#but it's what he gets until the shoes I ordered for him arrive

[soulhollow]

[mywritersmind]

NOT SO HAPPY HOLIDAYS - LN4

↳pt.1

christmas special

next part

summary : Spending Christmas with my brothers best friend isn’t my ideal way to celebrate. With my parents in the maldives and my ex calling me non stop, I was hoping for a small town cozy christmas! I was going to get that with Max and his girlfriend until Lando Norris worked his way into the mix.

listen up : suggestive comments! dual pov! swearing! hope you like this!! comment to be on tag list <3

words : 2638

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Persistent knocking at the door forces me to pull myself off my nicely made bed and slump down the stairs. Max, Piertra and I are staying in a cabin for Christmas because our parents have decided to go to the beach.

It’s rustic and smells like cinnamon everywhere, the roof dusted with the snowfall from the night before. I hurry down the stairs in my airplane outfit because I haven’t even had time to unpack.

As soon as I rest my hand on the cold door knob and open it to see who’s waiting, I regret it. “Merry Christmas!” A smiling Lando Norris stares back at me, bags in hand and snow on his curls.

I slam the door in his face. I should have looked through the peephole, maybe he would have given up. “Max!” I yell, hearing the pattering of his feet on the hard wood and his head peaking out his door. “There’s a thing at the door for you.”

His face breaks into a grin as he runs down. He all but pushes me out of the way to get to his best friend, opening the door and hugging him.

I roll my eyes and start to walk away but Lando’s voice rings out behind me, “Welcoming as always, sunshine.” That fucking nickname makes me turn, but I don’t give him the satisfaction of meeting my eyes.

“Max, I thought you said we ordered pizza, not your childhood best friend.” Max gives me a look which makes me cross my arms. He never understood my hatred for Lando, probably because he was the one pissing me off with him.

Yet I think he’s grateful that I stay as far away as possible. Still, Karma is real and Max’s nightmare is having his baby sister even close to his reckless friend, that’s why Lando takes every opportunity to flirt with me.

“Play nice, Y/n. It’s Christmas, you know, kindness and joy?” I narrow my eyes at Lando who steps inside and shakes off the snow on Max, “We’re spending this as a group! A group that loves each other!” My brother pushes him away, shutting the door to block the cold air.

Lando blows me a kiss as P comes around the corner, Max leaving Lando for his girlfriend, “Lando, you’re here!” the traitor says as Max hugs her from behind, “Come in! I’m making hot chocolate!”

⋆༺

Lando Norris and I have never been best friends. He saw me purely as his best friend's little sister and someone to annoy. I saw him as my brother's annoying friend who was constantly in my way.

Or I guess I should say ‘see’ instead of ‘saw’ because our childhood banter has continued through to adulthood. I can’t stand him, he’s cocky and annoying. I don’t know why he flirts with me, maybe it’s partly to annoy me and partly to get to my brother who yells at him anytime he so much as calls me pretty.

I like to think I'm more mature than my thirteen year old self who would scream at Lando for tying my shoes together, but as Lando makes an absurd amount of noise in the room adjacent to mine, I can’t help but slam my hand on our connecting doors.

We arrived at night so I was in bed quickly after dinner. I wish I was warm and cozy in my bed, but Lando blinks at me innocently after opening the door.

My eyes betray me when they leave his face and look at what he’s wearing. Or what he’s not wearing… Shirtless and in sweats, Lando looks all too smug.

“Can you shut up? I’m trying to sleep.”

“Can you stop checking me out? I’m on facetime.” He holds up his phone to show a dark screen, I can make out the sleepy face of Carlos Sainz. I push his phone back down, a bit embarrassed in my quadrant hoodie.

“Just keep it down, Norris. Can’t you and your boyfriend catch up later, like in daylight?”

That devious smirk makes its way back on his face, “Jealous, Sunshine?” That fucking nickname makes me roll my eyes, “I heard about the breakup… I feel horrible for him. Seemed like a nice guy.”

I grind my teeth together at the mention of my ex. How does he even know!? That was months ago. “Like you’re one to talk, losing the championship couldn’t have been good for your dick.”

His brow quirks at me playing back, “How often do you think about my dick, Sunshine?”

I put on my best sweet smile, my hand on the door, “When i’m in bed…” he leans closer, nodding, “Alone…” his brow raises and It makes my smile grow, “Getting sick at the idea and the alcohol in my system.”

His face drops as he stands straighter, “Why do you insist on lying to yourself? It’s not a good habit.”

“Why do you insist on being an asshole? Go to sleep.” I shut the door, giving him no choice but to back up quickly into his room.

“Sweet dreams, sunny!” He calls as I sigh and get back into bed, hoping for a good night's sleep and my headache to go away.

⋆༺

lando

Max makes me get up early so we can get breakfast before all the menus switch. I’m pushed out the door with Y/n by my side, her hair curled and looking far too put together for this early.

She has on jeans, a sweater, and a light blue puffer jacket over. Although she looks put together, I realize she’s just as tired as I am when I accidentally nudge her while walking to the car.

She pushes me back roughly as if it was my intent to touch her. Max and P are holding hands and walking ahead of us, so he doesn’t see his sister harassing me.

“Hey!” I’m lucky I didn’t slip because of my hands firmly in my jacket’s pockets. I feel like a marshmallow, I'm fully covered from a beanie on my head to seven layers and boots on my feet.

I go to push her back but the look she gives me reminds me that I know better. “What’s got you in such a good mood today, sunshine?”

She eyes me when I say the nickname I started calling her at fifteen. “I didn’t sleep.”

“I slept extremely well. Nice dreams too.” She rolls her eyes and opens the car door, the two of us sitting in the back while Max drives.

“I’m so happy for you.” She says, sarcasm dripping from her voice. She leans her head against the window, her breath showing on the glass.

“Wanna know what I dreamt about?” I smirk, clicking my seatbelt as she doesn’t move. “I’ll give you a hint.”

She looks at me, her cheek squished against the window that I know is freezing. “Would you like my foot up your ass?”

I ignore her, “You were there.” Max and P turn on the radio as we leave the driveway, speaking quickly about something and definitely not paying attention to us. “It was really hot… complete opposite of the snow. We had to strip.”

I’m leaning in closer, just in case. I don’t feel like getting my ass kicked by her brother today. “Sounds like it was a dream for a reason.” Y/n blinks, pulling my seatbelt back so it locks and I have no choice but to sit back in my seat.

God she’s hot.

⋆༺

We spend most of the day looking around the town, peeking into shops and going to the grocery store. We end up at a christmas tree farm about thirty minutes away from our house.

“I feel like I'm in a hallmark movie.” I think that should be a bad thing but they are my guilty pleasure. P and I wander down each row of trees, hot chocolate in hand and the boys arguing behind us.

“I’m so glad we’re here!” the blonde squeals next to me, “I know you don’t love Lando but he’s still fun. Plus no one should be alone on christmas!”

I raise a brow, “Why would he be alone?” I never really wondered why Lando was with us, but now I realize that it probably wasn’t just to fuck up my own holiday.

She shrugs and keeps looking for trees, talking about our plans to ski and snowboard tomorrow and yelling at Max to remember to find gingerbread houses.

“This one is perfect!” Lando runs up to the biggest tree in the lot, he looks extra small next to it.

“There’s no way we’re getting that in the house.” I say, crossing my arms and watching Lando shake his head vigorously.

One thing about Lando is that once he knows he wants something, he sets his mind to it in an almost urgent fashion.

“Have a little Christmas spirit, Sunshine.” he mumbles as he looks around the tree, then to a worker, “We’ll take it!”

“I’m not helping you two get that in the house.” P shakes her head as they start to drag the huge thing to the car.

As soon as they realize it won’t fit in our car, Lando pays a random man who has a truck to bring it to us. We’re back home soon after, Max going on about how he hopes our tree isn’t being stolen.

Our tree is thankfully not stolen and is outside our house when we get there. The man that helped us refuses the money and asks for a picture with Lando instead.

I’m very aware of Lando’s fame, but at moments like this, it’s still shocking. To me, he’s still the little shit who would beat me in karting and shove it in my face.

P and I sit on the couch eating cookies and making sure my phone is silenced while Lando and Max struggle with the tree for almost an hour. By the time it’s up, it’s dark and I'm hungry.

“I can’t reach!” I groan, standing on the side of the couch and trying to put ornaments higher up on the tree.

We’re a bit screwed considering the lot of us are quite short. I give up and just throw it up there, luckily it catches on a bit of green and stays there.

“Here.” Lando says to me, handing the star that we bought today at a local shop. “Try not to break it?”

I mimic him and stand on my tippy toes, trying to reach but being nowhere close. “Christ, Someone help her out.” Max cringes as he watches from his comfortable position on the couch.

I turn to him, “You could help, you know!”

P laughs, sucking on a candy cane and sorting through the decorations on the floor. I turn back to the tree and am taken severely off guard when Lando’s hands appear on my legs.

“Norris!” I scream as his head goes between my legs so I'm sitting on his shoulders. It’s an absolute ambush by a man in a too tight white shirt. “What are you doing!?” I grab onto his hair as he groans from me pulling it.

“It’s called a solution, Sunshine.” He stands up on the edge, wobbling a bit. I pull tighter but he retaliates by gripping my leg.

I roll my eyes and don’t dare look at P who I know has her phone out. Lando lifts me like it’s nothing, looking up at the top of the tree and seeing it far closer than it was.

I pop the star onto it and expect Lando to put me down but he just hops off the couch, “Norris, I swear-”

Max has a smile so big that my heart immediately starts beating faster. I can’t see Lando’s face but I know he’s smirking. “Don’t swear, it’s bad manners.”

“Right, cause you’re a great example of good manners.” I tug on his hair again and make him look up at me, he stops on the way to the front door. “Put me down.”

“Ask nicely.” Even from upside down he's hot. I let go of his hair but don’t accept defeat.

“Max, help!” I kick my feet against Lando as he opens the door, “Pietra!?”

I can’t see anything but the front yard, covered in snow. I’m freezing as soon as he steps out and I star fighting harder when I realize why Max is laughing so hard.

That’s when I start screaming. Our neighbors would probably think someone’s being murdered but this house is in the middle of nowhere!

“Norris! I’ll kill you!” I’m trying to get off but he’s just too damn strong, “Lando!” And then I go face first into four feet of soft snow.

I’m practically wrestling him by the time I get up, “I slipped! I slipped!” He yells as I shove his face into the snow. “Uncle!”

