further away from him.

“We could talk about yours instead. Although, from what Taehyun tells me, I’m not sure you’re even capable of love.”

“Ouch. I could be, you know? For the right girl.”

“And who’s the right girl?”

“You.” You want to laugh at how ridiculous this all is, but Yeonjun’s breath is hot against your neck, and he leans in to place a single kiss against your sensitive skin. “I can treat you better than any of those other guys, Y/N. Let me show you.”

Fuck it, you think to yourself. He’s here and he’s hot and he’s desperate for you. You turn to face Yeonjun, crashing your lips onto his. He tastes sweet, no doubt from the bubblegum he’s always smacking whenever you’re around.

When he moans into your kiss and grips his hand in your hair, you feel a shockwave in your core. You climb into his lap, his hard-on nestling in between your legs. He groans at the pressure.

“God, you’re so hot,” he gasps in between kisses. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this.”

“Trust me, I know,” you laugh. “You make it so obvious.”

“I can’t help myself around you, Y/N.” He snakes a hand underneath your skirt, his fingers feeling how he’s already got you soaked through your panties. It takes everything in him not to finish right then and there. “Can I touch you?”

“Not now,” you say, your hand gripping his wrist and pinning it against the couch. Tonight, you’re in charge. “Maybe if you’re good for me, we can do this again.”

“Please,” he sighs as you grind your hips into him. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

You never pegged Yeonjun as someone who begs in the bedroom, but you aren’t complaining. You pull away from him, moving off of his lap to beside him, your hand palming his erection through his jeans.

“Fuck, that feels good,” he says, his eyes squeezed shut and fists clenched. You bring your free hand up to his chin, moving his head to face you.

“Open your eyes,” you tell him. “I want you to look at me.”

“I can’t,” he stammers. “I’ll cum if I do.”

“You aren’t allowed to cum until I say so,” you whisper, sucking at the sensitive spot on his neck. His breathing grows heavier by the second. “Yeonjun. Look at me or I will never let you touch me again.”

His eyes shoot open and he’s not sure how much more he can take. Sure, your body is to die for, but it’s always been your face that he likes the best. Seeing you with messy hair and smudged lipstick, all because of him, is an image he won’t be able to get out of his head for months.

“You sound so pretty for me, baby,” you tell him, moving your hand faster. He could really get used to you calling him that.

By now, he can’t control his moans and tears start to run down his face. All he can do is whine your name over and over in the hopes that you’ll finally give him permission to finish.

As if it weren’t agonizing enough, the front door’s handle starts to jiggle. “Hey, Jun?” Taehyun’s voice calls from outside. “Can you let me in, man? I forgot my key.”

Yeonjun’s eyes go wide at the sound of his roommate. You reach up to cover his mouth. “Be quiet, Junie. You don’t want Taehyun to hear you, do you?”

He shakes his head as you continue palming him through his pants, one of your fingers slipping into his mouth. He moans around it.

Taehyun starts banging on the door. “Dude, are you asleep? Wake up! I need to shower and get to bed.”

You laugh at the nervous look on Yeonjun’s face, cupping his cheek with your free hand and placing a soft kiss on his lips. “Cum for me, baby. It’s okay.”

Your words send him over the edge and he’s bucking his hips into your hand just seconds later. He does his best to keep quiet, although not even your kiss is enough to dampen the string of profanities that leave his lips.

When he’s done, he stares at you with sleepy eyes and the most satisfied grin on his face. Both of you look down at the wet spot on his crotch. He’s never going to be able to wear these pants again.

“Go change,” you say, patting his cheek and getting up from the couch. You smooth your hair down and fix your skirt into place. “I’ll get the door.”

Yeonjun knows that every time he looks at you now, he’ll be thinking of coming undone under your touch. He quickly scrambles out of the room before you can let Taehyun in.

“It’s about fucking time, man,” Taehyun scoffs, his eyes locked on his phone. When he looks up, he’s shocked to be greeted by you instead of his roommate. “Y/N? What the hell are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you,” you say, smiling at the confused look on his face. “I wanted to tell you about my date.”

“Oh, yeah, that was tonight. Sorry, I picked up a game at the rec center.”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him, following him into his bedroom and shutting the door behind you. “Yeonjun kept me company.”

—————-

Taglist: @orangesodafoam @ur-mother-realnotclickbait @iyeeeverydee @internet-folks @darlingz99 @foxyjun @niningtori @csbenthusiast @lonelybutterflytae @midnight-mochii @theresawtf @nowadays56 @jjklvr9

Literally only tagging the people from my taglist that I KNOW are over 18!!!

#tomorrow x together #txt #txt fic #txt fluff #txt imagines #txt x reader #txt angst #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun angst #yeonjun imagines #yeonjun #yeonjun txt #txt yeonjun #txt smut #yeonjun smut

616 notes · View notes

wholoveseggs · 9 months ago

Note

Hi love,, how about elijah and reader have recently broken up and ready is exploring other options but elijah is still madly in love and gets super jealous? I’m thinking super rough with a touch of angst but mostly anger and jealousy?! (also a lot of kinks) ⋆˚✿˖°

Madness

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

You bring a date to the Mikaelson party, specifically to attract the attention of your estranged husband. The plan backfires; he's not the type to let you go so easily and makes sure to remind you that no one will ever take his place.

♡♡ Thanks for the request @spideysbabe & @ashloring! I love writing about Elijah's wild side ♡♡

6.4k words - Warnings: smut, oral sex, dom!Elijah, angry sex, rough sex, biting, blood drinking, spanking, jealousy, rim job (f!receiving), anal sex, riding, Elijah being possessive, lots of praise and a little degradation.

You probably shouldn't have brought a date to a Mikaelson party, but considering how you and Elijah ended things, you saw no problem with it. Was it petty? Yes. Was it immature? Also yes. Were you feeling a bit vindicated when you walked in the door and saw the look on Elijah's face? Absolutely.

You found the hottest guy possible on tinder, the kind with zero brains and all brawn. He was the perfect rebound, the type with an inability to commit to anyone, let alone you, but that's not what you wanted from him anyway. All you wanted was to make your ex jealous, and judging by the glare he shot at your date, it was working.

To the undiscerning eye, Elijah appeared to be the picture of composure, greeting the guests in one of his favorite suits. But you knew him better than that, and you could see the twitch in his jaw, the slight tension in his shoulders. And judging by the way he was avoiding your gaze, he was pissed.

When he was pissed, specifically at you, he would usually get you alone and give you a proper dressing down, and it always turned you on, a lot. The first time you'd fucked after a fight, it had taken you both by surprise. His usual gentle nature had given way to a possessiveness that made you see stars, and ever since, you'd been chasing the feeling.

You didn't really have a plan, a part of you wanted to do the healthy thing and move on, but there was another part of you, a part that was addicted to Elijah,that just wanted him back, it had been that way for so long you could barely remember a time before him. You were still mad at him, though, so you decided the best thing to do would be to try to make him jealous.

Your date wasn't going to last past tonight, you knew that, but he was the perfect prop for your little game. You knew Elijah would find you, you just needed to set the stage, so you pulled the big dumb beefcake to the dance floor.

He was a terrible dancer, but you didn't care, it wasn't about him. You already caught him flirting with several other women in the short amount of time you'd been here, but you couldn't be bothered. As long as he showed up on your arm, and looked hot while doing it, that's all that mattered.

"That asshole in the suit has been staring at us this whole time, and he doesn't seem too happy," your date said, trying to whisper, but it came out much too loud. You'd chosen him specifically because of that, you liked the way people looked at the two of you.

"Don't worry about him," you replied, pressing yourself against his body a little closer. "He's an ex. A controlling ex."

"He looks a little old for you, what is he like? 35?" Your date asked, looking directly at Elijah.

You stifled a laugh, "close enough, I guess."

"How long were you together? He's still giving me death eyes," he whispered, not subtly.

"A while," you shrugged, "but that doesn't matter anymore." You leaned forward and whispered in his ear, "I'm yours for the night."

You'd hoped he'd get the hint, but apparently it took a lot of hints for him to understand that you were looking for sex, and not anything else.

"Why'd you break up? He's obviously still hung up on you." The music changed, and he was still talking. "Did he cheat on you? I know a lot of guys who do that."

"No, nothing like that," you answered, your annoyance growing, "he's just a selfish asshole who likes to masquerade about his morals." You weren't entirely lying, you were pretty sure Elijah's ego was the driving force behind his recent decisions. "Plus he has a tiny cock," you added, for good measure.

Your date laughed, and you had to laugh along, you could feel Elijah's glaze burning into you. You glanced his way and his eyes met yours, and you had to resist the urge to blush under his gaze. His eyebrows were raised, a twinkle of amusement and anger in his eyes. You could practically hear him telling you that wasn't funny, that you were acting like a child.

Elijah always hated when you acted out. It was like he wanted you to be some sort of prim and proper lady, which you were for the most part. But every now and then, you felt the urge to be bad, and you enjoyed pushing his buttons.

"Get me a drink?" You asked your date, batting your eyelashes and giving him a wide smile.

"Of course," he replied, before heading off to the bar.

You went to a nearby table and leaned against it, trying to appear casual. You felt Elijah's presence behind you, and your stomach twisted in anticipation.

"Do you think I don't know what you're doing?" He asked, not bothering with pleasantries.

"Whatever do you mean?" You asked, pretending to be coy.

"This boy isn't going to last past tonight, so why did you invite him here?" He asked, leaning forward, his lips almost touching your ear.

"I don't know, I thought he might be fun," you shrugged, playing innocent. "I didn't realize I wasn't allowed to date other people," you added, knowing it would infuriate him.

"You are allowed to do whatever you want, but there will always be consequences," he replied, his voice low. "And your boy is getting a bit too friendly with my sister, don't you think?"

You glanced over, and sure enough, your date was chatting up Rebekah. Poor guy had no idea that Rebekah could eat him alive.

"I think Rebekah can handle herself," you said, looking away.

"You're not upset? You don't seem particularly attached to him," he asked, his fingers lightly brushing against your elbow.

"Worried that someone else has claimed my heart?" You asked, turning around to face him, a teasing smile on your lips.

"No, because I know it will always belong to me," he replied, a smirk on his face, a knowing look in his eyes. He always knew how to disarm you, and piss you off.

"I'm not yours, I think I made that very fucking clear," you snapped, your smile fading. The pain of your breakup was still fresh, and his arrogant attitude only fueled the fire.

"We both know that's not true," he said, stepping closer. "Even if we're not together, you're still mine."

"You are such an arrogant prick," you huffed, trying not to show how much his words affected you. You wanted to hate him, and sometimes you could, but in moments like this, your feelings for him overwhelmed you.

"If you think insulting me will erase how you feel for me, then you are deluded," he scoffed, before grabbing the back of your head, forcing you to meet his gaze.

He paused for a moment, taking in the fire in your eyes, the defiance that turned him on. He loved the struggle, it always led to the sweetest surrender with you.

"Did he fuck you yet?" He asked, his lips dangerously close to yours.

"That's none of your business," you snapped, pulling your head out of his grip.

Your date returned with the drinks before you could say anything, placing one in your hands.

"Here, honey. I got you a dirty martini," he said, before glancing at Elijah. "Get your own girl, mate, this one's mine," he added, wrapping an arm around your waist.

The blood boiled in Elijah's veins and he resisted the urge to grab this stupid boy by his head and slam it onto the table. Instead he gave him a deadly glare, smiling when the poor fool flinched slightly.

"You are aware that you are in my home with your arm around my wife," he said, his voice deceptively calm. He could feel you watching him, waiting for his reaction, and he was determined not to give you the satisfaction. Not yet, anyway.