I’m laughing now, his face white and hair covered in snow, “Stop trying to murder my friend!” Max watches from the door, popping chips into his mouth as he lets us go at it.

I throw a snowball at my brother.

Lando takes my distracted position and throws a handful of snow in my mouth. I start coughing and slapping every part of him that I can. “Come back inside! You both are gonna get hypothermia.” P says from the door, wrapped in a blanket.

Lando stands up first, holding a hand out to me, a smirk on his face. I don’t take his hand, standing up on my own and pushing past him to walk inside.

Max messes with my hair as Lando shakes the snow from his curls on my brother like a dog. “Movie time!” P claps her hands together, “The grinch or elf?”

I groan, brushing my hands through my hair as Lando leans against the kitchen table, his arms flexing under the pressure and thoroughly distracting me.

“I hate elf.”

Lando’s jaw drops along with Max’s, “How can you hate elf!?” Max scoffs, “You are not my sister.”

“How can anybody hate elf!?” Lando shakes his head, “P, we’re watching elf.”

P laughs, “I’m a bit sick of the grinch, Y/n. Sorry.” Max puts his arm around P, shrugging and walking into the movie room.

Lando pushes off the table, swiping a blanket resting on a chair and handing it to me, “You look a bit pale, maybe you should warm up.”

I take the blanket, narrowing my eyes, “Is there going to be a sex joke after that?”

He puts his hand onto his chest, looking appalled, “I didn’t know you had such a dirty mind.”

I know he’s messing with me but I can’t help but play into it. “You don’t know a lot of things about me.”

“I’d like to know more. More that involves one of our rooms’ temperature going up and not because of the heater.” Cocky bastard.

I hum and start walking away, “Ah, there’s the sex joke.”

Lando follows behind me. I wish his mouth would stay shut but I know I'm not that lucky. “I know you’d like it.”

“You don’t know anything.”

He stops me before we get to the door where P and Max are behind. “Let me prove you wrong, then we’ll talk.” I knows he messing with me. I hate him for it.

He’s got that stupid smirk on his face, his eyes are soft, teasing, and darker in this light. His hands are in his pockets and that damn shirt is still tight against his biceps. Just because I hate him, doesn’t mean I can’t find him attractive.

I let out a breath, eyeing him one last time before pushing the door open, “Stick to me in your dreams, Lan.”

[bunny-jpeg]

can I please order a fudge.. sticky toffee pudding.. with a coffee.. a hard lemonade.. and a root beer

luv ur writing 🫶

bakery menu!

want to submit your own orders? then hit up the menu! thank you to all of those who had submitted, i hope this one is just as good as the others! thank you and enjoy!! there is so much going on with these prompts and i love it!! you said i could choose between max or lewis and i chose max!

fudge ("your father is pissing me off.") + sticky toffee pudding ("the only way this is ending is you getting pregnant.") + coffee (rivals) + hard lemonade (possessive behaviour) + root beer (filming/recording) served by max verstappen

cw: smut/pwp, rivals au, driver!reader, wolff!daugther, breeding kink (slight), possessive behavior, non consensual filming, rough sex, doggy style, secret relationship

another email from toto wolff, another request for some of his time to entice the driver towards coming to mercedes. max knew what it was going to entail. toto wolff wanted the champion on his team, and was rather comfortable sending many emails and discussing the possibility with the press.

"your father is pissing me off." max said almost casually at the paddock, but there was an edge to his tone. his arms crossed with annoyance across his face.

you shrugged, "not my problem what my father does. i'd suggest just keep declining him until he gets the message." max's large hand was still on your thigh, "max."

he gripped tighter, "i thought you didn't care about your old man." call it rivals, call it lovers. they were two sides of the same coin. both fueled by passion. except instead of your exchanging blows, you usually ended up blowing max.

"what about the others?" you asked.

he shrugged, "what about them? fia is already giving me community service. what more could they do?' and while no one was watching, max leaned in to kiss you on the lips. his hand on you tightly as he gave you his room number.

it was a common affair. so after free practice, you went to his hotel room. you gave some excuse to your father who had a habit of lingering like a storm cloud around you while you raced. max's hands on your hips after you arrived to the room eased you. max was like a storm cloud in his own way, but it was the kind of storm you needed.

soon max's hands were on your breasts, he kneaded them with affection with his lips at your neck. he said, "i'm afraid if i said you did a good job today, that'll on create problems."

"what my ego will get as big as yours?"

max chuckled, "no as big as your father's. i hope you know, the only way this is ending is you getting pregnant."

you looked at him and said, "that's a shit joke, max. don't joke about getting me pregnant."

he pulled you closer to him, "why not? you'd make a perfect mother. make the future champion. that would drive your father crazy. the wolff name replaced with verstappen." he pressed his clothed cock up against you.

you whimpered against his touch, almost melted at the feeling. something sick inside of you curled at the notion. to be married and have a family with max. you knew it would drive your father nuts. he wanted max on his team, not in his daughter.

"think about it. if it wasn't for racing, do you think this all would've been different?"

you looked at him, your hands in his shirt, "i don't think there is a universe where you're not racing." he pulled you closer to him by your ass. pressed further against him.

max remarked, "you and i in school together? i bet i'd get you knocked up by the end of first semester."

you kissed the corner of his mouth and replied, "you're insufferable." but still you kicked off your shoes and headed to the bedroom like you owned the place. with max close behind you. you could feel his gaze on your ass which prompted you to sway your hips from side to side.

max soon had you pinned on the bed from behind, your ass up against his clothed erection. his kisses on your neck were rapid and you felt the leap of your heartbeat in your throat. he undressed you quickly, there was little time he wanted to waste. you were thankful he didn't tear the clothes off of you.

"your father is pissing me off." max said.

you rolled with your eyes with a groan, "get in line, verstappen." his kisses left you breathless.

both of your clothes were on the floor, or on the edge of the bed. you pushed yourself further up onto the bed with your face in the pillows. at least you could get comfortable while max, the world champion, rearranged your organs.

there was little pleasantries as he sank his cock into your achy cunt. he watched your back arch with want. and it sent a thrill of excitement through him. oh, you were beautiful. that was one thing that max could give you credit for. you were beautiful when he took you apart sexually. your cunt made his brain flood with want as he started to move against you.

"shit." you groaned with heavy exhale. you could feel him deep inside of you. it was a good feeling. a little achy, but regardless you yearned for close intimacy with max. you wanted him dearly.

and he wanted you. it was a match made in heaven for the both of you. you'd happily meet in quiet hotel rooms and have the two of you tumble in the sheets till sunrise. you'd even let him take you out to dinner, even once he gave you the edge on the plan for red bull during that race.

being fucked on your knees allowed for the pleasure to move quickly through your body. you held a heavy want for pleasure as you gasped against the covers. your hands clutched onto the expensive sheets.

"fuck. max." you panted as he fucked you. your back arched a little as you felt the fuel in your belly. it all clouded your head. the intensity of everything. the raw passion and devotion that you held for max.

he pressed you further into the bed and picked up his pace. for a moment, he took his cock out of you just to the tip then slammed back into you which almost made you yell from the shiver of pleasure in your stomach.

it was aggressive and it was hot. if the press got wind of this, it would be the story of the decade. toto wolff's daughter in bed, in a relationship, with one of the top drivers of all time. it made you whimper a little. but the thoughts were soon driven away when he continued to hit right up against your sweet spot.

you were almost a puddle on the bed from the intensity that he fucked you with. it wasn't long before the urge to cum filled your body. the heat melted your brain as you gasped into the covers. the angle he fucked you with was perfect and rubbed against you just right. hard thrusts against your g-spot.

"i'm gonna cum!" you whimpered as your back arched once more.

"then cum for me." he said, his voice wavered as the pleasure climbed in his body. he was feeling it all too. and it made his heart jump with excitement.

you came with a moan and your tight cunt made max feel a certain heaven. they didn't call orgasm the little death for nothing. you both felt like you had died and gone to heaven. but max continued to work your body, feeling every last inch of you against him.

"i love you." you said, your mind blissed out.

he simply replied, "i love you too. more than you know." despite the lines in the sand about parentage and teams. max held fondness for you.

he quickly shoved every inch inside of you and finished. the feeling of climaxing inside of your cunt was always a treat. better than the condoms you often wrestled onto his achy cock. he wondered if you were still taking the pill.

not that max cared, let your father and the world find out that you were properly his. more than a rival, forever his lover. you two soon laid in post orgasmic bliss before you started to look for your clothes. the sweat cooled on your skin, but your hair was a mess.

and maybe max shouldn't have sent the photo to the team principal. maybe having a photo of a partially defiled daughter of toto wolff to begin with also wasn't a good idea. but when you went to get your clothes and max still in bed. he snapped a photo of you trying to find your shirt. you had your shorts and bra on, but the shirt was nowhere to be found.

max sent the photo to your dear old man with the message, "not even your daughter could convince me." then turned off his phone. the carnage would be dealt with later. for now he was going to shove your shirt further under the covers.

let you walk around in just your bra for a little longer

-

"there he is." max said as his hands snaked up your shirt, he could feel the slope in your belly, "is he causing you any problems?"

you looked over at max and said, "shouldn't you be with red bull?" you were dressed with the mercedes branded button up and pants that could fit over your pregnant belly.

you had to retire from racing after you found out you were pregnant. but, despite his initial anger, your father gave you a job assisting him. just because you couldn't race, didn't mean your talents had to be wasted.

the father of your child was max verstappen, the now four time world champion. and even though he wasn't racing with the team you worked for. he lingered around to see his wife.

max looked at toto from a short distance and smiled before he kissed your cheek, "wanted to see you before the race, wanted to make sure your old man wasn't asking too much of you. can't have you stress, good for the baby."

"everything is fine. if you want to be around here so badly, then get a contract." you said as you pushed away from your husband. but he only pulled you in to kiss him.

"no, i'm actually quite happy at red bull." then flashed toto a smile. toto wolff had in a way lost. he didn't nab a contract with max and the driver got you pregnant and married. it almost made the dutch driver prideful.

because that was one way to get toto wolff off of his case. <3

[lovifie]

Lift Me Off My Feet

Chapter 4: Midnight Snack

Masterlist

Original Thought - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12

3.5K words

Warning/Notes: Soap x Reader, oral sex (m receiving), hair pulling, messy make out

This is the video from where the photo is, if you haven't seen it, You have to and if you have already, you are welcome.

The drive back to base seems neverending. 

Once Price and Ghost managed to get you to stop crying and to breathe normally. The three of you pack the essentials, and by that, I mean you were hugged to Ghost like a koala while Price got what he could save from your house into a bag pack. 

Most of your clothes were ripped or cut, so in the end, only some pieces of underwear, a couple of shirts, some pants and the pyjamas you were wearing were safe. Plus your jacket and shoes that were behind the door. 

And that is how you found yourself now. Sobbing, sitting in the middle of the back seat, bag pack on your lap, Simon’s hand on your knee from the passenger seat as Price drives.

“Tomorrow morning, you are going to call your job, and tell them that you are going to take a couple of days off, okay?” Price asks looking at you through the rearview mirror. “And we will take everything you need, we will buy clothes, find you a better place to stay, anything you need.”

You shake your head feeling the tears come back and you hide your face behind your hands as you start to cry again. “I can't.” You cry. “What can't you do?” Simon asks turning his head to look at you.

“Miss more work days, I have already taken too many. I can't afford to lose more.” You mumble whining out of mental exhaustion.

“Hey, stop. Don't get carried away, alright?” Simon says rubbing your thigh. “Let's not think about that right now, tomorrow tell your boss the situation. Tell them that your house was broken into, that you need a couple of days to get everything in order. Depending on what your boss says, we'll work from there. Alright, birdie?”

You nod weakly as you focus on taking deep breaths. When you finally arrive, both men get out of the car and Price opens the door for you. You step out still holding your bag tight, either men try to take it from your hands and walk along between both men. 

Their hands find their way to your back, Price to the bottom and Simon to the top, reassuring shielding you from the chilly breeze of the night. 

“How about a cuppa?” Simon asks looking at you, a smile visible in his eyes, and you can't help it but to give him a weak smile back nodding. “Then, we will find you a room so you can sleep as much as you want.” 

Sleep does sound amazing, taking into consideration that last night you had little sleep and you have been on the move ever since. 

Price and Simon walk you to a lousy room, many recruits sitting together. The mess hall, you figure. In the middle of the room, there are a couple of sofas, and you quickly recognise Soap and Gaz, sprawled together in one of them looking at Gaz's phone. 

Most of the soldiers that are finishing their dinner, or just enjoying each other company before going to bed look up when they hear the door opening. Their gazes linger for a second too long on you until you can feel Ghost throwing them a warning sign in the form of a look and they peel their eyes away.

Gaz and Soap look up when they hear the door open, and just for a second, they smile at you before they furrow their browns when they see everyone's expression. 

“What happened? How come the wee lass so spooked?” Soap asks sitting straight and patting the seat between him and Kyle.

Price’s hand on your lower back softly pushes you forward to sit down before he answers: “She’s still a bit in shock, Soap. We’ll talk about it later.”

You sit down between Soap and Gaz, backpack still in your hands, and pull your knees up hugging your legs. Gaz points to your backpack and asks: “You sleeping over tonight? You should definitely sleep in Soap’s and my room. Ghost and Price have their own individual ones, but they snore.” He whispers the last part pulling a little smile from you.

You lean your head on Soap's shoulder when he lays his arm on the couch behind your back. The man is a living furnace and shortly after you find yourself seeking more contact.

Price sits on the second sofa in front of you and just a second later Ghost appears back, cup of tea on hand, as he gives it to you. You take it from his hands, yours still shaking just a little bit as you do, and you rest it on top of your knee for support.

Kyle's hand find its way to your other knee giving it a light squeeze. “How's your arm, luv?” You look at your elbow and shrug your shoulder. “I haven't even had time to check it, good I think, it hasn't bothered me.”

“You didn't get hurt today, did you?” Price asks focusing on your face after doing a quick check-up of you. You shake your head: “No, a headbutt on the ceiling if anything.”

Price nods, satisfied with your answer and shakes his head at the sergeant's questioning look. You look down to the tea, thoughts getting to you. You saw your neighbour get arrested, and if he had gotten free they would have told you. So it must have been someone who works for them, and if he wasn't arrested already is because they didn't really know who works for them. 

“What are you thinking about, birdie?” Ghost brings you back to reality with just a question. “Am I safe here?” You ask, with a shake in your voice. 

“Yes.” Price's answer is concise, full of trust in his own word, leaving no room for doubt. “As long as you are with us, nothing and nobody is getting to you.”

You look at his face, almost as if expecting him to burst laughing at you for trusting them. A voice in your head screams at you not to do it, you barely know them. But you thought you knew your neighbour and now he's trying to kill you, so. 

You nod and take a sip of the tea. Warming you inside and letting you relax just a bit. 

“How about a distraction?” Soap asks smiling at you. “Have we told ye aboot the time Gaz fell from a helo and was hangin’ from a rope like a yo-yo?”

“Fucking hell, Johnny. Shut up!” Gaz complains laughing next to you. 

The time went a bit more smoothly when Soap decided to talk about everyone's embarrassing stories, you could still tell he wasn't telling everything, keeping the classified information for himself, but still telling enough to have you laughing, gasping and asking with interest as he told.

By the time you finished your tea, you were already in a greater mood, the attack from today moved to the back of your head. Price lends you a hand to help you stand up while Ghost takes the empty cup from you. Gaz and Soap keep their word to share the room for the night against Price and Ghost's complaint that they should let you rest alone. Until the words “I don't really want to be alone.” leave your mouth and that's the end of the bickering. 

Soap and Gaz barracks are quite simple, two single beds against opposite walls, two desks, two little bookshelves and two closets. Almost as if there was a mirror in the middle of the room if it wasn't for the little trinkets and details on each side letting you know the right bed was Soap's and the one on the left was Gaz's. 

After a quick rock, paper, scissor championship, it is decided you will be sharing Soap's bed. And since you are already in your pyjamas, you get inside the bed quickly, ready to be done with the day. Soap lays behind you, hugging your middle and dropping a kiss to your temple. “Sleep tight, bonnie.”

A ray of light erupts from the bathroom door that is practically closed, almost as if whoever closed was afraid the click of the door closing would wake you up. At first, you don't think most of it, Soap must have gotten up to pee. But then you listen, and it doesn't sound like that's what he is doing in the bathroom.

Little grunts can be heard as well as the sound of skin hitting skin. You stand up from the bed, curiosity taking control of your body and walking you to peak at the door. You shouldn't, you really shouldn't. But once you lay your eyes on him, you know you are fucked. 

Soap is barechested, leaning against the sink with a hand supporting him while the other strokes his dick. He has his eyes closed, head low with his mouth open slightly, and small grunts and whines leave his lips. 

The grey sweatpants slightly lowered, allowing you to see the curve of his lower back as well as what you trust is the girthiest dick you have ever laid your eyes onto. The tip looks red, hungry for release, pearls of precum dripping from it making your mouth water. 

There is a turmoil of thoughts in your head, you keep repeating to yourself that you need to place some distance between yourself and these men. But the moment any of them show any skin or any emotion of want towards you, you throw yourself at them. 

Three times have you gone through this, your mind telling you is a bad idea and your pussy pushing you at their arms. This time is not different, and before you know it, you are inside the bathroom locking the door making Soap jump.

“Steamin’ jesus, bonnie.” He says shoving his dick inside his pants and turning his back at you to hide his tent. “Knock before entering, lass.”

“Sorry.” You mutter, not feeling sorry and you slowly walk to him. “I just wanted to help…”

“What? What you me-” He gets cut mid-question when he feels your hand grazing his tip, pressing your chest to his back and surrounding his waist with your arm. You use a hand to feel his abdomen and the other to softly caress the length of his dick inside his pants.

“But I can go back to bed if you don't want…” You say looking at the back of his head. “Don't you dare.” He answers grabbing your wrist when you try to take it back and he looks at you over his shoulder. 

“Ye dinnae have to do it if ye dinnae want… but if you want, I'll take anythin’ ye throw at me, bonnie.” He says turning around and cupping your face after lowering his pants again to free his erection. “I had to run to the bathroom cause ye were rubbing yer arse against me on yer sleep, I was about to explode.”

“Well then, I think it's only fair I fix it, right?” You ask looking at him cheekly. He leans down and kisses you smiling into the kiss. Little groans slide into your mouth as you stroke him and you can feel his hips thrust softly into your hand as well. 

For the last two days these men have only but given to you, and as much as you have enjoyed every single second of it, it is about time you give back. 

You pick Soap's hand from your cheek and push it up to your hair. “Make sure to keep my hair away from my face, all right?”

He looks at you confused but quickly gets the idea when you kneel before him. He quickly brushes your hair back with his finger, doing a ponytail at the back of your head and groans deeply when you give a kitty lick to his tip.

You pop his tip inside your mouth sucking softly as you circle it with your tongue. Stroke the rest with both your hands, unable to reach your thumb with your index because of the girth and slowly bobbing your head up and down.

Soap stays mumbling curse words under his breath, low enough to not be able to hear him and you wish you were not hiding in the bathroom and could hear him scream. You think back to when Price ate you out, did he get as turn-on satisfying you as you are getting doing it to Soap? 

He opens his eyes to lock into yours and you look up to him through your lashes as you start to get more inside your mouth. 

“Fokin’ hell, bonnie. Keep looking at me like that and I'm not gonna last a second.” He says struggling to keep his eyes open. 

You chuckle inside your head, and keep getting closer and closer to his hipbone. You must praise Soap's self-commitment to not cum, even though you can feel the grip on your hair getting tighter. When you feel his pubes brush against your nose you pull back taking a breath and look at him. When you lock eyes with each other, you smile and say before opening your mouth: “Fuck my throat, Johnny.”

For a second you get scared that Soap will just cum as you speak when you physically see the shudder that goes through him. But then he grips your hair back making you look up to him and he kisses your mouth in a sloppy kiss. Spit, drool and precum all mixing between your tongues and when he draws back to talk a threat of spit connect your lips. “You are going to fucking kill me, lass.” He mumbles and stands up to full height.

He doesn't let go of your hair and when you stick your tongue out he slaps it with his cock. “Gonna fuck yer throat raw, bonnie. Bite if it gets too much.” He smirks before shoving his dick down your throat in a single thrust and beginning to fulfil his word.

“Fuck, bonnie.” He says slurring his words between moans. “Taking my cock so well, such a good fucking lass, so, so good, fuck.” 

Your visions get blurry with the tears from fighting your gag reflex, your hands rest on Soap's thighs and you can feel them flex with each thrust. If it wasn't for your pants you know you would be literally dripping on the floor, never did you though it could turn you on this much. But seeing Soap becoming such a mess, not being even able to speak, just mumbles and curses leaving his mouth. 