"Your wife?" The boy sputtered, loosening his grip on you. "I didn't realize...I..."

You rolled your eyes, annoyed that he was letting Elijah intimidate him. You see Elijah's self-satisfied grin and it pisses you off.

"Don't mind him," you said, patting your date's chest. "He's just a control freak who's a bit threatened by younger men." You looked up at him, giving him a teasing smile. You knew you were poking the bear, but you couldn't help it, Elijah was making you feel things, and you were determined not to let him win.

Elijah leaned in close, his pupils dilating as he compelled him. "Sit and be quiet," he commanded, and the boy obeyed without question.

"What did you do that for?" You hissed, slapping him on the shoulder. "He didn't do anything to deserve that." The truth was, he wasn't doing much for you, but he didn't need to know that.

"There, now we can continue our conversation," Elijah said, ignoring your protest. "Now, answer my question. Did you fuck him yet?" He asked, his tone serious. His hand was resting on your hip, his grip firm. He knew exactly what he was doing, and it was driving you crazy.

"You didn't have to do that," you said, trying to remain unaffected by the whole exchange.

"It was either that or kill him," he shrugged.

"Well, now you're being a bit dramatic," you scoffed. You were determined to maintain the upper hand, despite the fact that he was getting under your skin. "He's an idiot, but he didn't deserve to die."

Rebekah had noticed the two of you standing there, and she headed over. She knew about your recent fight, and the reason for it. She also knew that the two of you were a disaster when it came to communicating, so she did what she did best and interfered.

"Well, well, what is this?" She asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Just a friendly conversation, dear sister," Elijah replied, his voice tight.

Rebekah looked down at the dazed man sitting between them, and then back up to the two of you. "Doesn't seem very friendly."

"Your brother is a possessive asshole, who thinks he owns me," you said, glaring at him.

"Your sister in law is acting like a child, trying to provoke me," Elijah replied, matching your glare.

Rebekah looked back and forth between the two of you, before shaking her head. "You two are exhausting," she sighed, "I think it's time for your date to leave, fix him, and send him home," she added, her voice leaving no room for argument.

Elijah sighed and looked down at your date, "stand up," he commanded, watching as the man did as he was told. "You will leave and forget that my wife even exists,"

"Elijah! You can't make someone forget me!" You said, outraged. Your plan was backfiring. You were supposed to piss him off and make him jealous, not the other way around.

Before Elijah could respond Rebekah grabbed the both of you by the arm and led you upstairs, into an empty bedroom.

"The two of you are being ridiculous. Acting like children and making a scene. This party was supposed to be a nice, relaxing evening. We are not in a fucking reality show," she scolded, her face turning red with anger. "Now, you are going to work this out, so I don't have to witness this bullshit anymore."

She slammed the door before either of you could respond. You turned to look at Elijah, and for a moment, the two of you were silent, the air filled with tension.

"Y/n," Elijah started, reaching out for your hand, but you pulled it away.

"I'm not doing this with you right now," you replied, moving towards the door, but Elijah blocked your way.

"Move," you ordered, glaring at him.

"No, not until you talk to me," he said, his jaw clenching.

"Or what? You'll compel me to stay?" You scoffed.

Elijah's expression changed to anger, taking a step forward and backing you up against the wall.

"You know that I would never do that," he growled, his voice low.

"You compelled my date, Elijah, and that was pretty low, even for you," you retorted, your hands coming up to push on his chest.

"That man was an absolute bore," he responded, a slight grin on his face.

"That doesn't make what you did okay, Elijah!" You shouted, frustration bubbling inside you.

"Don't pretend like you care, this isn't about him," he laughed. He knew what you were trying to do, and you hated that. "You brought him here because you want to provoke me," he continued, "you want to punish me."

"Maybe," you sighed, looking away, the heat between the two of you simmering. "Look, we just keep having the same fight," you finally said after a moment, still refusing to make eye contact. "We're never going to agree on this."

"We've overcome much worse in our time together," he countered, reaching out to cup your cheek, turning your head back towards him. "We are meant to be together. I know it, and you know it.

"Then why do you keep doing this to me, to us?" You whispered, barely audible. "You let Klaus use you over and over again, and it always ends badly. Why can't you just be satisfied with what we have?" You were trying hard not to cry, your emotions a messy jumble of pain, love and anger.

"My brother can be very persuasive, he's had over a thousand years to work on that," he explained, his thumb wiping away a tear that had slipped out. "He needs someone to believe in him, to fight for him, and it seems no one other than me is capable of that, or wants to even try."

You had heard this all before, the endless excuses, the justifications. "Don't you think its time he figured his own shit out and stop using you for it?" You snapped, losing your patience again. "He treats you like a means to an end, Elijah, and that has to hurt. I see how it hurts you, and it pains me to see you like this."

"What you are doing, fucking some nameless wretch just to piss me off, that hurts far more than Klaus," Elijah growled, his face inches from yours.

You opened your mouth to argue, but his lips crashed down onto yours, stealing your breath from you. You tried to resist him, but it was impossible. His kiss was intoxicating and you melted against him. Your hands tangled in his hair as you tugged him closer. He groaned and you pulled away, pushing against his chest, hard. He stumbled back a bit, a look of surprise on his face. He blinked, confused and you moved toward the door once again.

He grabbed your wrist, stopping you and pulling you to him. His lips were on yours in an instant, claiming you, dominating you. There was no point in fighting it, you were his, and you both knew it.

He moved to your throat and your head tipped back as he gently sucked and nipped at the delicate skin there. A small moan escaped your lips and your knees felt weak, a wet heat spreading between your thighs.

Your free hand wrapped in his tie and pulled him back to your lips. The kiss was raw and needy, and it awakened a fierce hunger inside both of you. Elijah let go of your hand and roughly grabbed your hips, lifting you up, slamming you into the wall. The force knocked the wind out of you but it wasn't enough to make you stop.

"Eli," you said with a bit more urgency, knowing that neither of you could keep it up much longer before you took things much, much further. "I - I can't, we shouldn't..." You tried to argue, but your body was betraying you, and his touches were setting your skin aflame.

Elijah released your hand and tugged at the hem of your dress, pulling it up to your hip. His hand dipped between your thighs, finding the soft, soaked lace of your underwear, a smirk spreading across his face.

"Liar," he whispered into your ear.

It wasn't like you had no control. If you wanted him to stop, all you had to do is say no and you knew Elijah would, but that's not what you really wanted. All your anger and frustration was dissolving into pure lust.

Elijah moved your panties aside, gently stroking his fingertips along your wet slit, slowly dragging the pad of his middle finger around your clit before dipping into your core. He watched the desire on your face as he pushed two fingers inside you and his eyes darkened at how wet you were for him.

"You're such a greedy little thing," he groaned into your ear, pumping his fingers deeper, "always so wet for me."

His fingers pumped faster and harder, his mouth finding yours, muffling your moans. When his thumb started massaging your clit, that was all it took. You shuddered as an orgasm rolled through you and you clutched at his shoulders to stay upright.

Elijah could feel you tremble and shake beneath him as waves of ecstasy washed over you. He chuckled softly, slowly withdrawing his fingers from your cunt. He slid the digits into your mouth, making you gag as they touched the back of your throat. You could taste the tang of your juices on them.

Elijah removed his fingers and you inhaled deeply, swallowing hard to clear the tickling in your throat.

"So beautiful when you come undone," he muttered, bringing you even closer, crushing you into his body. "I've missed hearing my name tumble from those sinful lips of yours."

You felt the blush creep into your cheeks and you buried your head into his neck.

"Elijah, this isn't us getting back together," you breathed into him. "This is sex," you clarified, even as your heart tightened in your chest. "Can you live with that?"

You could feel his smile on his lips.

"Can you?" he shot back.

His hand was resting on the curve of your bottom and he suddenly gripped it, his nails digging into your flesh. His fangs grazed the sensitive skin of your neck before sinking into your vein, and the sting was the best type of pleasure.

A small cry escaped your lips. With each pull of blood he was drinking more, sucking deeper, making it harder to breathe. You grabbed his biceps, clinging to him, the mix of intense pleasure and pain muddling your thoughts.

Your eyes fluttered closed as he finished drinking his fill and began licking the wound, a gentle groan escaping his lips.

"You've been mine for eight hundred years, do you think I would just give you up so easily?" He whispered, his breath tickling your neck. "If all we have to settle for is sex, then I will take it."

He lifted up his arm and offered you his wrist, without a second thought you sank your fangs into him, a rich taste filling your mouth. You drank deeply from his veins, and he held you close, watching your eyes darken and veins ripple around them.

He smiled and pushed your hair behind your ears, running his thumbs over your cheekbones. You wanted him badly, and as your gaze focused on him, a thrill went through your body. His hair was disheveled, his lips slick with the remnants of your blood, his eyes dark with arousal. He looked dangerous and sexy and so incredibly delicious. You needed more of him.

He set you down, letting your feet touch the floor, his hand tangled in your hair. Your gaze dropped to the erection straining against his tailored slacks. You knew exactly what he wanted you to do, but even when he was this worked up, he would never ask, always the gentleman.

You didn't want the gentleman though, it reminded you too much of the love the two of you once shared. No, tonight you wanted the possessive, rough, jealous vampire. The one he hid behind his red door and only let you see. You liked when he was ruthless.

You sank to your knees before him and he loosened his hold on your hair. With one hand, you grabbed his hip, while your other hand deftly unbuttoned his slacks. As you lowered the zipper, your breath brushed over the straining silk boxers, and you could hear him let out a soft growl.

You paused before freeing his cock, leaning in, placing a light kiss on the hard fabric and felt his muscles go tight. You were going to tease him, never quite giving him what he wanted, until he took charge. You needed that rough touch, the kind that could shatter the windows and break bones. The kind of touch you secretly longed for.

You pulled his boxer briefs down just a little, running the pad of your thumb down the underside of his length, before blowing cool air over him and making him twitch. Keeping your eyes on him, you leaned forward again, this time letting your tongue lick across the tip, cleaning his pre-cum from it.

His hands were in your hair, more forcefully now. You continued the teasing, until his grip was painfully tight, you could see the gentleman leaving him. It excited you more than you ever wanted to admit, even to yourself. You knew it wouldn't be much longer before he was ruining you.

Taking his thick girth into your hand, you moved your tongue to swirl around the tip. This time his response was not so reserved, a low, deep sound emitting from his chest.

You sucked lightly on the head, hollowing your cheeks and slowly stroking him in time with your movements. You purposefully kept him from feeling the full effect of your mouth. He was losing the battle over his restraint.

One of his hands cupped your chin, making you look up at him. There was a wild look in his eyes, his breathing ragged. He was trying not to let you push him, he wanted to have slow, passionate sex, make you want to come home and be with him again.

But tonight was not the night for that.

You fought your gaze, fluttering your lashes at him coyly. You saw it on his face, a war being waged. Only you could do this to him, undo his defenses, strip him bare.

"You wish to be treated like a whore," he said quietly, his words sounding almost bitter, though his voice had a strange timbre to it, a hint of excitement.

You tried to nod, your mouth still full of his cock, and his grip on your hair tightened, keeping you in place. He sighed, his thumb brushing along your cheekbone, an odd tenderness.

"Whatever my love wants," he murmured, sounding as if it hurt to say those words. He shoved himself deeper, not stopping when you started to cough, drool slipping down the corners of your mouth. He was so big, his size always overwhelmed you and made tears prickle your eyes.

You worked to breathe, knowing he was not going to be gentle this time. One of his hands left you and pressed into the wall, anchoring himself as he started to fuck your face with a bruising pace.

"Is this how you want to be treated? Letting me fuck your throat raw," Elijah hissed, his cock hitting the back of your throat and you gagged, saliva spilling over and down your chin. "I guess I don't have to hear your snide remarks now, do I?"

You didn't know what you expected, but this was exactly what you had been hoping for. He pulled on your hair hard, pressed your face into his hip, the hairs there making you twitch and your nostrils burn. Your hands gripped his thighs, trying to push him back as you struggled to breathe. You could only make rasping noises, your eyes tearing up, droplets pooling before they spilled.

He pulled you off, allowing you to breathe. Your chest was heaving, a long string of saliva hanging between his cock and your mouth. You kept his eye contact, your lips swollen and slick.

"Good," he murmured. "I'm glad you can finally understand that no other man will ever own you the way I do."

"You don't own me," you rasped out and the fire in his gaze burned.

The words were barely out of your mouth when he threw you onto the bed, the force making your head spin. He tore at the top of your dress, sending bits of fabric flying everywhere. You lay there panting, his eyes hungrily devouring every inch of your half naked form.

"Spread your legs," he commanded, not moving towards the bed, watching intently, waiting for you to comply.

"No," you responded, holding his stare, defiance flashing in your eyes.

His shirt was missing several buttons now, torn open to reveal the toned planes of his stomach and chest. In an instant he was on the bed, his hands grabbing your hips and pulling you underneath him. A slight grin playing on his lips.

"Do you think I don't see what game you are playing? If you want the monster, you've got him, darling," he whispered before capturing your mouth in a rough kiss.

His hands reached up, taking the cups of your bra down. When his fingers closed over your breasts, squeezing the soft flesh roughly, you couldn't contain your gasping cry, his thumbs pinching your nipples painfully.

"Tell me, did your little date fuck you like I do?" He growled against your chest.

You whimpered, twisting in his grasp, but his strength was no match for you, you could already see it in the flexing of his muscles. He bit down hard on your nipple, the shock of pain making you choke. His mouth was soft and warm, his tongue swiping over the hardened peak soothingly, but his teeth held on tightly, biting at your sensitive skin.

"Answer me," Elijah demanded, raising his head to lock his gaze with yours.

"E-e-e-e," you stammered, struggling to speak as his hands moved to your hair, roughly twisting the strands together and pulling, tugging your head back.

"E-e-e-e?" He mocked, kissing a trail over the curve of your jaw, ending at your lips, teasing the flesh with his teeth.

"Fuck you," you breathed, anger spiking through the lust clouding your mind.

He flipped you over abruptly, slapping your ass. You struggled to get away, but his hands were pressed into your back, not allowing you to move.

"Did he," another smack landed on your bare skin and the stinging ache made you gasp.

"Fuck you?" Two more blows, this time to your opposite cheek and you clenched the bed sheets tightly.

He pushed your panties down, grabbing your hips and tilting your bottom towards him, spreading your legs, revealing your wet core. You moaned, the need growing and making your toes curl, desperate to be taken.

"Hmm," he mused, tracing his thumb down the seam of your pussy. You moaned into the covers, your head burrowed between your arms, your hands making fists in the sheet. He parted your swollen lower lips and let out a shaky breath when your arousal coated the pads of his digits. He moves his thumb to your ass, teasing your opening and you feel more heat spreading across your cheeks as you squirm in protest, whimpering.

He chucked, slapping your left butt cheek playfully. "You've no right to blush," he mused, leaning down and running the tip of his tongue along the crack, before blowing a small puff of cool air on you and the tickling sensation sent shivers down your spine.

"I bet he couldn't satisfy you the way I do. Even as he tried ...you were thinking of me."

You froze, caught off guard, and then your teeth were clenched and you tried to break from his grasp again. He was being such a damn cocky asshole, always believing himself superior. Your pride bristled under his comments, anger starting to well within. You began to protest and fight when suddenly he pressed his thumb against your puckered entrance, the digit sinking into the knuckle, making you mewl into the mattress.

"Don't..." your voice trailed off, losing your thoughts as your hips rocked trying to grind yourself against his hand.

"I will use you however I see fit," he said with a chuckle, biting into the flesh of your ass. "Don't pretend you don't like the depravity."

His words were spoken so low, so ragged. It was like his entire demeanor had changed, the door cracked open and the monster was breaking through. He roughly spread the globe of your ass with his free hand, and ran his tongue along the seam of your hole before flicking his tongue against the pucker. He continued teasing your rim, making it even more slippery with his spit and you relaxed into his touch.

He lined the tip of his cock with your ass, pressing lightly against it and your nails raked across the sheets, gasping as he moved slightly inside. You arched and wiggled your butt trying to move, make him work for this, even though your body craved everything he offered. He grabbed your wrists and forced your arms above your head, holding them there. You heard his heavy breathing as he thrust his hips forward, his cock sliding past the ring of muscles and sinking into your depths.

Your face was pressed into the pillow, and you couldn't contain the lewd groaning escaping from your lips when he sunk his cock into your ass and stretched you.

"Too much...ahhh," you mewled, turning your head to take a large gulp of air, the feeling was too much as he slowly rocked into your body. You could barely catch your breath. He wasn't even fully inside.

"no, don't, too much; none of those sound like our safe word," Elijah taunted, his lips hovering over your ear, his words coming out in short panted breaths. He pulled out before plunging deeper, you could hear him sucking in air through his gritted teeth, struggling to hold back and enjoy the torturous pace.

The sweet ache of having him there, the burn as your body struggled to adjust, made your head swim. You felt light headed, overwhelmed. He chuckled and began rocking slowly, the soft roll of his hips letting you feel every inch. His strokes were leisurely, no rushing, drawing out the torment. His fingertips traced down your spine, his palm rubbing a slow circle on your back, soothing the tension.

"Such a good girl," he purred, "taking everything I have to give you."

The pace of his strokes increased, becoming hard and relentless, shoving you into the bed. You bit down into the mattress trying to stifle your sounds as the mix of pleasure and pain became so intense you could only scream.

Suddenly, his hands were in your hair again. He tugged you back harshly, pulling you upright, your back now flush with his front, his cock pistoning into your ass so hard your teeth nearly rattled.

"Let them hear," Elijah whispered into your ear. "Tell everyone here who fucks you best."

His name tumbled out of your lips over and over as the pressure built, tears rolling down your cheeks. You were babbling his name, half sentences, moans, a bunch of nonsense. He was forcing another orgasm to the surface.

Just before you tumbled over the edge, he bit down into your neck and everything turned bright white and sparks flared behind your eyelids. When he stopped drinking your blood, he pushed you back down and pulled out.

You lay there trying to catch your breath before he sat you up, scooting you closer to the edge of the bed, draping your legs over his shoulders. His cock was in your pussy before you could even inhale and then you were screaming his name again.

"Good girl," he groaned, as his hands gripped your hips, bruises blossoming in the dips of your flesh. He didn't slow this time, instead, he shoved the both of you backwards and fucked you into the bed. "Is this what you wanted? Hard, messy, raw." He lifted you and placed you on his lap.

Your head fell into the crook of his neck, too far gone to keep yourself up. His hands were on your ass, lifting you up and down. You clung to him, your fingers tangled in his hair, overwhelmed by the feeling of him using you, taking everything you had. He felt too good, even like this. He knew your body better than you did.

His hand hit your ass, a loud cracking noise filling the room.

"Don't go limp," he snarled, wrapping your hair around his fist and twisting, wrenching your head back and up so that your eyes were forced to meet his. His face was so close, your breath mixed with his.

Your breathing was rapid and shallow, your chest rising and falling. He took one of his hands and intertwined your fingers together, holding you closer. There were no words exchanged, but the intimacy of the gesture made you start to cry. It was too sweet. You tried to squirm out of his grasp and escape this sudden, unbidden vulnerability that seemed to be taking over, but he tightened his hold, moving your hips slowly on his lap. The man was insatiable.

"Don't run from it," he whispered, his lips capturing yours, kissing you with such gentleness, you ached. This was supposed to be rougher, you shouldn't have fallen apart like this, given in, surrendered yourself to this part of him. But now...you couldn't bring yourself to turn away.

A wave of ecstasy was washing over you, the kind of blissful peace you had never felt anywhere but here, wrapped in Elijah's arms, him buried deep in your core, the two of you close, lost in the heat of a passion and connection.

"I want you here with me," his mouth hovered near yours, his hips working harder and harder. "You are my home," his words made your heart squeeze tight and tears leaked from the corners of your eyes. It had been a very long time since he had said such tender words to you. But it was the most desperate pleas, the broken whines that followed that you couldn't ignore.

Your arms closed around him, clinging to him. As if he were your anchor in this chaos. Your mind swam, the lines blurring. This moment was just the two of you, lost in the sensations. A single moment in the midst of the madness. He held onto you tightly, whispering words of praise and affection. The tension built until it snapped, leaving the both of you spent and exhausted.

His mouth was on yours again, swallowing your gasps as you both came down. You lay there for a few moments, your eyes closed, the sound of your hearts pounding loudly in the quiet. You couldn't remember the last time sex was this good. You felt so content and boneless.

You were so lost in the haze of afterglow, it wasn't until Elijah was helping you into a bath that you realized how much time had passed. The warm water lapped against your skin as he settled you onto his lap, his hand trailing up and down your arm. You rested your head against his shoulder, enjoying the peaceful quiet, his warmth surrounding you, his scent, the feel of his bare skin under your fingertips, the brush of his chest hair.

You weren't sure what to say, didn't know how to break the silence. It was like the past few months had not existed. But the pain, the agony, the heartache were fresh. You weren't sure if you were ready to forgive him yet, but it was a step in the right direction.

"Will you stay?" Elijah asked, breaking the silence. His hand paused, fingers splayed on your thigh. He shifted you, turning you so you were facing him. His face was solemn, his brow furrowed and eyes serious. He brought his hand up, cupping your face, his thumb brushing across your cheekbone. He waited patiently for an answer. His expression hopeful, but guarded. The question was simple enough, but it meant so much more.

"I will stay," you whispered, leaning into his touch. You couldn't deny it, he was a part of you, you would always love him. No matter how much you hated him at times, there was no life without him. He was your home. It would take time to rebuild the trust between the two of you, but you had to believe it was possible.

A soft smile tugged at the corner of his lips and his eyes glistened with unshed tears. His head dipped forward, his forehead pressed against yours, the two of you breathing each other's air.

"Good, because I would have done a lot of things I am not proud of, to get you back," Elijah whispered, his thumb swiping along your bottom lip.

Your brow shot up, and a playful smile crossed your face, "What kind of things?" You teased.

Elijah let out a sigh and pulled you closer, "Kidnap, murder, perhaps a bit of torture." His mouth brushed over yours, a quick chaste kiss.

You giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck, "Sounds healthy," you quipped.

"It was, I assure you." He replied, his lips brushing against yours. His tongue slid into your mouth, a deep, languid kiss, a slow exploration of every inch. He pulled back, his eyes boring into yours, the heat and intensity making your stomach flutter. "What is love, if not madness." He finished, his mouth crashing down on yours again.

You didn't have a response, all the air was sucked from your lungs and the ability to speak vanished. Instead, you simply kissed him, hoping he understood. That the two of you were a beautiful mess of chaos, but it worked. It was real. This was love.