“Let me cum inside, bonnie, please. I wanna see you drink it, please, please, bonnie, please.” He begs looking at your face with a pained expression, and almost as if he was waiting for your answer when you slightly nod he grunts and you feel his spent travel down your throat. He stays like that for another second and finally pulls out, you open your mouth showing him your work and he smiles as he bends down to kiss you again. “Fucking beautiful, love.”

The next morning you are woken up by an alarm and just a second later a door slamming shut. “I call dibs on the bathroom!” Kyle shouts making you jump.

You turn around on Soap's arms, nuzzling your face on his chest and sighing satisfied. “Eejit” Soap mumbles with his chin resting on top of your head.

“Do we have to share the bathroom the three of us?” You ask against his chest.

“Ye didnae seem to mind sharing it with me last night.” He mumbles back and you feel his chest tumble with a laugh.

“Aw, shut up, Johnny.” You say chuckling and yawning. “What time is it, anyway? I feel like I slept just two hours.”

“0540, not too far off to be honest.” He answers and when your half-sleep brain processes what time it is you look at him as if he has just insulted you. “What?”

“Why the fuck are we up before 6 in the morning? Like, seriously, the fuck?” You ask grumpy as you sit up pulling your legs over Soap's torso. He caresses one of your calves and flexes his arm resting his head on his hand. If you were not so bothered to be awakened so early, you would admire his physique. 

“This is the military, love.” He says smiling. “Ye look like an angry kitty.”

You pull the pillow from under his head and hit him with it making him laugh. “Do we need to be ready before six?”

“Yeah, actually, that's when we are supposed to have breakfast. We are meeting Lt. and Price there.” He says taking the pillow from his face. “Ye should get dressed.”

You groan standing up and picking your bag from the side of the bed. You pull your clothes out, and notice that you can barely form a full outfit; you sigh and sit on the floor looking at Soap who is now on his side, elbow on the bed and head resting on his hand. He looks at you with a confused expression and says: “That's all ye packed, lassie? I thought ye were staying more time.” 

He stands up, walks to his closet and picks something from inside just to throw it to your head. An uf sound leaves your throat and you pick it up to see it, it is a sweatshirt with MacTavish written on the back. “It is cold this early in the morning, we don't want ye freezing up. Get dressed.”

He bends down to drop a kiss on your lips leaving you a bit stunned and enters the bathroom without knocking making Gaz protest from the inside. “Stop screaming, it's me. I'm just giving the wee lass some privacy, Gaz.” 

You chuckle to yourself and quickly get dressed, putting on the only pair of jeans you have, and a weird t-shirt from some kind of ad you used to wear to sleep, feeling really grateful it is covered with Soap's sweatshirt.

“What are you doing here, luv?” Price asks standing up when he sees you enter the mess hall following Soap and Gaz. “Everything alright?”

The expression on your face must be portrait-worth because you can see even Simon's eyes twirl with a smile. 

“What do you mean what I'm doing here?” You ask looking at Price, until you hear a little snickering coming from both Gaz and Soap and you finally put two and two together. You turn to Soap and when you finally make eye contact with him, he burst out laughing.

“I'm sorry, bonnie. It was just too perfect of an opportunity to waste it.” He says raising his hand in false innocence. He tries to side-hug you, but you move quickly raising your chin offended and walking up to Price. “I'll fetch ye breakfast as a peace offering, all right, love?”

“That's the minimum you can do!” You exclaim still offended and stick your tongue out to him as you sit between where Ghost is sitting and where Price was sitting, him following you.

“Sorry about that, love.” Price says rubbing your tight. “I told them muppets to let you sleep in today. Did you at rest good?”

Gaz sits in front of you with a smirk, and you don't know if he knows, but you are sure that if he does he will snitch on you so stay on edge making sure not to break eye contact with him.

“Yeah, I did. The bed was surprisingly comforting, and Soap was a weighted blanket so.” You answer still looking at Gaz. You can feel Price's questioning look and Ghost's smirk.

“So Soap was comfortable?” Gaz asks smiling.

“Yeah, quite comfortable.” You answer.

He knows.

He fucking knows.

You don't know how, but he knows.

“Is that why you followed him to the bathroom when he went in the middle of the night?” He asks.

Fucking Garrick.

“I don't know what you are talking about.” You respond looking at your nails.

“I'm talking about when you into the bathroom and helped-”

CLANK

Soap puts the tray of food in front of you just in time, cutting Gaz's claim and starts to enunciate the food he bought. “I got ye coffee cause it's obvious yer not a morning person, I brought ye toast, some fruits and a little cereal cause I didn't really know what ye wanted. And I bought ye chocolate pudding.” He says putting the little cup on your hands, giving you a kiss on your head. “For sucking my dick so good last night.”

Gaz bursts out laughing, happy that he didn't even need to tell anything, while Ghost chuckles under his breath and Price sighs rubbing his forehead.

“I think there is a conversation that we definitely need to have.” Price announces. “For everyone's sake.”

Hiii 💗

Hope you liked the new chapter, please please drop a comment if you like it or if there is any scenarios you would like me to include 💗

Thank you again for all the support, you guys are the best

Taglist:@pagesfalling @thevoidwriting @darkangel4121 @tf141glory @skyler-loves-rick-grimes @ghostlythots @readerofallthingss @onewattson6529 @mynameismothra @xinyiline @shadowtfpcod @infpt-zylith @renabear88 @lolliepopsicle @reap3erslov3

[sashaisready]

Starting Over: Chapter 1.5 - Before

Mob!Bucky x Female Reader

Series Masterlist

When Bucky throws you out of the house for a betrayal and won't listen to your side of the story, you know the only way out is through - it's time to start over. Maybe this was never going to be your happy ending. (Standalone series - not related to any other of my stories/characters)

Hello! I know I said this would be a 2 part series but this part of chapter 2 felt like it's own section, so I've created a mini chapter to bridge the two parts and keep us fed - this is a flashback. Part 2 still to come! Thank you all for the love and engagement you've given this story, as always reblogs and comments are appreciated!

💔

Around 18 months earlier…

This was the shift from Hell.

You must’ve accidentally cursed yourself; it was the only explanation for the non-stop chaos the day had wrought. Apologies to any magical being you may have offended.

The kitchen were somehow out of both maple syrup and hash browns. Roscoe must’ve messed up the inventory order again. The customers affected by this egregious error were certainly making themselves known when you broke the news, while Roscoe sheepishly hid back at the grill. You understood their anger, what kind of diner doesn’t have hash browns or maple syrup?! Sure, you shared their pain – but throwing a spoon at your head seemed unnecessary.

The soda machine had leaked all over your arm an hour into your shift and you couldn’t shake the sticky, goopy feeling no matter how many times you had washed your hands. Your shoe broke, the sole flapping against the floor with every step. A table who had spent their entire two hours there demanding an array of elaborate substitutions and ‘softer napkins’ stiffed you on the tip, despite you bending over backwards to help them out. You found yourself counting the minutes until you could clock out, go back to your shoebox apartment, and bury yourself in bed. Not long to go.

“Hon’, sorry…” Lou called out to you, in that tone he always used when he was breaking bad news, “I know you’re swamped – but can you take care of the gentleman in the corner booth? Marcy just went on break and I gotta cover her other tables and whip that jack-off in the kitchen into shape…”

You sighed wearily, you were due to clock off soon and were closing out your section. But you took a deep breath and nodded over at him, “alright, Lou, but only cos it’s you…”

“Thank-you Hon’,” he beamed at you gratefully, disappearing into the kitchen to go yell at Roscoe.

You wandered over to the corner booth Lou had pointed to, swallowing your frustration and fatigue. There was a man sitting by himself, his face obscured by the menu he held up to read. His fingers curled over the sides of the paper, littered with gold rings and scars. One of his hands seemed to be…metal? A strange glove, perhaps? You could see from the sleeves alone that the dark suit he wore was expensive. Not to mention what appeared to be diamond encrusted cufflinks…

Huh. You at least hoped you’d get a good tip out of him.

“Good afternoon, Sir, I’ll be taking care of you today,” you said sunnily as you pulled your notepad and pen from your apron. “What can I get you started with? Some coffee maybe?”

The man didn’t move. The menu remained upright. He was so still it wasn’t almost eerie. You briefly had a crazy thought that he may have died and nobody had noticed, then dismissing your silliness as quickly as it arrived. Besides, dealing with a corpse in the diner was the last thing you needed today.

A few beats passed, but he still didn’t respond. You cleared your throat and tapped your foot to alert him to your presence. Still nothing. You frowned, maybe he didn’t hear you. Maybe he had airbuds in or something.

“Sir…? Would you like to order?” you asked again, your tone a little more strained this time.

Silence. But you saw one of his fingers twitch so you knew he was still alive, at least.

You were used to rude customers, the ones who were outright hostile towards you, and the ones who treated you as if you weren’t there. This was nothing new. But the stress of your shift with the combined fuckery of everything that had gone wrong meant you were hanging on by a thread. Your usual hardiness and thick skin were weakened, and your customer service mask slipped.

“Look buddy…it’s incredibly rude to just ignore your waitress you know…” you snarkily told the hovering menu, “are you gonna order or what?”

You realised what you’d said too late, clapping your hand over your mouth as an amused chuckle came from behind the menu shield. Just as you went to apologise, the paper dropped to the table, revealing the mystery man behind it.

You blinked, a little stunned at the sight of him.

His chestnut brown hair was slicked back into a perfect bun, complimenting the light dusting of stubble on his cut-glass jawline. Pouty pink lips curled into a smirk as his large, bulky frame manoeuvred in the booth to get a better look at you. But you were most struck by his eyes, so blue and piercing that you could drown in them. Better women than you probably had.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I-” you flustered.

“Don’t be,” replied the man commandingly, his voice low but soft, “you were right. That was rude of me, I’m very sorry. I was lost in my own world there for a moment. I hope you can accept my apology”.

You gawped at him, surprised at his reaction. You felt your face flush with embarrassment. “Uh…yeah. Sure. Sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped at you; it’s just been a long day…” you admitted sheepishly.

He nodded and studied you carefully, his gaze sweeping you from tip to toe. It felt exposing to be looked at like that, but you couldn’t deny the hint of a thrill it gave you too.

“Well, I’m sorry to have added to it,” he smiled at you.

And what a smile. A knee-weakening smile. All white teeth and warmth. And maybe something…darker?

“My name is Bucky. Bucky Barnes…” he extended a hand towards you to shake, his smile dangerous yet enticing, “Doll, I’d love to hear yours…”

💔

[lixies-favorite-cookie]

Pink lemonade

— Felix had always dreamed of the day he could finally gather enough courage to kiss you. Even in his wildest dreams, he never imagined it would be mid-sip of your pink lemonade.

@velvetmoonlght I'm so sorry this took so long to get out 😖 I tried to make it as amazing as possible but I kept finding faults in the telling and eventually just said fuck it and posted it soooo if this isn't particularly what you wanted feel free to let me know and ill try and redo it!!

xxoxo

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠・felix x best freind!reader

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞𝐬・fluff, a sprinkle of angst if you squint, best friends to lovers, first kiss, unrequited requited pining, one silly little old couple, request.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬・1.3k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬・literally nothing honestly

Felix is early.

Twenty minutes early to be exact, arriving on your front steps with a soft knock and a jingle of his car keys. He peaks his head into the sidelights, his freckled skin streaked by the incipient hues of the sunset he stood beside.

He flashes you a smile in greeting, and the one you return is sincere but muted, as if it pains you to move, to exist. You're sliding your shoes on when he lets himself in, announcing his presence with a palm clasping over your shoulder, drawing your tilted gaze up. There's a certain tightness to your lips, a labored rise and fall of your chest that lingers in his vision long after you slip into the leather seat, your head leaning against the car window, his worry trails him far into the arbitrary drive to nowhere.

"Which way?" he asks, laying a finger on his turn signal.

Slowly, weakly you manage to mutter "Left."

This is what you do when your hectic schedules have kept you apart for far too long: drive down random streets until the gas tank runs empty. You could end up anywhere—and maybe that was the thrill for you—but to Felix, it didn’t matter where the roads led; all that mattered was that you were there. And for him, that was enough.

"Bad day?" Felix finally asks, flicking his eyes to you.

"The worst," You return with a weak smile, lifting your head off the window.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No, not really"

And with that, the silence returned. Setting your cheek against the car door, you watched as the sun kissed the trees, its lips settling upon the horizon's line. Your mind was in a relentless state of chaos—so loud, so distracting—that you almost didn't notice the road becoming bumpy beneath you, violently rocking your seat back and forth. Felix pressed his palm onto the steering wheel, swerving onto a familiar dirt road, slightly your shoulders softened.

Many moons ago, during one of the same late-night drives, you stumbled upon this very cafe, stopping mid-conversation to sprint out of the car at the sight of the words "fresh pretzels" posted in bold letters at the front window. It was on that day you discovered Felix's left cheek twitched when he tasted something he enjoyed—and that you were completely, irrevocably in love with him.

Your heart does backflips when he jogs to your side of the vehicle, pulling open the door to guide you out. You don’t see how his cheeks warm when your pinkies interlock, footsteps in tandem as you stroll into the café. The lounge is deserted, save for a single old couple whose wrinkled hands hold each other's on the table beside the window, sipping a large coffee from two straws. It is so sickeningly sweet that you almost forget about your horrendous day. Felix traces your line of sight, chuckling when he realizes what has you getting so teary-eyed.

Felix bows when he reaches the counter, ordering two pretzels and one large pink lemonade with two straws. The barista nods before slipping her pen between the cuff of her ear and walking into the back room. No sooner does she waltz in than she is waltzing right back out, this time with her hands full of food. Felix thanks the woman before gently taking your snacks to the booth right across from the couple, who are currently too lost in each other’s eyes to acknowledge that you’ve sat down. You don’t know if you want to form heart pupils and collapse in a heap of “awws,” or cry and throw up—hey, maybe you could do all three.

Felix's grin is lopsided and silly as he punctures the lid with two straws, simultaneously sliding your pretzel across the table. You gladly take it, sinking your teeth into the soft bread with a delighted moan. It’s truly unbelievable how quickly your mood changes from wanting to jump out of the car going 100 miles on the interstate to wanting to hop up and start dancing. You don’t, obviously, but the excited jitters are still there.

"Oh my gosh, Felix, this is the best thing I've tasted in my entire life! I don't know how to thank you!" you squeal around the pretzel half-stuffed in your mouth.

He smiles, bowing his head to take a sip of the lemonade. It is only through the barrier of the straw that he doesn't blurt—A kiss would do—though as the fruity liquid splashes across his tongue, all he can say is,

"Holy shit, this is delicious!" Felix gasps, the straw falling from his mouth. "Here, try it!" He urges, shoving the cup in your face. You blink, swallowing the remainder of your food. It can't be that good. Your lips wrap around the straw, and oh my gosh, how the hell have you gone your entire life without ever trying this?!

"Holy crap, you are so right! This is incredible!!" You take a greedy gulp of the lemonade. "Ooooh, Lix, you're the best—"

Nothing could prepare him for what you said next.

"I could kiss you right now!!" In your peripheral vision, you notice Felix's lips separate, emitting a soft gasp. Confused, you lift your gaze, and it takes you exactly one blink's worth of time to understand his bewilderment.

Somewhere between pressing his mouth to his straw and the present moment, you have drifted dangerously close to him. Close enough that you can feel the heat of his lips, that you can watch the warmth rise to his freckled cheeks—so incredibly close that you’re mere breaths away from erasing the line between friendship completely.

His heartbeat lodges itself firmly in his throat, and his eyes go so wide that they're all you can see. Felix couldn't count how many restless nights he spent imagining this moment—I could kiss you right now—it replays in his head like a broken record, over and over and over, and you're just sitting there, looking so effortlessly breathtaking; and he can't take it—he just can't take it anymore.

Mid-sip of your pink lemonade, Felix does what he's spent years aching to do. With trembling hands, he cups your cheeks, and with the intensity of a starved, desperate man, he leans in—finally, finally pressing his lips to yours.

First, you gasp. Then, you melt—oh, how you melt, melt like the drops of water slipping down your cup of lemonade, melt like thawing snow. For a minute, as the world reduces to liquid in your vision, you feel yourself sliding in and out of time, but you seek out his forearms, then his biceps, and then you settle upon his cheeks. Felix kisses you like you were his only outlet to breathe—you were. You so, so were.

He planned on savoring your lips until the sun arose, until the owner kicked you out for inappropriate behavior. But instead of the disgruntled grumbles of an annoyed manager yanking him out of the moment, it was the sound of... clapping?

Puzzled, you pull away, much to Felix's dismay, and it takes you about three seconds to find the two pairs of hands loudly applauding was the old couple from earlier?! They wear matching toothless grins, giggling about "young love" and the reminiscence of when "they used to kiss like that in diners." Felix turns his head, eyes wide and awkward, catching yours; his cheeks are flushed red, lips rolled firmly in between his teeth. Despite the heat that flares up your neck, you laugh—laugh with so much lighthearted carelessness that your freedom feels alien even in your own ears. Felix blinks once, twice, before eventually giving in and laughing with you—laughing like nobody's watching.

Even with the old couple in the back, the staff staring at you like you’re insane, and your lone pretzel sitting cold and half-eaten in front of you, he still hooks his finger underneath your chin, drawing you impossibly closer. His smile curves against your lips as he presses them to yours again and again and again.

Lifetimes—that is how long he has spent longing for you; and as you share one final shuddering breath, he can't help but notice you taste like lemonade. It was then that he knew he would spend a million more loving you.

cookie owns this don't steal my stuff, please. thank you.

[zephyrspace]

queen of thine heart

riddle rosehearts / gn!reader

synopsis : they say the queen of hearts always had her loving husband rule alongside her. unfortunately for heartslabyul, their queen's king attends a different academy. but you know what they say, distance makes the heart grow fonder.

or ; in hearing your lover's recent overblot, you disregard the rules and infiltrate nrc to make sure your queen is alright, much to the surprise of the cards.

content : established relationship, implied childhood friends, rsa!reader, fluff, sprinkle of angst, crack, no use of yn, reader is not the prefect, reader is referred to as 'king' in a gender neutral way (like how riddle as queen), fic is more focused on the dynamic of their relationship rather than of the relationship itself (but perhaps another fic is in order...), riddle's pov kinda?, just a very short oneshot.

word count : 1.5k

The door opens but nobody that's already in the room thinks too much of it, until someone unfamiliar speaks.

"Good evening, Card Soldiers."

The mild bickering ceased to exist entirely. The door clicks shut.

The first years couldn't tell if it was an illusion or not, but they swear they saw the Housewarden of Heartslabyul tense at the sound of the person's voice and averted his gaze. Shoes tap against the floor tiles until they stop at the foot of Riddle's designated recovery bed.

The newcomer wore the eyesore that was the Royal Sword Academy uniform, but the things that caught the attention of specifically the Prefect would be the scarily regal presence that the person exudes, and the badge pinned against the left lapel of the stranger's blazer, an exact replica of the crown Riddle adorns on his school tie.

They brandish a polite smile, "you are dismissed."

It was clear to everyone that this person will not accept any other answer than compliance - "RSA? Who're you to tell us what to do? And what are you even doing here?" - well, except for one.

Ace raises a brow, lacking any form of decorum or respect, as per usual. The temperature of the room seemingly dropped, and yet, the stranger was still smiling.

Before Ace gets an answer, he feels a sharp jab at his side and a hand resting between his shoulder blades. Trey is quickly ushering all of them out of the infirmary. The heart soldier watches the academy student and the Vice exchange a look and a nod.

The door clicks shut once again.

With everyone now gone, you walk over to Riddle's left of the bed. Right hand against your heart, you bow your head, a custom.

"I greet the sovereign of Heartslabyul, the everlasting law, the Queen of my own heart," you cannot hide the smile in your voice and Riddle hates it in an affectionate sort of way.

"Must you always greet me incorrectly?"

"I am but a mere servant to your rule," you give him a cheeky grin, and with a touch as light as a feather, you take his right hand to press a quick kiss to the knuckles. Riddle sports a pout as he retracts his arm, but you never take him seriously when he's beet red, always a sucker to your flowery words.

Despite this, he has not once looked you in the eyes since you arrived.

Silence and tranquillity floods the atmosphere but anybody can feel the underlying tension beneath the layers. You shatter the quiet.

"I came as soon as I could." You sit down on the edge of the bed and he shuffles to the opposite side so that you do not fall off.

"I know." Riddle's sight is focused on the bed sheets where his hands rested. He watches your hands clasp over his, your touch is warm and just slightly sweaty, but he would never care for something so little.

Besides, he can tell by the sound of your breathing that you're still recovering from the journey. Upperclassmen say that it takes almost two or three hours to walk from one end of Sage's Island to the other, and this is without factoring the mountain you'd have to climb to get to NRC.