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

♡ @gorgeouslydangerous ♡ @starkleila ♡ @lydia1369sworld ♡ @notleylaaa ♡ @vampiresluv ♡ @vamprium ♡ @myanmy ♡ @xflowerbombxo ♡ @maryvibess ♡ @always-and-forever-daydreaming ♡ @criminallminds ♡ @theesexystallion ♡ @rosemarypotion ♡ @spnaquakindgdom ♡ @amournoir ♡ @loving-and-dreaming ♡

♡ @meeom ♡ @damienmorton ♡ @wickedmuse ♡ @sunkissedebony97 ♡ @idk00sblog ♡ @savannaounana ♡ @cs-please ♡ complicatedandconfusing-25 @hamiltimes ♡ @akala6670229 ♡ @yeaiamme2 ♡ @itsjulzandmydiamonds ♡ @spideysbabe ♡ @witch-of-letters ♡ @elijahmikaelsonsboy ♡ @rosecentury ♡

#elijah mikaelson #the originals #the vampire diaries #vampire diaries #tvdu #elijah mikaelson smut #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikealson imagine #elijah mikealson #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikealson x reader #tvd #the vampire diaries x you #the vampire diaries x reader #the vampire diares imagine #the vampire diaries imagine #the originals imagine

472 notes · View notes

seokminfilm · 3 months ago

Text

shirt | lee seokmin

pairing: lee seokmin x reader

warning: non-idol au, domestic fluff, boyfriend!seokmin, lots of kissing, some lighthearted teasing (from seokmin), seokmin showers reader with compliments, petnames ("baby", "sweetpea", "darling), laying your head on seokmin's chest, so much fluff oh my god

now playing: get up, new jeans

word count: 931

Comfy and cozy in your boyfriend's oversized t-shirt and fuzzy socks, you enter the bedroom with a damp towel and wet hair. Seokmin looks up from his book as he locks eyes with your figure, melting at the blob that is your body engulfed in his oversized shirt.

"Is that my shirt, baby?" Seokmin perks up, wavy hair flopping like a puppy's ears as he gives you wide, sparkly brown eyes. He shoots up in bed, back straight and book thrown off to the side as he reaches out to you. You nod, smiling widely as you fling yourself into his arms.

"Yeah, I found it in my dresser before you came upstairs." You hold out your arms, currently draped in the big t-shirt that belongs to Seokmin. He chuckles, fingertips grazing your warm skin as he tugs at the oversized sleeves.

"You look so cute in it. So pretty and warm, baby," Seokmin whispers, pecking the shell of your ear with his soft lips, It makes you want to giggle like a schoolgirl, the way he's piling sweet compliments on top of you.

His arms bring you closer to his chest, and you play with the hem of his shirt for a while as he checks his phone. Seokmin's not looking down, which gives you an opportunity to admire your boyfriend's muscled arms and firm chest. You feel yourself sinking deeper into Seokmin's warmth, and you almost end up falling asleep before he puts his phone down with a sigh.

"Hey, is something wrong?" You ask, sitting up quickly to take Seokmin's cheek in yours as you rub it with your thumb. He shakes his head, lips pursed together as he gives you a tight smile.

"No, no, sweetpea. Just a reminder from a coworker, that's all. Let's talk about something fun, baby—I'm tired of thinking about work." Seokmin snuggles in deeper into the warm king-sized bed, pulling you with him as his thighs flex under you.

"What do you want to talk about?" You ask, and Seokmin hums, obviously deep in thought. You stare at him, pretty eyelashes and delicate beauty marks decorating where they've always been.

"How was your day, baby? I feel like I haven't asked you yet." Seokmin always asked you how your day went, whether it was over dinner, your arrival home, or nights like these—where you'd lay on Seokmin's lap and elaborate on whatever cane to mind.

"It was pretty good—I got a lot done, and I'm glad to be home with you." Smiling, you can't help but put a hand on Seokmin's neck as you press a kiss to his jawline and then his lips.

His eyelashes flutter shut as your shadow covers on him, and once you pull away he opens them again, brown eyes so full with love and adoration towards you, it made your heart soft. Seokmin smiles at your words, cheekbones raising with his warm smile as he nods.

"I'm glad to be home with you too. I missed you. I always miss you, but I missed you a bunch tonight." Seokmin admitted that he could be clingy at times, but that was your favorite thing about him, and you could admit you loved coming home to your boyfriend's big arms, sweet hugs, and warm yet mellow personality.

Seokmin stared at you with such intent and adoration in his eyes that he couldn't help but bring a kiss to your lips again, and he hummed with the sound of his beating heart that sped up every time you moved.

You found it adorable, the way that Seokmin's heart still sped up every time you got close—it made you feel like you had just started dating him all over again, in that sweet yet awkward stage that you loved the most when getting to know him.

"You look so cute in that shirt." Seokmin compliments you again, and you start to become flustered, laughing as you thank him again. He sits up, and you crawl off of him, sitting beside him as you smile. "You've said that about ten times in the past thirty minutes, Minnie."

"You're so pretty, though, sweetpea. I've been so blessed to have you to be mine. So pretty, and so humble about it—my sweet darling." He was feeling himself now, smiling at you deviously as he lowered his gaze to your lips: you were stuck in panic mode, still not used to this side of Seokmin—the flirtatious, kissing-prone side.

"Seokmin," You whined, and your boyfriend giggled, cutting off the rest of whatever sentence you were about to form with a messy kiss. You sighed under him as you melted into his hands, now settled at your waist as you ran your hands through his wavy hair.

After a few minutes of soft kissing and mischievous hums from Seokmin, he pulls away, leaving you breathless and scrambling for a semblance of normalcy as he smiles deviously again.

"Where did you learn how to kiss like that?" You question, and Seokmin just smiles, pressing a softer, more intimate kiss to your forehead as he replies. "I don't know. I think I'm so in love it just came naturally to me."

You laugh, leaning back as your head hits the pillow. Seokmin does the same, laugh coming down to a close as he turns to glance at you, hand coming up to trace your lips.

"I love you." The words are sweet on their own, but with Seokmin's sincere tone, and sweet brown eyes, you can't help but believe them ten times more.

"And I love you, Seokkie."

taglist: @kstrucknet @kyeomssant @realmofclouds @oojiehae (comment to be added!)

comments, reblogs, and likes are forever and always appreciated! thank you <3

184 notes · View notes

blackenedsnow · 4 months ago

Note

Heyy, if you’re comfortable doing so could I please get some Beetlejuice x fem!reader who’s a single mom? Just pretty much him being soft and comforting letting her know she’s doing a good job etc? Thank you in advance 💕💕💕 can be a proper fic or headcanons I’ll let you decide xx

beyond it

WARNING: References to the stress of single motherhood

PAIRING: Beetlejuice x Single Mother! Reader

NOTE: I absolutely loved writing this!! I hope you enjoy this, and thank you so much for the request 💕💕

SUMMARY: Beetlejuice surprises you by being a source of comfort, helping you see that you’re doing better than you give yourself credit for.

It was late—too late for you to still be up. But as a single mom, you didn’t have the luxury of falling into bed as soon as the day ended. No, there were dishes to clean, laundry to fold, and tomorrow to worry about. And of course, your child had woken up twice already, needing reassurance from a nightmare.

You were running on fumes, slumped on the couch, your face buried in your hands. It felt like all you ever did was work. Just when you thought you could finally close your eyes and sleep, your thoughts picked up again—worrying about what needed to be done tomorrow, whether you were doing enough, whether your child was okay.

“Hey, dollface, rough night?”

This fucking guy.

That voice—raspy, familiar—cut through the fog of exhaustion like nails on a chalkboard. Beetlejuice. You didn’t bother looking up. He was probably lounging in his usual spot, perched on the armrest of your couch with a stupid grin plastered on his face.

"Go away, BJ," you muttered half-heartedly. "Not tonight."

The ghoul groaned dramatically. "Aw, come on! And here I thought we were past the whole 'piss off, Beej' stage of our relationship." You felt a cold presence next to you, then his hand—decaying yet surprisingly gentle—lightly brushed your shoulder. "I mean, after all the times I’ve stuck around, don’t I get any appreciation?"

You exhaled sharply, finally lifting your head. "Appreciation? For what, exactly?"

"For being a goddamn delight, babes!" Beetlejuice beamed, leaning back against the couch and spreading his arms wide. "For hanging around when no one else does. Gotta say, not a lot of folks could handle a single mom with your level of stress."

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn't hide the tiny smile tugging at your lips. "If by 'hanging around,' you mean constantly being a nuisance, then yeah, sure."

Beetlejuice chuckled, his voice rough yet oddly soothing. His eyes, usually wild and manic, softened just a bit as they focused on you. “Ah, you love it. Don’t lie, babe.”

You shook your head, sinking deeper into the couch. "I’m just… tired, Beej. I'm really tired."

For once, he didn’t launch into another sarcastic quip. Instead, Beetlejuice shifted closer, his body language relaxed but attentive. “Yeah, I know. I can see it. You’ve been runnin' yourself ragged for, what, weeks? Months?”

Your eyes welled up, but you quickly blinked the tears away. “I just… I feel like I’m not doing enough. There’s always something I’m missing, something I should be doing better.”

Beetlejuice’s hand rested fully on your shoulder now, his touch surprisingly solid. "Oh, come on, you're killing it out here, babe. You think your kid’s got it bad? They've got you. And lemme tell ya, you’re doing a hell of a job. Better than most."

You glanced over at him, surprised by his sincerity. "Really? You think so?"

“Are you kidding? Babe, I see it. I see you juggling work, taking care of the kid, making sure they're happy. And yeah, it’s messy and chaotic, but guess what? They're fine. They're happy, ‘cause you’re busting your ass for 'em.” He leaned in a little closer, his expression for once free of mischief. “You’re doin' more than enough."

His words hit you hard, in a way you hadn’t expected. You didn’t know why, but hearing it from Beetlejuice—someone who you never thought would care about anything—meant something. It eased the tight knot that had been sitting in your chest all day.

“I just don’t want to mess them up,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. “They deserve better than… than this.”

"Whoa, whoa, slow down there, sweetheart." Beetlejuice’s voice softened. He slipped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you in close. “They've got you, and that’s more than enough. You’re not perfect—who the hell is?—but you're trying. And that's what matters. Trust me, when they grow up, they're gonna see that.”

You allowed yourself to lean into him, resting your head against his chest. His suit smelled like a mix of dirt and decay, but there was something oddly comforting about the way he held you, like he was actually trying to be there for you, to support you in his own weird way.

“Hey, tell you what,” he said, his voice low. “Next time you feel like crap, I’ll stick around. We’ll cause some shit together, huh? Might help take the edge off.”

You chuckled softly, wiping at your eyes. “Yeah, maybe.”

Beetlejuice grinned, but it wasn’t the mischievous, cocky smirk you were used to. It was softer, almost tender. “You’re doin' good, doll. Don’t let anyone—including yourself—tell you otherwise.”

You looked up at him, and for the first time since he’d shown up in your life, you realized how much you appreciated him. Not just as the obnoxious ghost who wouldn’t leave you the fuck alone, but as someone who—despite his crude humor and questionable ethics—actually cared. Maybe not in the typical way, but in a way that mattered.

"Thanks, Beej," you whispered, closing your eyes as you let the exhaustion finally catch up to you. "I mean it."

Beetlejuice stayed quiet for a moment, just holding you close. "Anytime, babe. Anytime."

#beetlejuice #keatlejuice #beetlejuice x reader #keatlejuice x reader #beetlejuice movie #x reader #oneshot #ask #request #fanfic #tim burton x reader #tim burton

199 notes · View notes

chlorinecake · 10 months ago

Text

The Jealous Type | P. JS

contains rich boy jay x female reader, heavily gossip girl coded, kissing, jealousy, angst, cunnilingus (⚠︎)

Jay has a temper, which meant you’d have to hold a movie-star smile whenever he stormed out of business meetings upon flipping a few chairs…

Jay has a high sex drive, and you still haven’t quite mastered the art of making yourself look half-decent after a quickie in his office…

Jay has a reputation, and you’ve known since day one that dating the son of a multimillionaire in a city of bright lights with even brighter personalities meant one thing for you:

That you’d have to learn to look clean while playing dirty at all times.

Picture the backseat of a sleek Rolls Royce, tinted windows, chilled drinks, and roughly three minutes away from your final destination.

“I live a fast life, ____,” Jay began while sitting beside you, almost in a manner of warning as he relaxed into his seat.

“Great. Running sounds like fun,” you said, trying to display confidence before him.

“Every once in a while, maybe, but only if you can keep up…”

You let his words sink in, “Then I'll practice for you.”

He shook his head, “I'm afraid there's not much time left for that, love...”

“Well I've always believed in this thing called beginners luck.”

Your voice trailed off, heart prepared for another one of his defeated responses until he reached a hand in his side to grab something.

“Hold my wallet,” he said plainly, handing the leather rectangle to you.

“Jay, l—”

"Open it...” he pressed, taking your hand in his to force your reluctant fist open, “like it's yours.”

Taking heed to his words, you let out a breath, thumb and index finger tugging at the zipper to reveal a line of bills and his infamous black credit card.

“Jay, what’re you getting at here?”

“Don't look so impressed, it might come off as common,” he interrupted, watching your fingers pause at the leather opening.

You scoffed, “What's that supposed to mean?”

“That we’re in a movie, ____,” he smiled, “Just act the role to win the part.”

Aww, how wise of him….

“Great, so you won't let me run with you but playing pretend is okay?”

His smile didn’t falter at your words, only morphing into a smolder as he peered closer to you.

“Now why would I ever make you run in these sexy five inch heels?”

Your eyes fell to his hand that caressed your thigh once again, “Because sometimes, beauty is pain...”

“Very true… but it doesn't have to be...,” his voice encouraged gently, “not yet... not tonight.”

You expressed agreement with a hum before speaking again, “So can you take your fancy wallet back now?”

“Keep it,” he answered almost immediately, “Let's see if beginner's luck will help you hold onto it…”

“I'd sew this wallet to my ribcage if I had to—”

The vehicle suddenly came to a stop, flashing lights barely visible through the tinted windows as the car doors unlocked in unison.

“This is your exit,” the chauffeur clarified with a strong European accent, Jay offering the driver a thankful wave and stepping out of the car.

He walked over to your side of the car and did the same, telling you to “watch your step” as your feet met the ground.

Jay was right about one thing…

There wasn’t much time for you to practice “running” now that you were just seconds from meeting his friends and family for the first time…

The event in question was Mr. Park’s annual dinner party, held at his newly renovated restaurant in The Palace Hotel.

As soon as you stepped through the automatic sliding doors, you were met with the sound of live classical music thrumming from the center stage.

It wasn’t long before you and Jay got to socializing, helping yourselves to a few hors d’oeuvres and swigs of sparkling champagne under the glass chandelier.

His parents apparently had to leave the event early due to an unexpected emergency, so gossipy topics surrounding his family were definitely on the table.

You made sure to stay beside Jay the entire night, not only to comfort him, but to protect yourself.

That’s when a certain woman who had her eyes stuck on you two since the night began made her way by with a seductive sway in her hips.

“Nice chain, handsome,” she started without hesitation, her unfamiliar face somehow telling of her familiar intentions:

Trouble and drama.

“Thank you, Jennifer,” Jay replied, jawline clenching slightly at her prior use of a nickname.

Saying that Jay looked annoyed right now would be an understatement.

This Jennifer person was obviously his ex, though she continued speaking as if you weren’t even there.

“Isn’t that the same one you used to let me wear?,” she asked, eyes falling to his collarbone where the chain necklace sat.

“No,” he answered, a feigned smile masking the bitterness in his heart, “I got rid of that one a long time ago…”

“Aww,” she pouted, poking her acrylic nail into his shoulder, “do you have any idea how sad that makes me feel?”

“Don't poke at my boyfriend like he's some kind of toy,” you defended, your sudden boldness startling her.

Her hand stop at his the hem of his sleeve, cold green eyes meeting yours with a glare strong enough to make your skill crawl.

Yep… you officially hated her.

“Please, darling... lighten up,” she chirped, “this is just how me and Jay like to play sometimes... isn't that right, handsome? Or do you need a reminder—”

“That'd be rather unnecessary, don't you think?,” Jay snapped at her, “Maybe even a little crass...”

“Well your new girl seems tough... a little story time wouldn't hurt her…”

“Too bad I'm feeling a bit talked-out for the evening,” you spoke against her shameless demeanor, “It was nice meeting you, Jennifer. Really...”

“You too,” she mouthed with a smile, too prideful to reply loud enough for you to hear.

Turning on a heel, you hooked your elbow with Jay's, leading him outside of the venue.

“____, I can explain,” Jay started, matching your walking pace as you circled to hotel parking lot.

You shook your head, “There's no need, Jay… Your ex is a bitch, I get it.”

“____...”

“Can we just go back home already?,” you proposed, just realizing that you’d been holding your breath.

You exhaled weakly, Jay finding your shoulders as he turned you to face him, just inches from the car.

“Yes, love, we can go home, just please calm down for me, okay?”

The pitch of his voice lowered with its volume, “This was just as hard for me as it was for you…”

With that, a silence swarmed between you, just as his hand went to grip the chain around his neck.

He gave it what looked like an effortless tug before each metal link broken apart, leaving the once beautiful necklace into shiny sprinkles of gold on the pavement.

You let out another breath, “You lied, Jay... why would you keep her necklace—”

“I'm not proud of it, ____...,” he interrupted, eyes facing the ground, “but I wasn't gonna sit there and feed into her games by telling the truth...”

“Yeah… that’s because you just stood there and let her touch you instead," you retorted, walking past him and getting into the car.

You’re glad the ride home wasn’t long, you two having arrived at his penthouse somewhere around ten minutes upon leaving.

Jay's boots clicked with each step as he held your hand, guiding you up the stoned path and past the front door.

Few words were exchanged between you both once you got to the master bedroom, plopping yourself on the bed as he stood with his hands at his hips.

“What a waste of good food today... my dad would’ve been pissed to find out the guests hardly ate anything…”

Jay spoke lowly, drawing your eyes to the red velvet stain on his still crisply ironed white sleeve.

“Speaking of food, you have a bit of cake on your blazer... here, let me help you...”

He sighed, “I've got it, ____. It's really no big deal...”

“No, i-it's in an awkward spot, just let me just wipe it for y—”

“I said I've got it, alright!?”

His sharp features faltered upon realizing that he'd just raised his voice at you, and for no good reason.

“I apologize, love—”

“Whatever, Jay,” you sighed, plopping yourself on the hotel mattress, “this was all just a bad idea to begin with…”

“What do you mean by that?” He asked, arching his back so his blazer to fall off his shoulders, noting in his mind to spot-clean the stain later.

“It's just... I don't fit in your world... not a single part of it…”

Jay joined you on the bed, just in his T-shirt and slacks now as he took your face in his right hand.

“There's not a single place in my heart where you don’t fit in perfectly… y'know that?”

“I do, Jay...,” you answered quietly, meeting his dark eyes, “thank you...”

“Of course,” he smiled, placing a tender kiss to the back of your hand, “now let's get out of these fancy clothes and into something more comfortable, yeah?”

“Mhm,” you nodded, Jay standing up now and leaning before you to untie the heel straps around your ankles.

“You looked beautiful tonight, by the way,” he smiled, hands reaching beneath your evening gown to pull down the thigh-high satin stockings you wore.

“So did you.... handsome,” you smiled, propping up on your elbows to wash him undress you, and cheeky look on his face at your words.

“I learned something about you thanks to tonight,” he started, standing back up and giving you a look, “didn’t know you were the jealous type…”

You scoffed, feeling his hand tap at your thigh as a cue to turn over on your stomach now.

And so you did, hips up as he crawled onto your back in a straddling position, moving your hair out the way while admiring your beauty.

Your eyes were still internally rolling at his comment up until you felt him massaging your shoulders gently.

Somehow, you could tell he smiled at the little hums that escaped your throat once he applied a bit of pressure.

In a strange way, Jennifer’s behavior had a way of pulling both anger and anticipation out of you…

No, you didn’t like how she got all handsy with your man right in front of you, but you somewhat enjoyed the effect your reaction had on Jay…

He felt bad about what happened. Terrible, even.

And you could see it all over his pouty face that he wanted to make things up to you…

You laid there face down on the mattress beneath him, not able to focus on anything other than the feeling of his bulge pressing into your thighs.

He was turned on right now, and so were you—

“I still think I behaved myself pretty well tonight considering, though,” you huffed quietly, letting your body melt beneath his weight.

Your eyelids fluttered shut as his touch trailed from your hips to your waist, “And I’m very proud of you for that, love,” he whispered adoringly.

His hands now found the necklace around your neck, unclasping it with a simple click before reaching over to place it on the mini bedside table.

“Want me to unzip your dress for you as well while I’m here?…”

All you did was nod lazily in response, the cold metal zipper of the matching white gown you wore sending shivers down your delicate spine.

He slowly followed the trail along the curve of your back, chill air hitting your skin once he fully unzipped it past your hips.

“You know I’d never leave you for someone else, right?”

You let out a hum, feeling a bit frisky now that you were half-naked beneath him…

“Can’t be sure… who knows, there might be another piece of jewelry attached to one of your ex’s lying around here somewhere…”

He made a face at you even though you couldn’t see him from your position, “Seriously ____?”

“Very…” you answered, “…and I’m sorry...”

“It's okay,” he chuckled, letting his hands knead your hips, “But I guess that just means I’ll have to prove you wrong now…”

Your eyes flew open, brows slightly furrowed, “And prove me wrong how, exactly?”

“By giving you something I’ve never given anyone else before…”

He shimmied the evening gown past your thighs, revealing the lace lingerie set you wore underneath, it’s elastic hem snug around your plush skin…

The sight alone was enough to make him feel needy, your round ass perched up perfectly for him.

“Oh, so the whole wallet thing wasn’t a first-time trick either?” You joked, knowing he always liked it whenever you were sassy with him.

Jay smiled at your words once again, “On your back for me, princess.”

You sighed playfully before rolling over like he asked, his hands leaving the curve of your body as you got adjusted.

It didn’t take long for Jay to start teasing you back, letting a single finger circle your clothed breast but never touching your nipple.

You wanted him to grope your tits so badly, but instead his other free hand ghosted over your core, intentionally avoiding contact with your sweet spot.

“I have to ask this because I'm a gentleman, but do I have permission to make you cum more than once tonight?”

His question didn’t catch you off guard, but it definitely made you feel something in your stomach.

With dreamy eyes, you struggled to either focus on the spot between his legs or the smirk on his face…

“Only if you mean it...,” you finally uttered, giving him the cue he’d been waiting for so he could please you properly.

He let out a chuckle at your words, “Make sure you hold still for me, princess… you can pull on my hair if it gets too much...”

You watched as he nestled between your legs, looking up at you as a kitten waiting for head pats.

“But that'll hurt you, Jay...”

“I know,” he smirked, tugging your lingerie to the side and marveling at your swollen heat.

He immediately started lapping at your wetness, spitting on your clit despite how wet you already were.