"I really thought I lost you when I was notified by one of the cards." Riddle can feel your stare and the sorrow in your words. You probably dropped everything to get here.

"I know." He takes a quick glance at the clock on the wall. How did you even manage to get to the college in just a little over an hour since he was admitted into the infirmary?

"You need to make me lots of crosswords to make up for it." The Housewarden clenches his jaw and thinks you are too forgiving compared to how much inconvenience and worry he's caused you.

Why are you not reprimanding his recklessness? Why would you risk a dorm-arrest to visit him with no prior permission? He reckons that your sentence would last at least a week if the professors find out of your absence, two weeks if you used a broom without authorisation. After this, would you think of him as a nuisance or embarrassment and leave him-

Sensing all of his inner turmoil, you reach out to carefully fix his dishevelled hair back into place and cup his cheek, coaxing his head in your direction so that he finally, finally looks at you.

Riddle's eyes are glassy with unshed tears, but the steadying pulse under the palm of your hand is soothing, your gaze is soft and full of something that is unconditional. Riddle knows that he can stay looking at you until forever falls apart.

Thumbing the flesh gently, you are watchful not to touch any gauze or smudge remnants of ointment. "Crosswords aside, I implore that you tell me, my Queen: What ails you so? Have I done something to be undeserving of your gaze?" Though, that last part was supposed to sound more like a joke.

"No!" He belts out before he could process your teasing lilt. "I mean- I- That's not- Ugh!"

Riddle gives up at the sight of your smug face and relaxes into your hold for just a few more moments, not caring for his burning cheeks or the delicacy that his lover offers him, only wanting to feel them wholly and fully.

He expels out a shaky breath, sits up straight, and lets everything go. Riddle tells you everything. The collars, the unbirthday, the tart, the duel. Riddle expresses his revelation about his mother and her rules. He confesses that you were right this entire time, and that he hopes you can forgive him for the times he denied it and admonished you.

Riddle's story ends and your brows furrow with guilt, "I knew I should have transferred to Night Raven. Maybe it would have prevented-"

He is quick to lace your fingers together with his own and silences you right away. "Perish the thought. You are not to blame. Not you. Never you."

Deciding to reward his efforts of attempting to distract you from your own thoughts, you sigh and lean in so that your foreheads touch, and Riddle does not oppose the connection. Closing your eyes, you breathe out lightly, quietly, as if only the two of you existed.

"You have tormented yourself in such a manner for far too long, my loveliest rose."

At that moment, Riddle swears up and down to The Seven that he has never been so in love. He looks down at your joined hands and smiles for the first time that day.

"I promise not to do it again, my Liege."

[ Extra ]

"What the hell was that for!?" Ace rubs his side tenderly after Cater elbowed him earlier. He earns disapproving glances from his seniors and unsurprising stares from Deuce, Prefect and Grim.

"Be more careful, Ace-y. They're the Housewarden slash Ruler of their own dorm back in RSA, but is also the Honorary King of Heartslabyul because they're Riddle's partner," Cater pulls up pictures of you from the academy's official magicam and shows the first years. "So that means they're in the same position of power as him in 'labyul, so you need'ta treat them like it."

Ace snatches the phone from his grasp and scrolls through the content, in denial. The other first years crowd around him. "Partners? With that Tyrant?? There is no way Housewarden was able to pull before me."

They all stare at the photos of you doing a plethora of activities, presumably around the rival school. Gardening, directing students, baking, tea parties, generally doing nice things. Yuck.

Ace tries to find your personal magicam but Cater yanks his phone back, exasperated, "I think they've been together for almost two years now, so it's not like it's new news."

"Myah, I don't know about you guys, but this 'King' of yours looks like a weak-ass, lovesick simp. Simp in capital letters, bold font and red text," Grim had lifted himself up and peaked through the window in the door to the infirmary, watching the royalties speak softly to each other.

The two third years give each other a look and both can vividly imagine the sound of your laughter and you saying that you wholeheartedly agree with Grim.

"I still don't get why you just followed their orders without question. I should show them the mighty power of The Great Grim, and then we'll see who's the real king! Nyahaha- Yowch!" Deuce had smacked the monster in the head.

Trey leans against the wall beside the closed entrance, crosses his arms and chuckles at the statement. He looks over his shoulder and also observes the duo inside.

"I've known them since we were kids, and trust me, Grim, they aren't someone you can mess with and get away with it unscathed."

He chooses not to mention how Grim fails to see the pure concentration of magic emanating from your figure.

[hyunniesgirl]

Stupid in love

Pairing: Seo Changbin x reader

Genre: angst, fluff

Summary: less than a month into the wedding, you get into a big fight with Changbin. When you think he's going to call it quits, he makes sure to show you that you're very much wrong.

Requested: yes

Warnings: a bit suggestive

All my works are for +18 audiences, minors do NOT interact!!

You park in front of your house, the lights are on, your fiance is home. He's home and he stood you up. You're mad but mostly you're sad, you're overwhelmed and so tired, exhausted, actually.

You enter the house, hearing sounds in the kitchen, you don't even want to look at him right now. You want to yell at him, argue but you don't even have the energy to do that, so you just take your shoes off, leaving your coat hanging by the door and walking silently to the stairs so you can go to your room, wash up and just sleep until morning comes and you can pretend this day never happened.

“You're home?” You hear Changbin's voice as soon as you go up the first step to the second floor.

“Yes”, you say, continuing to go up.

You hear his footsteps coming after you, but you don't stop, you want to close the door right on his face.

“I ordered food”, he says again, confused as to why you didn't kiss him when you arrived or why you're not looking at him.

“I'm not hungry”, you say simply, stopping in front of the mirror to take your jewelry off. You give up on the idea of closing the door on his face, you don't want to hurt him even though you're furious. You take off your earrings, watching him through the reflection of the mirror. He's looking at you with a frown on his face, trying to figure out why you're angry, he's sure he didn't do anything this time.

“Are you mad?” He asks, naively.

“What do you think?” You ask back, glaring at his reflection.

“I think you are”, he pouts.

“Then you already have your answer”, you say, finishing taking the bracelets and rings off your fingers.

You turn around, walking past him and going to the bathroom to wash up, hearing his footsteps after you again. You sigh, why won't he leave you alone?

“I'm not sure what I did wrong this time”, Changbin clarifies, trying to make you tell him what's wrong.

You laugh, looking to the ceiling and trying to calm down. Turning to look at him and leaning on the bathroom counter, looking at your fiance with your arms crossed in front of your chest.

“I really don't know if I should feel less angry that you genuinely forgot about our cake tasting today and not just chose to ignore what I've been planning for months”, you say through gritted teeth, watching the panic form on the face of the man in front of you.

“I-it was today?” He stutters, patting his pants to find his phone and check on his agenda just to find the event he had scheduled on his calendar to be exactly today. “I didn't mean it”, he says, running his hand through his hair. “I had so many meetings today, I just got home”, he explains.

“I guess your work will always be your top priority”, you scoff, feeling tears starting to brim on your eyes.

“Don't be like that”, Changbin sighs, “you know you are my top priority but I'm not just an employee, I'm the CEO”, he pleads, you know that and you're so tired of that.

“I'm well aware of your position in the company”, you laugh, rolling your eyes. “That’s why I never say anything when you come home late or when I'm all ready for a date and you have to reschedule it because something came up”, you sigh, “I only asked this one thing of you: that you show up when we have something related to the wedding but you couldn't even do that for me”, you cry out, feeling the tears running out of your eyes.

“You're talking like I did this on purpose”, he murmurs, hurt showing in his eyes.

“I'm not saying this to make you feel guilty”, you run your hands through your hair, “you don't know how humiliating it was to wait for you there for three hours, Ryujin and my mom told me to reschedule but I told them that you were going to show up”, you take a deep breath, “jokes on me, I guess I'm the only one who cares about this fucking wedding”

“You're not the only one who cares”. He says with his voice a pitch higher, it happens when he gets nervous. “I'm trying to clean my schedule so we can go on our honeymoon without me having to worry about work. I have so many meetings every day and I have to pass all the work to my secretary so nothing goes wrong while I'm away”

“Maybe we shouldn't be doing this”, you whisper, putting your hands on your sides and squeezing the fabric of your shirt.

“Are you being for real?” He asks, incredulous, anger and resentment flooding his mind.

You regretted saying it the moment the sentence left your mouth, but unfortunately you can't unsay something, all the more something so hurtful as that.

“I-” you step closer to him, but Changbin steps back, shaking his head.

“I need to think”, he turns to the door, walking away and leaving you behind.

You're such an idiot, how could you say that to him? It doesn't matter how angry you are, there's no excuse to hurt someone you love like that. You feel the tears falling down your eyes while your knees give in and you fall on the floor, crying your eyes out. Did you ruin everything? Is he going to call off the wedding? Is he sick of you now?

Hours go by, you walk back and forth in the house, waiting for his car to park in front of the house but it doesn't come, he doesn't show up. Did he leave you? You should expect that much after what you said.

You lie down on your bed, hugging his pillow, feeling his scent and crying until the exhaustion from the day makes you fall asleep.

You're awake with rustling in the room, you open your eyes widely, seeing Changbin packing. Oh, he's leaving you already? Without even trying to talk?

You feel your tears showing up again and a sob escapes your lips, being followed by more sobs and wailing, making the man turn around to look at you scared.

“Hey, what's wrong?” He runs to you, jumping on the bed by your side and hugging your body, squeezing your cheek on his chest while he caresses your hair. “Did you have a nightmare?” He asks, worried and you shake your head.

“You shouldn't be nice if you're going to dump me”, you cry more, sobbing in his arms.

“Excuse me?” He holds you by the shoulders, pushing you away so he can look at your red and puffy face. “What are you talking about?”

“You're packing because you're calling off the wedding, right?” You point to the bags, “you hate me now, I know you do”, you cry more, burying your face on his chest, soaking his shirt with your tears.

“Bunny, look at me”, he repeats his action from before, pushing you so he can look at your eyes. “Why would I leave my beautiful and kind fiance?” He asks, smiling gently at you.

“Because I was mean, I didn't really mean that we shouldn't get married, I really want to marry you”, you start mumbling, making him chuckle.

“That's great, because I still really want to marry you too”, he clarifies, coming closer and kissing your forehead. “I was packing because I'll be kidnapping you today”, he smirks, watching your eyes glow with expectation.

“Where are we going?” You ask him but he shakes his head.