“So fucking pretty,” he hummed in between making out with your sensitive cunt, foul sounds bouncing off the walls as your chest heaved with need.

Your hips subconsciously circled his face, the added movement heightening your pleasure.

You let your hands find his hair, not pulling yet but more so clawing at his scalp.

Jay groaned at your actions, looking up at you while his tongue still flicked against your clit.

The sight and sensation combined made your thighs tremble, Jay’s strong hands holding your hips down against the mattress.

“Baby, you’re supposed to stay still, remember?”

The words left his mouth in such a cooing manner, your mind going foggy because of his raspy bedroom voice.

You managed to squeak out a weak sentence, breathiness in your tone from all the action, “I-I’m trying, Jay…”

You cut yourself off when a loud whine slipped past your mouth, Jay’s hand reaching up to grope your tits while he kept sucking.

At this point, you couldn’t help but to tug at his locks, guiding his face against your folds for your own pleasure.

And he loved every bit of it… you using his face to help yourself climax.

You didn’t expect for a finger to enter you though, especially not a second one once he sped up his licking movements.

Another moan meddled from your body, eyes sealing shut as your hips rutted into his mouth, Jay’s little grunts acting as your breaking point.

The band in your stomach eventually popped, your clit throbbing with pleasure once Jay let his mouth ease your high with kitten licks and kisses.

He looked at you with such love in his eyes, “Are you convinced yet, princess?”

You couldn’t believe he was trying to talk to you in a state like this, but you still knew exactly what he was referring to with that question…

“Yes, but I think you could still do a little more,” you whispered back teasingly, caressing his face that was beaming with a subtle glow just from tasting you.

A smirk tugged at Jay’s lips once you stuck out a hand to pull him closer.

He sealed the contact with a kiss, resting a hand on your exposed thigh that still trembled slightly from your first climax.

“____,” he broke away breathlessly, clinging to your waist, “are you sure you can handle more? We can stop here…”

It’s not that he was concerned, as it was quite obvious in you haze stained eyes that you wanted more from him.

Though, given how tired you’d become after such a long day, he didn’t wanna risk overdoing it.

“But we just started kissing properly,” you protested lazily, leaving another peck to his puffy lips.

“I know, princess,” he smiled again, massaging the flesh of your thigh with his hand, “but we can always continue this another time…”

Another time when you two didn’t have to be at the airport around four in the morning the next day...

You understood him perfectly, and as his lady, you intended to respect him whenever he called the shots, even if it meant you’d have to wait.

“A better time, then,” you added, lips not being able to stay off of his as guided you back against the mattress.

In all honesty, it wasn’t easy for him to tell you no like this, especially not with the raging boner in his pants now, but he knew your rest was more important.

It didn’t take long for him to hang up all your clothes, hop in the shower with you.

He had even helped you wash your hair, massaging your scalp and washing you down before grabbing you both a clean set of pajamas to wear.

And of course, they were matching.

Finally, you took it upon yourself to prepare a set of fresh bedding linen for you two, starting a load on laundry to get back to whenever you could.

Letting out a yawn, Jay found the silk mattress first, still smelling of his potent lavender body wash by time you joined him.

Finding your waist, he pulled you against his toned chest, snuggling his member in between the natural shape of your hips, but not in a sexual way…

More so, it was a protective cuddling position, in essence…

He left a few kisses along your neck, helping you to get comfortable under the covers.

“Moving forward,” you started randomly, “let’s make sure there are no Jennifer’s on the guest lists for your private events…”

Jay let out a laugh that melted your lovesick heart all over again, “Aww, we have our first mutual enemy…”

“Can’t say she doesn’t deserve it, either…,” you returned, grazing the knuckles of the hand he held you with, “thanks for making me feel better, baby...”

He pressed another warm kiss to soft skin, “Of course, princess… Now let’s get some sleep now, hmm? We have another obligation tomorrow, you know….”

Ahhh, yes… The fast life of Jay Park.

“To tomorrow…” you agreed, feeling his warmth leave you for a second as he turned the night light off, “now hold me properly, you’re not close enough.”

✧ Thank you to everyone who’s reading this right now!! I meant to give this story a full smut ending, but for some reason, it’s always hard for me to write intense sexual stuff for Jay ;-; … Anyways though, this was also my first time writing a oneshot for our Mr. Jongsby, so let’s hope I did him justice and y’all liked this one :’3 …

✧ My masterlist for newbies and bored readers huhu ^^

✧ 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ( 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 💌 ) @squoxle @wonbinisbabygurl @ashgonedash @yourmomscuntis2tighy @watamotee33 @addictedtohobi @ot7sevenlvr

#enhypen #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #park jongseong #jay smut #jay ff #jay hard thoughts #jay hard hours #enhypen jay imagines #enha smut #enhypen jay

584 notes · View notes

letsgetrowdy43 · 5 months ago

Text

Toasting to forever—

Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Requested by @sweetestdesire: My sweet Rowan, you already know who I’m gonna request. May I please request a blurb with our sweet Quinn with the prompts "I love that grumpy face of yours." and "I'm not grumpy. Not everyone can smile all the time. Except you." 🥹

Warnings/notes: No warnings, just some tooth-rotting fluff 🩷 Also thank you so so much, Brynn, my love for the request, I hope you love it as much as I loved writing it!!

End of summer celebration!!

There was never something Quinn hated more than celebrating himself, but for his soon-to-be wife, he would do nearly anything to make her happy.

Even if that meant ordering round after round to keep her happy and toasting to their upcoming marriage.

This is what led him to this moment—two weeks before their wedding, sitting in a booth and scattered across a dimly lit bar in downtown Detroit, surrounded by all their closest friends and family. It was a joint bachelor and bachelorette party, kicking off the whirlwind of wedding activities that would fill the next two weeks.

Their schedule seemed never-ending at that point, from last fittings with the tailor to the helping of making table centrepieces, the list of to-do's seemed never-ending, so this night was meant to be a break of sorts.

But to Quinn, this night felt like a necessary evil. He didn’t enjoy being the center of attention, but for his soon-to-be wife, he’d endure it.

Quinn shifted uncomfortably on the leather of the booth bench, trying to ignore the clamour of the rowdy group around him and the sweaty Brady and Josh loudly screaming lyrics along with the woman singing karaoke on the stage. The music was loud, the drinks kept coming, and the laughter echoed off the walls.

Normally, he would’ve been fine with a quiet night at home, but tonight wasn’t about him.

Tonight was about her and him being with the people they loved the most.

He glanced over at his fiancée, who was at the other end of the bar bidding goodbye to her pregnant cousin and husband, her face lit up with joy as she was pulled into a short hug. She looked radiant—so effortlessly happy—and for a moment, he couldn’t help but smile. He loved seeing her like this, carefree and surrounded by the people they both cherished.

Still, as much as he adored her, the chaos of the bar was wearing him down. He rubbed a hand over his face, feeling the weight of the long night and the constant attention on them both. His fiancée caught his eye from across the table and gave him a soft smile, one that silently said she understood. She knew he wasn’t the biggest fan of big celebrations, and yet here he was, enduring it for her.

She stood up, excusing herself from the conversation on the other end of the table and made her way over to him, slipping into the booth beside him, her fingers brushing his curls away from his face before she ran her thumb over the stubble on his cheeks.

"Hey," she said softly, placing her hand on his knee, “you okay?” He nodded, offering her a small smile as he caught her hand and pressed a gentle kiss to the inside of her wrist, “yeah. Just… it’s a lot, you know?” She chuckled softly as he pulled her gently to sit her in his lap, a smile pulled on her lips as her thumb traced over his features, “I know. But you’re doing great. We’re almost through it.”

Quinn turned his head to press a kiss to her shoulder, his arm instinctively wrapping around her waist and holding her closer, "I love that grumpy face of yours," she whispered like her confession held the weight of a thousand words before she pressed a kiss to his tired frown. Quinn smiled softly into her lips before he shook his head, "I'm not grumpy," he mumbled as her face morphed into a look of unconvinced, "Not everyone can smile all the time, except you."

The quiet 'except you' pulled a wide grin from his fiancee as she pressed a kiss to his forehead, then to his cheekbone, and once again to his growing smile.

“I am happy. And you know what? I’m even happier because you’re here with me. I know this isn’t your thing, but it means a lot to me that you’re trying.” “For you?” Quinn smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “I’d do anything.”

They sat like that for a while, tucked into the corner of the bar, away from the loud energy of the party. For a brief moment, it felt like it was just the two of them in their own little world, Quinn's favourite feeling.

“I can’t believe we’re getting married in two weeks,” she said quietly, her fingers playing with the collar of his polo, her fingers moving to play with the chain hung around his neck. “Neither can I,” he replied, a soft chuckle escaping his lips, “but I’m ready for it. More than anything.”

She smiled up at him, leaning in to kiss him gently, her hands cupping his cheeks as she closed the gap between them once again, but this time a little more heated and lovingly as she pressed a hot and slightly heavy kiss to his chapped lips. “I am too. And after all this is over, we can just relax, okay?” she mumbled as she pulled away, forehead pressed against his as his fingers gently squeezed her torso.

“Deal,” Quinn whispered against her lips, pulling her close once again.

#rowan’s end of summer celly!!#quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes imagine

388 notes · View notes

dragon-kazansky · 5 months ago

Text

The song in our hearts

Lestat De Lioncourt x Female Reader

A musician with a heart that sings and an admirer who wishes to see his songbird thrive. Two beings in different worlds get caught up in each other when someone threatens to steal his songbird's spotlight. Loving Lestat isn't simple, and your life will never be the same again. What is eternity without chaos?

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Chapter Five - Dark truths

You didn't sleep at all that night. You didn't leave the house all day either. You didn't even answer the door when Amelie and Jack came over to see how you were.

They knew Noah was missing. They didn't know he was dead.

When Friday came around and no one had seen you, Jack came to the house again. He pleaded with you to come and tell him what had happened. He asked where Noah was, but you didn't answer him. You didn't come out at all.

That night the show went on without you.

Lestat had been sitting in his box waiting for you to come on, but when the piano never got wheeled onto the stage, he knew he had messed up. Revealing to you what he was like that had not been what he wanted. He should have been more careful, but Noah was angering him. That meaningless man ruined your performance.

Lestat couldn't take it any more. With Noah gone you would be able to shine. Lestat would have done things differently. You were different.

The vampire didn't stick around to watch the end of the show. Your usual slot came and went and he knew you weren't going to perform tonight.

He went to your home.

I'm outside, Chéri.

Nothing.

Please let me in.

Lestat knew you were inside and he longed to see you. He wanted to hear your voice and see your face. He wanted to reach out and hold you to him. He wanted to explain things properly.

You refused to come outside.

His voice was in your head and it was pricing you crazy. How can his voice be in your head like that? Was he really a monster or were you too freaked out and messed up to comprehend anything?

You were afraid.

I know you can hear me. You have no reason to fear me. Harming you is the last thing I could ever want.

You don't believe him. He knows it too.

Lestat looks up at your window with longing. He yearns for you. He needs you. He wants you.

Please.

The door opens. Lestat finds himself looking at you. You're a disheveled mess and he can see the fear in your eyes. He doesn't move.

“I am sorry you found out the way you did.”

“What do you mean…?” You ask cautiously.

“Me being a vampire.”

You shake your head quickly. “Vampires aren't real.”

“Oh, but we are.” He smiles at you.

You stare at him in disbelief. Was this man crazy? Oh no… you had been to his house! The house of a crazy person!

Lestat can hear your internal struggle and shakes his head. He steps a little closer. “Listen, Chéri, I am real. I am here. I want you.”

“Why? Why me?” You want to hide back inside your house, but you also want answers.

“You are… everything.”

You don't know what he means by that. Nothing is making sense to you. You can't help feeling like he's dangerous.

“I am dangerous.”

“Stop doing that! Stop… reading my mind!”

Lestat chuckles softly. “From the moment I first heard you play I knew I had to have you. You, Chéri, are everything and more. Talent like yours is hard to find in this world. It also helps you're the most beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes upon… Well, second to myself.” He winks at you.

He's trying to calm you down. You can tell he's telling the truth. Though you're not sure how much you can trust him.

“Do you not want a taste? To walk alongside the unknown?” He is feeding into your curiosity, luring you in.

You squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head. “How do I know you won't just kill me like you did to Noah?”

“That useless man had it coming. He was abusing your talents with his awful voice. He wanted to use you for his own gain in the hope of using your popularity at the theater to get famous. Well, anyone who truly approaches music would know he had no talent whatsoever.” Lestat scoffs.

“He really is dead…?”

“Oui.”

You let out a shaky breath. “Oh God. Oh God! What do I tell Jack?” You pull at your hair.

“Tell him nothing,” Lestat says, coming a little closer to your door. “Noah has left the country as far as anyone is concerned. He had no relatives here, no actual influence on anyone. He's gone. Let me help you soar.”

You look into his eyes. He's looking at you tenderly. You want to believe he's being genuine, but is he?

“I wrote you a song…” Is what you say.

Lestat stares at you in mild confusion and surprise. “You wrote me a song?”

“I did… I was inspired after my visit to your home… and I couldn't shake you from my head.”

He grins. “Is that so?”

You nod. “You… You're like a headache I can't shift. Even when I put you out of my mind, you return later. Your name is always on the end of my tongue. I look for you every Friday night in your box. I sit at my piano and I hope with all my might that my music is enough for you. Why do I care so much about what you think?”

Lestat smiles. “Perhaps because you know I appreciate your art.”

You look at him in wonder. “Is that the case? Or are you just saying that to make me trust you?”

He sighs. “You're making this very difficult.”

“You killed Noah!” You say a little too loudly.

Lestat covers your mouth with his hand. You groan and bite his fingers. He removes his hand and grins. “If you're into biting, I can help.”

You worry if you roll your eyes too hard they'll fall out the sockets. “I need time…”

Lestat lifts his chin up a little bit. “Very well. Time.” He steps away from your door. “But please don't take too long.” He walks away.

Once he's out of sight you close your door and lean against it.

The next Friday you return to the theater and try to ignore the stares from other performers. However, Amelie and Jack could not be ignored. You would have to face them, which was why you had come up with a story. A lie. Lying to the two people who looked after you all these years felt so wrong, but telling the truth would be worse.

They cornered you in your dressing room. Jack had a whole speech for you, telling you he was so worried and he didn't know if he needed ro contact a doctor for you. You let him speak before deciding to tell them the story you had come up with.

“Noah is gone. He left. We had a huge fight and it got out of control.”

“Did he hurt you?” Amelie asks, coming to sit beside you.

“No. Not physically anyway. Just my pride,” you assure her. There was some truth to that at least.

“Why didn't you say anything?” Jack asks, looking at you like a wounded puppy.

“It was my mess. I didn't want everyone to get involved. Noah was using me for his own advantage and I had had enough. I play solo, Jack. No more duets.” You look at him firmly.

“Understood.”

“I was so worried about you! You wouldn't even answer the door…” Amelie looks at you sadly.

“I'm sorry… I just had a lot to deal with.” You give her a hug.

Jack sighs and looks at you fondly. “I should have been more firm with him. Your sponsor hasn't made a donation since…”

“No. I suppose he hasn't. Is my slot still open?” You ask.

“Of course it is!” He assures you.

You smile. “Then I'll be back to playing for you. Tonight too soon?”

“Not at all.”

With all that out of the way the two leave you alone to get ready. You sigh deeply and prepare to face the music once more.

Lestat didn't appear in his box that night. Nor the Friday after, or the one after that. In fact, for the next 2 months he did not appear inside the theater. He did, however, send donations to Jack. He stopped sending gifts to your dressing room too.

Still, you couldn't shake him from your brain.

As you went into month 3 without seeing him or hearing from him, you had begun to miss him. If Lestat had wanted to harm you, surely he would have done so by now. He has plenty of chances to.

You decided to write him a small letter. You had it delivered to his house, not feeling brave enough to go there yourself.

You had chosen to forgive him.

Come to the theater Friday night. Your box is waiting for you.

It was all you could think to do to get him to return to you. As you stood off to the side of the stage waiting for your turn, you felt terribly nervous. You almost felt like you were struggling to breathe. You had sent Amelie out to check the boxes. She seemed to be taking her time.

You had moments to go before it was your turn. Amelie appeared beside you. “What took you so long?”

“Mr De Lioncourt invited me to talk to him. He asked me to give you this.” She holds up the rose. You stare at it, mesmerized by the deep red color of its petals. You take it from her gently.

“This is for me?”

She nods. “He told me he was happy you had asked him to come back. Did you two fight too?”

“Sort of…” You reply softly, still looking at the rose.

“Well, he's glad to hear you perform again.”

“Good. Tonight is going to be special.”

Amelie wasn't sure why it would be special, but she was just happy to see you back where you belong.

Your name is called. You take a deep breath and walk out onto the stage, rose in hand. You lift your head up, but ignore the audience. Your eyes drift up to his box. Lestat is sitting there, smiling at you.

You're wearing the necklace he gave you months ago. You're clutching the rose in your hand. You're looking at him.

Lestat knows you've forgiven him.

You take a seat at your piano and place the rose down where normally the music sheets would go, but you don't need them. You're only going to play one song tonight.

His song.

You begin. Lestat's ears are blessed with a melody new to him. An arrangement he has never heard before. He doesn't need to read your mind to know this is the song you wrote for him.

He's completely enamored with you.

There's a depth to your song. Without words he can understand what you're trying to say. He knows why you wrote this piece.

You felt something that night.

Perhaps the same thing he felt for you.

He wouldn't deny it.

The music ends too soon for his liking. He watches you with keen eyes as you take a bow and exit the stage. He didn't want your music to end. Lestat rose from his seat and left the box. He had to see you.

Jack wanted to question why you only played one song, but you didn't give him time to even get the question out. You went to your dressing room and waited.

The door opened moments later. You stood from your dressing table and watched Lestat approach you. He closed the door behind him, keeping out the outside world.

“That song…” He started. “Was it for me?”

“Yes. Did you like it?”

Lestat smiled as he slowly closed the distance between you both. You felt like your breathing was too loud, that he could probably hear your heart beating too.

I can.

“How do you do that?”

“Do what?” He asks, grinning.

“Get in my head.”

He chuckles. “It's one of the many things I can show you.” He holds out his hand to you. It's an invitation into his life. An invitation into the night.

You take his hand.

Lestat smiles and pulls you in close. “do you trust me?”

“We'll see.”

For now, that's enough for him.

@awanderingghost @theprettiesthead @cosmixstar @theblueslytherin @katherine2098 @sawendel @floofdeloop @sitkafay @bigbaddie45 @bluscryn

@secretisme4

#the song in our hearts #lestat de lioncourt x reader #lestat de lioncourt #interview with the vampire #iwtv #dragon's lair

171 notes · View notes

bloom-into-blue · 6 months ago

Text

𝕊𝕡𝕚𝕔𝕖 𝕌𝕡 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝔹𝕖𝕒𝕥

summary: your girlfriend's performing tonight with her band, and you're more than excited to see zoya in action! what kind of action you'll actually get, however, is something else entirely.

contents: drummer!zoya x fem!reader, established relationship, reader wears a skirt and makeup, fing.ering, some light degradation, some spanking (all of these reader receiving), cunn.ilingus (zoya receiving), a hint of body worship (zoya receiving).

word count: 3.3k

author's note: zoya being a drummer in official material just made things easier because funny story, this is based very loosely on real events. i was at a battle of bands once and met a really hot drummer, complimented her playing and she hugged me. i later got shoved into a wall when a metal band began playing and the front of the crowd became a mosh pit.

you feel so out of place here.

zoya’s band is performing tonight at a bar, and obviously, any self-respecting girlfriend would go to their girlfriend's concert, right? it's only natural! you've even gone as far as to make a banner in dark cloth with bai yi’s, eleven’s, serpent’s and zoya's names spray-painted on it, though anyone can tell there's favoritism when zoya's name is bigger than the others and there's messy hearts around it. whatever, you're happy to show support for the band, but you're also very much devoted to your pookie (that absolutely loathes being called pookie, hence why you do it).

…all that said though, you're still by yourself in the crowd in a place you're not used to, dressed in a relatively short skirt and a blouse that leaves your shoulders exposed. it was supposed to be something to tease zoya, get her to smirk and say, “oh, you just couldn't wait ‘til we got back home?”

now though, there's a breeze that makes you shiver and you're attracting less desirable attention. now there's less excitement and more desire for zoya to just whisk you away. all this skin you're showing is meant for zoya and zoya alone!

it seems like whatever god is out there is rather merciful though, because suddenly there's a hand that grips your wrist and pulls you away. at first you turn around in shock, already on edge, before you recognize your girlfriend's tall form and her silky, silver hair. just like that, you're smiling eagerly while you let zoya guide you to the backstage section only musicians are allowed.

the second you're behind the stage, zoya's glaring at you with furrowed brows. “c'mon princess, you should've texted me. it's obvious from miles away that you're uncomfortable,” she scolds while still gripping onto your wrist, her touch a bit more gentle now that it's just the two of you.

“s-sorry, i didn't know if you'd be able to answer,” you try to explain, suddenly feeling sheepish before her.

despite still being somewhat worried about you though, zoya sighs softly before a bright grin rises to her face, and suddenly her hands dart behind your thighs and she lifts you up like you weight nothing, which prompts you to let out a shocked little squeal. “z-zoya!” you exclaim, clearly flustered.

“what? i'm just happy to see my girl here, cheering for me!” she counters eagerly, and suddenly you're reminded of why you spent so much time working on that banner and wanted to remain in the crowd: so zoya could see it and see that cocky yet thrilled expression of hers.

the way she smiles is too much for you, and with a fond grin, you lean down while she's still lifting you up with those strong hands, then kiss zoya's lips so tenderly you'd think she's made of porcelain. of course, zoya's happy to kiss back, though she keeps it chaste because god knows she won't be letting you go if you deepen the kiss even a tiny bit.

“gonna be cheering for me in the crowd?” zoya whispers against your lips and you just know her lipstick left marks over your own. “or do you wanna stay near the stage? we can be even closer that way.”

“won't you get in trouble for sneaking me backstage though?”

“eh, who cares. i'm not letting my girl stay where she doesn't wanna.” as she speaks, one of her thumbs gently strokes the spot where your thigh meets your ass, and while normally that would drive you crazy, all it does is melt your heart.

“hm… if you're sure, babe. i'd rather stay near the stage.”

“consider it done.”

you kiss her on the cheek, both to show her your appreciation and to leave a mark of your own on zoya. “you're a darling.”

behind the two of you the unmistakable noise of bai yi fake gagging can be heard while eleven tells her off with a little laugh, meanwhile serpent signals that their band is up now. zoya pouts at being called away, though she goes right back to grinning at you with that usual, wolfish smirk of hers. she gives your ass a gentle pat, something that makes your cheeks burn, then sets you back down down and adjusts her own clothes.