“It's not a kidnapping if you know where I'm taking you”, he looks at the watch on his wrist, “you have exactly ten minutes to get ready, if I come back here and you're not done I'll take you with me anyway”, he informs you.

“Binnie!”, you pout, “I can't even take a shower in ten minutes”

“Too bad for you then, you better get to work. Tik tok”, he jokes, making you huff, jumping from the bed and running to the bathroom.

You take the quickest shower you have ever took, hurrying to the bathroom counter to brush your teeth with one hand while brushing your hair with the other, thinking about what you're going to wear. You're sure this is his revenge, he's torturing you because you were mean to him.

You figure you still have two minutes before he shows up, so you put on jeans and a long sleeve shirt.

“Times up”, Changbin's head pops on the door, a smug smile on his lips.

“I didn't even put any makeup on”, you plead, looking at the things you need right in front of you.

“Nope, don't even think about it”, he walks up to you, chuckling when you pout. You're ready to fight him on that, when he grabs you by the hips, throwing you on his shoulder.

“Binnie! What are you doing?” You kick and wiggle trying to make him release you.

“It's not a kidnapping if you go with me willingly”, he points out, making you laugh, he's unbelievable. This man is insane.

“I can't believe you”, you sigh when he drops you on the passenger's seat of his car, fastening your seatbelt. You watch as he walks around the front of the car and gets in the car. While you watch him turning on the engine and starting to drive, you wanna cry again. You just love him too much.

“I'm sorry about yesterday”, you bite on your bottom lip, “I was really exhausted and angry but that's not an excuse to say those things to you”

Changbin nods, stopping at a red light and looking at you.

“Let's just say we are even now”, he grins, grabbing your hand and giving you a quick peck on the lips.

When you arrive at the airport, he tells you to cover your eyes the whole time until you get into the plane, making sure you have no idea where you're going. When you finally see Jeju island through the plane's window, you look at him excitedly, just to find the man taking a nap. He must have stayed awake all night long, making this trip happen. You watch as his chest rises and falls, slowly, his dark hair covering his eyes.

You really don't know what you would do if he really had called the wedding off, maybe you would have begged but something you're sure is that you wouldn't be able to let him go.

As soon as the plane lands, you wake him up, shaking him a bit. His eyes flutter open and he smiles at you, brushing his fingers on his eyes to help him wake up.

“Shall we?” He offers his hand to you, seeing you nod and take his hand. Changbin stands up, pulling you with him, walking behind the people getting out of the plane.

You feel like the sun shines brighter in Jeju, the weather is warm and nice, like the perfect day for a trip. After renting a car, you two drive to the hotel, Changbin has everything ready with a suite already reserved for you.

You're a bit tired, after barely sleeping at night you are a bit sleepy but you won't go to sleep, you want to enjoy every minute you can with your man.

“I'm going to take a shower and later we can go to the beach”, you tell him, stepping closer to wrap your arms around his waist and to give him a peck on the lips.

“Should I let you, though?” He wraps his arms around you, “maybe I should keep you stuck in bed with me, paying for being so mean to me”, he smirks.

“You know damn well that that wouldn't be a punishment”, you step away, pushing him a bit.

“But I deserve compensation”, Changbin points out. “Don't I?” He grins, making you sigh.

You throw your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Enough for you to be able to touch his lips with yours, feeling his hot breath mixing with yours, his scent is just intoxicating you feel like you can go insane at any moment.

He wraps his arms around your waist, pressing you against him, seizing the opportunity and pushing you against the wall. You sigh when he pulls away from you, landing kisses down your jaw and neck, sucking on your soft skin.

“Stop right there mister”, you come to your senses, pushing him away, making him whine. “Did you bring me here just to have sex?” You squeeze your eyes, judging him.

“No, I just can't resist you”, he pouts, giving in. “You can take your shower, I'll wait”

He gives you a quick kiss and turns around, walking to the bed and sitting on the edge, sighing dramatically.

You try to walk normally, but your legs are about to give in. Changbin mustn't know the power he has over you, you'll be done for if he ever finds out.

You two walk by the beach, watching the sunset. He holds your hand with both of his, caressing yours dearly while watching you.

“You know, I love you”, he says out of nowhere, making you turn to look at him. You blush, as if you have never heard that before.

“I love you too”, you answer.

“I don't think you understand the depth of my love for you, though”, he clarifies. “The fact that you thought I was going to call everything off because of a fight shows that you're not aware of the hold you have on me”, the man steps closer, lifting one of his hands to your face and caressing your cheek. “Y/N, I love you when you're kinda, I love you when you're smart and I love you when you're funny, but I also love you when you're angry, I love you when you are upset and I love you when you're sad. I love you every hour, every minute and every second of the day and unless you dump me, I won't let you go so easily.” He smiles, chuckling to your eyes brimming with tears, you're such a cry baby.

“I'm not a lyricist like you, so I'm not as good with expressing myself”, you tell him, wiping your eyes, “but I love you so much, you have no idea how much I do. I want to spend the rest of my life with you and I promise I'll prove my love to you everyday”, you smile, giving him a quick kiss. “I don't want to wait three weeks to be your wife”

“Then, let's not wait”, Changbin suggests, kissing the back of your hand. He chuckles seeing the confusion on your face. “Let's get married today, no guests, no fancy party, just you and me and probably two strangers to be our witnesses”

“What are you talking about?” You ask, confused but you can't help the smile that grows on your lips.

“Let's register our marriage right now, we can do the big party later as we planned but right now we can do it just you and me, what do you think?” He asks, hopeful. You give him the biggest smile, throwing your arms around his neck and in a second his arms are wrapped around your waist, spinning with you, making you giggle excitedly.

You and Changbin run to the city, buying him a suit and a white sundress for you. Outside of the register office, you find two people nice enough to agree on witnessing your wedding. Your fiance prepared two rings made of flowers that would probably not last more than a day, but the important thing isn't anything like that. The most important thing is the spark in his eyes when he's looking at you, while waiting to sign the papers. The most important thing is how he presses his lips on your knuckles after putting on the flower ring on your finger. The most important thing is that you're husband and wife now. And that you'll never ever let go of each other.

[parkerluvsu]

day 18: punishment <3

authors note: this is totally late im so sorry.. also i am skipping day 19, partially because im extremely tired and also because i don't know how to incorporate food into sex <3

art knew what he was doing was wrong, he just didn't care. he was past the point of caring.

you've been away for weeks (2 to be exact) and art hasn't jerked off at all since you've left. sure.. he's brushed up against his pillow while he's going to sleep one too many times, and sure hes "accidentally" stroked himself a little too much in the shower.. but he's been good!! he's been your good boy and followed your orders. until now.

you texted art that your flight was running late, grounded for about 2 hours because of the winter storm currently running its course outside the airport.

"sorry artie, flight is delayed cuz of weather, don't wait up for me baby, might not even be home tonight"

"okay :( i miss you soooo much, text me when u land pls"

"alright angel, will do :) love u <3"

"love u too <3"

art sighs and flops on the unbearably empty bed, flinging his phone a little farther than he meant to and wincing. he looks down at his cock slowly filling out in his jeans and groans. what is he supposed to do without you here? as thoughts of you start to cloud his mind, art can't stop thinking that if he just jerked off really quick and got rid of all the evidence, you wouldn't know it, and you'd come back none the wiser and he wouldn't get punished. great plan right? wrong.

after furiously jerking off until he cums himself silly, art finds himself totally unable to clean up after himself, cum stating to dry on his blanket and stomach, as well as tissues strewn about the bed. art sighs and tries to fight the sleepiness that clouds his mind and makes his eyelids droop more and more. he thinks to himself that he'll clean himself up before you get back, and drifts off to sleep with a smile on his face.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

you arrive at your apartment door hauling your heavy suitcase and back pack behind you, trying your best not to jingle your keys too much and wake up art. you carefully unlock the door and push your bags inside, slipping off your shoes and walking into the house tiredly, wanting nothing more to sleep for 20 hours. you're stopped however, when you round the corner and see art splayed out on your bed, absolutely naked, cuddling your pillow with a cum stained blanket bedside him. you sigh, leaning down to pick up the scattered tissues and throw them away. when you're done with that, you gently sit next to art, trying to pull away the dirty blanket from him and replace it with a new one.

art senses the movement and awakens, first being elated to see your face, and then shocked at the fact that he was caught red-handed. "h-hi.." art looks away from you and blushes. "hey artie.. you gonna tell me what happened?" you coo at him softly, tricking his brain into thinking he won't get punished. "w-well i jus' missed you so much and then when you said you weren't gonna be home for a while i just couldn't handle it anymore.. b-but i swear i didn't do anything while you were away!! except for that.." art rambles, trying to plead his case in front of you. you smile and nod, reaching out to cup his face. art sighs, he's safe. "... but you remember what the rule was, right?"

arts eyes snap open from their blissful state. "w-what?" art is starting to lose his composure, guilt washing through him. "the rule? remember.. before i left i told you that you weren't allowed to masturbate at all while i was gone. and you broke the rule artie.." you say with a pout on your face. "l-listen 'm sorry, 'm really sorry.. you understand right? i- just couldn't take it anymore.." you shake your head, "you know that i have to punish you right? it's what i told you would happen if you broke the rules.." art nods sadly, trying to charm you with his puppy-dog eyes but you're stronger than that, not falling for his tricks.

art tries his best to hide his obvious arousal from you, but you see how hard he is through the blanket he's covering himself with. you inch closer to him, gently pulling the blanket off of him, watching as his cock slaps against his stomach. art whines and looks away from you, moaning softly when you grip him in your hand. even though he's already practically empty from cumming earlier. you stroke him up and down gently, smiling happily when he bucks his hips up to meet your touch, feeling like he's halfway to heaven after not feeling your touch on him the whole time you've been away.

arts head is in the clouds, watching as you stroke him faster and faster, your hand getting slick from all of the precum drooling out of him. you know he's getting close, his hips move faster, almost fucking your hand, as his moans turn almost girlish. "'m gettin' close.. it feels s' good.. thankyouthankyouthankyou..." art doesn't get a chance to finish his sentence before you rip your hand off of him, leaving art to pathetically hump the air to try to finish himself off, but it's no use, his orgasm is completely ruined. art has tears brimming in his eyes, "w-why did you do that.. i- i was s' close.." his lower lip wobbles. you tilt your head to the side, hand smoothing over his milky thigh. "what do you mean artie? i told you that you'd be punished, did you forget so easy?" art frowns, shaking his head. "i- i didn't forget i just.. it's unfair" he pouts. you smile and bring art closer to you, cuddling him against your sternum.