“wish me luck, doll.”

as she leaves, you throw her a kiss silently, then smile brightly when she catches it and kisses her hand in response, walking backwards so her blue eyes stay glued to yours until she's properly on stage.

gah, you love her to bits.

“now, this group's a bit of a newer integration, but you may have heard of ‘em, so give it up for… path to nowhere!” the announcer shouts into a microphone before handing it to serpent, and the crowd goes wild while she sets it up on a stand.

instead of wasting any time, all that sounds is zoya slamming her drumsticks together as she shouts, “one, two, three, four!”

the crowd's already lively and raring even though less than a minute has gone by, aided by the punk sound of your girlfriend's band, to the point where they're already moshing with serpent’s voice as their background, and suddenly you're glad zoya read your comfort levels and pulled you to a more secluded area where you can hear them play just fine. it allows your focus to go entirely towards your girlfriend.

specifically, you can see the way zoya's jacket doesn't quite cover her tattoed shoulders and biceps, how she's already somewhat transpired as she grins from how excited everyone is. each hit she gives her drums resounds and vibrates across the place, you can quite literally feel the beat through your entire body as it reaches your heart, and yet it's still little compared to the way it throbs every time zoya glances your way between each roll against her snare drum.

she sends a wink your way once the first song is over, and you happily lift the banner for her to see, something that makes zoya laugh upon seeing her name dwarf the others. you're the only one who knows why zoya's laughing.

it's nice, the little things like that between you and your girlfriend.

before you know it, zoya's band is done and the next band is up, though you keep the handmade banner held up high when zoya and the others meet you back beside the stage.

you hear bai yi asking if they blew your mind, eleven thanking you for the banner, serpent eagerly running to hug you as thanks for the support.

they're all a bit too late for you to process them though, because zoya's arms are wrapped around your form in a tight embrace and obviously, ever the loving girlfriend, you wrap your arms around her all the same. she's warm, a tad sweaty and her breathing’s a bit labored from getting too into her playing, and you still find zoya to be the hottest woman to ever step foot on this planet. hell, her panting might be turning you on.

she surprises you by leaning in and whispering into your ear, “let's get out of here already, yeah? i don't have to stay here anymore and honestly, i need to fucking ravage you.”

your eyes immediately go wide and you pull away to stare at her like a deer in the headlights, yet zoya's smirking at you and staring right back like she didn't just threaten you with a good time, as surprised as you were. “got all worked up?” you whisper with a little smile, letting your hands rest on the slight curve of her hip while hers are far more adventurous.

“of course i fuckin’ did. did you forget what you're wearing or somethin’?” zoya grumbles back, and for a moment you had, you had genuinely forgotten you wanted to get a rise out of her with this short skirt that barely even reaches the middle of your thigh. still, her hands moving to hold your hips are a wonderful reminder of one of your main goals tonight.

“what about the rest of the bands though? i even made this-”

“come to my place and hang it above my bed.”

you find it hard to object to zoya's solid argument.

amongst the band’s objections and curious questions, zoya simply leads you away and out of the bar, the two of you giggling like you're drunk despite having drunk no alcohol at all, simply because zoya makes you feel giddy and she enjoys teasing you about it.

the two of you call an uber to go to zoya's apartment, but the second you're inside, your girlfriend decides she's done holding back. the second she's done giving her direction and without a care or worry, zoya crashes her lips into yours and her hands travel down your thighs to dig her fingers into the flesh there. you let out a muffled gasp against her eager mouth, happy to part your lips so zoya can push her tongue inside and claim you like she obviously wants to. her hands go further under your skirt now, groping at the round flesh of your ass, and zoya just about growls against your lips. you don't realize it, but this woman's been thinking about pulling you into a corner and pushing at least two fingers inside you the second she saw you in the crowd of that bar.

the car door presses against your back uncomfortably though, distracting you from zoya's eager hands, and so it's a blessing when the uber driver awkwardly announces that you've arrived at your destination.

zoya simply shoves some cash at him and barks for him to keep the change before eagerly unlocking the door behind you and lifting you like she had done before, something that once more prompts a shocked gasp out of you. she carries you while leaving hungry, almost clumsy kisses across your neck and jawline, to the point where you have to be on the lookout to avoid bumping into anything while zoya leaves her lipstick all across your shoulders.

the heat of the moment doesn't die down when you finally reach the door to zoya's apartment, where she finally lets you down to reluctantly open it as fast as humanly possible. in the blink of an eye, you drag her into the apartment and she matches your energy, instantly closing the door behind you and pushing you against the hard surface.

“you think you're so clever,” she grunts before pausing to nibble and suck right onto your pulse point and leaving a dark hickey there. “thought i’d pounce you the second i saw you.”

you would've been right, but she's never going to say that part out loud.

“you're mine, doll. if anyone's gonna see all this skin, they better know i'm the one that's got you covered in marks.”

“i-i’m all yours,” is all you can whine under your breath, already feeling like your mind is entirely blank even though all zoya's done is kiss and grope you. it's just that easy for her to turn your body into her plaything.

“atta girl. all mine,” zoya praises with a smug smirk before she pulls off her jacket and unbuckles her belt a second later. your eyes brighten up like you're seeing a christmas present, and it's almost second nature to fall onto your knees before your girlfriend, something that makes her chuckle. “eager, aren't you? that's a good slut.”

you don't answer zoya aloud, but instead lean forward to press sloppy kisses over her abs, and the sigh she lets out when she takes in the sight makes you clench your thighs. you continue to press your lips against her taut skin, covering her in messy lipstick marks while making your way down her navel. a silent glance upward, a request for permission to continue, and zoya bites her lip while tangling her fingers across your hair. “show me what that tongue can do,” she doesn't say, but commands.

eager, you pull her pants and boxers down until her cunt is exposed, because you know she likes fucking you while clothed, and you dive to drive your tongue between her drenched lips like a starved man. “fuck, that's it,” you hear her grunt while giving her clit a few licks for good measure, then press your mouth against the edge of her entrance, collecting all the slick zoya's making just because of you, and that thought alone drives you crazy.

you don't get to bask in that thought for long though.

zoya's grip on your hair tightens a second later, and you whimper before leaving your tongue flat, knowing that's just a warning before she's rutting against your tongue and guiding you by your hair into whatever side she so desires. “good god, such a pretty mouth,” she grumbles between labored breaths, and you're more than happy to let her use your tongue to her heart's content. her clit keeps brushing against you, bringing out grunts and groans out of zoya like she's losing her grip on reality. between the way she looks down at you like she owns you, eyes clouded from the pleasure, makes you clench your thighs while your cunt squeezes around nothing.

“gonna cum soon. you better be a good little whore and take it all,” she grunts while still riding your mouth, pushing down against her entrance. you moan against her and push your tongue inside while nosing her clit to try and make her reach her peak. obviously, you're more than happy to comply with her request.

the second zoya creams into your mouth, it's hard to not let out a pleased moan, for you love the way she tastes against you. she trembles above you with a loud groan, her grip tight and borderline desperate on your hair, though that simply makes you moan louder into her drenched folds.

when she's done though, her grip loosens, and you see the softness in her gaze when those lovely blue eyes look down at you. “good girl,” she whispers while gently stroking your hair with a shaky hand.

you pull away from her, smiling brightly at zoya. “i live to serve,” you murmur softly, something that brings a chuckle out of her.

“alright now, i'm pretty sure i've got a promise to keep,” zoya says before taking you by the wrists and pushing your front against the nearest wall, her chest pressed against your back as she holds you there.

“z-zoya,” you gasp out, only to let out a breathless sigh when your girlfriend's hands start to travel across your body in ways she couldn't allow before. one of zoya's hands goes up your blouse and under your bra to toy with your breast and pinch the nipple, something that brings little moans out of you, much to her delight. the other hand meanwhile lifts your skirt from behind and two of her fingers instantly start brushing against your clothed cunt, the fabric already ruined from how turned on you are from eating her out.

“all this for me?” zoya rasps into your ear and smirks to herself when all you let out in response is a needy whine. between her hand playing with your tits and the fingers that don't quite go inside you, she's making every fiber of your being ache to just let her claim you already.

suddenly though, the hand playing with your chest darts away, and before you can ask zoya what’s wrong, she brings it down onto your ass cheek with a loud smack. instantly, you cry out at the sensation, caught off-guard… though you arch your back a bit a mere moment later, allowing zoya full access to your body.

“you don't get to tease me, dressing up like this for one of my shows,” she scolds before giving your ass another smack; the skin is already turning red. “you've got no idea what it was like, seeing you like this and having to hold back just ‘cause i've got a show.”

“i-i’m sorry-” you begin with a shaky voice, only for your words to morph into a sharp moan as she smacks your other ass cheek with the hand that was teasing your drenched in your own slick.

“i'll make you understand what will happen if you dress like this again.”

christ, this just makes you want to do it again as soon as possible.

zoya then pulls your soaked underwear out of the way until your panties fall to your ankles, and without waiting for a single instant, pushes three whole fingers into you while still sporting that smug smirk of hers, which only widens at the loud moan she drags out of you. “just like that, yeah. keep making noises like that while i'm the one that fucks you.”

you obey without complaints, something she makes not just easy but inevitable. zoya's fingers fill you up as she pumps into you at an already unbearable pace. the way she pants and growls into your ear only makes you clench around her fingers more, which makes her chuckle lowly against you and in return your cunt flutters around her, trapping you in an endless cycle. her fingers move in and out, already accustomed to your walls like it's her second nature, and it only takes her a moment before her fingers curl up against your g-spot and ram into it like she's trying to bully it.

“zoya, fuck, p-please,” you gasp between wanton moans, focusing on the way her body presses against yours while her fingers go in and out of you.

zoya laughs, though the sound is eclipsed by the wet noises coming from below and the moans coming from above. “please what, babe? c'mon, you're a big girl, so use your words.”

it's hard to speak at all right now, but somehow you manage. “c-close. please lemme cum,” you plead, then squeeze your eyes shut to focus on the pleasure she makes you drown in.

“just like that, yeah. that's my slut,” she says as her free hand darts to your front and starts rubbing your clit with two fingers. instantly, your eyes go wide and the volume of your moans grows, feeling breathless under the assault of her fingers that fuck you from all possible angles. you can't think, you can barely even see beyond the stars she brings to your vision, yet zoya remains relentless as she fingers you.

the only warning you give her is a sharp gasp before you cry out and let your head fall forward, a sudden stream of cum shooting out from between your legs that coats her hands and some of her floor as well.

“goddamn,” you hear her whisper in shock, awe and even pride, though it's almost impossible to think through your orgasm. she helps you ride your high while slowing the pace of her fingers, until she finally stops and slowly pulls away to hold you from behind in a tender hug.

“you were beautiful there, babe,” she whispers, gently pushing your hair away to leave gentle kisses at the back of your neck. this woman behaves like a beast more often than not, but zoya still treats you like fragile porcelain when she's done making you see white. it's something that only makes you love her more and more.

with tired breaths, you smile back and close your eyes, enjoying the way her lips feel against you. “you were awesome too,” you praise, “both here… and on the stage.”

the soft laugh she lets out against your skin makes goosebumps rise where she breathes. “damn right i was. i gotta be cool onstage when i know my girlfriend's watching.”

the next morning, when you wake up in your girlfriend's bed with your head tucked comfortably under her chin and soft snores coming from zoya, a glance upwards makes a wide grin rise to your face.

the banner you made for her and the rest of the band hangs there, above the bed, proudly.

#ptn x reader #ptn women x reader #path to nowhere #path to nowhere zoya #ptn zoya smut #ptn zoya x reader smut #zoya smut #path to nowhere smut

237 notes · View notes