"i know.. and im sorry.. you know i hate when you're sad, but you have to learn your lesson yeah?" you press a kiss to his forehead. art nods, cuddling up to you. "yeah.. 'm sorry really, it's just cuz i missed you so much" art says quietly, blushing a little bit. "i missed you too artie, don't worry, ill make it up to you soon" <3

[scarletwinterxx]

middle finger and promise rings - jaehyun scenario

helllooooo a fluff moment with jung jaehyun. I was scrolling through tiktok the other day and I found a compilation of him laughing and it was the cutest thing ever so now we're here😅

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

and if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(pics nad gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

Jaehyun enters the apartment and the first thing he hears is your laugh. He hangs his jacket on the hook, takes off his shoes before walking towards the living room where he sees you lying on the couch giggling to yourself.

You spot him over your phone, quickly turning it off when you spot your boyfriend "Hi, you're home early" you greet him, walking towards him.

He smiles at you, opening his arms to give you a very much needed hug. He does everyday, without a fail. Whenever he gets home from work or somewhere, he asks for a hug from you.

"What were you watching?" he asks

"You"

"Huh?" he peaks down at you, still caged in his arms

"I was looking through my phone then I saw a bunch of videos, like from when we started dating until recent. You looked cute, especially when you laugh" you answer him

"I thought my laugh was loud" he chuckles, letting you to sit on the couch. You follow him, taking the seat beside him.

"It is. But I love it so much, you know you have this kind of laugh when you find something really funny and your face scrunches up in a cute way" you try to mimic it while Jaehyun watches.

You might as well tell him you'll marry him with the way you're making his heart explode right now. Moments like these are what he looks forward to the most when he comes home. The simple conversations with you, no matter how random they are, he cherishes them so much.

"Oh by the way, can we order chicken and pasta for dinner? Or chinese food? I can't decide, how about you what do you want?"

"Chinese sounds good, do you want me to call our favorite place?" he asks, already getting his phone out

"Okay, and this came in today by the way" you say, passing the package that arrived today. "What is it?" you ask, while waiting for him to open it

"I forgot, must've ordered this a long time ago"

Without checking the label he opens it. When he flips the unsealed package upside down, a velvet box falls on his lap.

The two of you freeze.

He should've checked the label. Jaehyun internally panics.

Meanwhile you don't say anything, waiting for him to do or say something. But he doesn't so you clear your throat, getting your phone on the table "I'll order, tell me if you want anything else" you tell him.

"Uh yea sure" Jaehyun swallows the lump in his throat, finally coming to his senses. Taking the box before excusing himself. You hear the bedroom door open and close.

After that night you don't mention anything about it. You didn't ask questions. You acted like you didn't see it. Jaehyun wondered if he should ask but he doesn't know where to start.

What do you think it was, did you have your suspicions, were you upset with him? These are the questions running in his mind. But you never said anything to him, like everything was normal.

He was debating if he should've just showed you what was inside. If you were thinking it was a ring then you're right.

About a few months ago, he ordered a ring after finally getting your size. He's still worrying if you'll like it. It's not an engagement rring, not yet atleast. The ring inside was a promise ring for you. You told him a story about wearing a ring ever since your teen years, way back before the two of you met. You bought yourself a ring, a promise to exchange it to something else when you get yourself a boyfriend.

You showed him the ring before, it was a simple metal band you used to wear on your middle finger. You never took it off, not a day. That was until he asked you to be his girlfriend.

Of course he had to get you a new one, he was just waiting for the right time to give it to you.

He forgot to check the email about the shipping and didn't expect it to arrive when it did. It definitely wasn't part of the plan to open it infront of you.

It's been a few weeks since then. You honestly kind off forgot about it. You trust Jaehyun will tell you in the right time.

Tonight, he's running a bit late. He got caught up in a meeting so when he got home you were already sleeping. He enters the apartment carefully, walking through the hallway and cracking the bedroom door slowly.

The lights were all off, the only light coming from outside but he can see your silhouette from under the blanket. Quickly but quietly he gets ready for bed, sliding beside you.

He turns sideways to watch you, eyes closed, face peaceful, breathing slow and quite. You're giving off the most serene aura, he can't think of anything else but you.

Your hand was resting open beside your head, he reaches a finger out to trace random patterns while still watching you. He missed you so much today, he don't want to wake you up but he wishes he can give you a hug.

He does that for quite some time, tracing things on your palm while watching you waiting for sleep to come to him too.

From random patterns, to short words. He's now tracing random words on your palm, like you always do with his. You always do it randomly, in public or when it's just the two of you. Most times you spell out the word 'I love you' on his palm, that was actually how you said it to him for the first time. It took him some time to finally realize it, and when he did looked over at you with a surprised look. Saying the same three words back at you.

Right now he traces the word 'mine' in yours, while his mind wonders just how lucky he is to have you in his life.

He believes this isn't the only lifetime he'll love you, it isn't possible. Wishing hoping praying that in all alternate universes, however many there are, that version of him meets their version of you.

Suddenly feelings emotional, he sits up on the bed before reaching for something in the bedside drawer.

You're a light sleeper, especially when you're by yourself. The only time you really fall into deep sleep is when Jaehyun's with you. That's why when you hear some ruckus from Jaehyun's side, you wake up from your slumber

"Jae? You're home?" you mumble, your eyes still closed

"Did I wake you? Sorry, baby. Go back to sleep, I'm here" he whispers. He pulls you towards him, resting your head on his chest. You cuddle him more, making yourself comfortable again.

You listen to his heartbeat to lull yourself back to sleep when you feel him take your hand that was resting on him, he puts something on you before you feel his lips kiss your knuckles.

"What are you doing?" you mumble, opening one eye to peak at your hand only to see a ring that definitely wasn't there before you slept.

You open both eyes this time, sitting up to look at it then at Jaehyun

"Explain" you tell him, gesturing at your hand

"It's a promise ring, remember you used to wear one before we started dating. It took sometime but I finally replaced that one, I didn't want to freak you out on our first anniversary so I waited until now" he explains

"Is this real or am I dreaming?" you ask him

Jaehyun chuckles before sitting up, now face to face with you. He takes your cheeks in his hands before pulling you towards him for a kiss

"This is very very real, my love"

"It's so pretty" you pout at the ring, a simple band with a diamond on it. Like a leveled up version of the one you used to wear

"I'm glad you like it even though I kinda ruined the surprise" he tells you

"I thought it was an engagement ring, not gonna lie"

He kisses you one more time before he pulls you down, settling you on his chest once again. "We'll get there one day. This time I'll make sure it's a surprise"

"But I am surprised, I love this surprise"

"And I love you, that ring is a promise to keep my promise of forever with you. One day we'll get there, one day I'll watch you walk down the aisle to me" he mumbles against your forehead, sealing it with a kiss after

"I'd love that, and I love you too"

"Let's go to sleep now, dream of me okay?"

[helloheyhihowdyheya]

I've been playing with this idea of meeting Carmy at a party, and neither of you really want to be there. So you get out of there. Let me know if anyone would like to see a full fic of this.

Not super proofread. Lots of swearing. Thank you for reading <3

p.s. apologies for dunking on Richie in this, I love him

Pity Party

Carmy Berzatto x reader

* * *

Fuck Richie, and fuck this party.

The words circled through your head again and again, tumbling and hitting the inside of your skull to the beat of the music blasting from the living room. You fought against the pounding headache that began to grow from it.

The drunken nights and stagnant air of parties like these had never been your favorite. Not as you now held your shirt away from your skin so the spilled beer dripping all down your front didn’t stick to you. Some drunk asshole was waving his cup around while he told a gross story about a woman he’d hooked up with — most of the contents landed on you during a particularly lewd gesture. As you walked to the house’s bathroom, you pitied whoever she was.

You avoided these kinds of parties for this reason, among others. Your cup only had water in it for Christ’s sake. But Richie practically begged you to come, even though he was the only person you knew. And he was your ride home. You didn’t even know whose house you were at. You hadn’t seen him since you’d arrived.

As you turned the corner, your shoes sticking along the floor with each step, you nearly ran into a woman standing against the wall. You quietly apologized before noticing she stood in line behind several other people.

“Is this for the bathroom?” you asked, not bothering to hide the tiredness from your voice.

“Yep,” the woman answered, popping the ‘p’ of the word. “Only one there is, too.”

Biting back a sharp groan, your jaw clenched tight, you gave her a nod and turned back down the hallway. Fuck Richie indeed.

Shoulders bumped against your body as you pushed your way through to the kitchen. Goosebumps rose along your skin where you couldn’t keep your shirt from touching, yet in this rising heat of the many bodies here, you knew the dampness would turn swampy quickly.

You’d dry the beer and then ask Richie to take you back — which he wouldn’t. Maybe you’d try ordering a ride or begging a friend to come get you.

Finally in the kitchen, you saw a tipped-over roll of paper towels in the corner. Partially lying in a puddle of what you assumed was more spilled beer, the paper towels still looked like they came from the goddamn heavens. Grabbing them, you shuffled your way between people toward the sink. 

Just as you nearly made it to the sink, your steps stuttered to a stop. You swallowed down a groan at someone leaning on the counter in front of it. The man there had a head of curly hair standing out against the dark blue sweater he wore.

The second you came close, his eyes caught yours. They widened as he muttered out a quick, “Shit, sorry.” He raised his tattooed hands as he moved to the side, his fingers gripping a can of Pepsi.

Giving him a tight but appreciative smile, you began drying your shirt over the sink. The paper towels grew dark as they soaked up some of the liquid. But no matter how much you blotted, it still felt gross against you.

“Here, uh, let me find some soap or somethin’,” the man to your side said. He reached a hand toward the cupboard under the sink. Hesitantly, you stepped out of his way and let him root around in there. Your fingers picked at the seam of your pants until he stood back up a few seconds later — with a nearly empty bottle of dish soap in hand.

He’d barely set it down before searching in another cupboard, leaving you to absentmindedly continue dabbing at the stain. This time, you let your gaze look at the tattoos trailing up his forearms and disappearing beneath his sweater. But you shifted your eyes away as he looked at you, while grabbing out a bowl and filling it with water.

“If you get some warm, soapy water on it right away,” he said, squirting some of the dish soap into the water, using his finger to mix it together, “it’ll help keep the stain from setting.”

With a slight frown still dotting your expression, you ripped off another section of the paper towels. Dipping them into the bowl he held out, you told him, “Thank you.”

“Yeah, ‘f course,” he said, nodding quickly, setting the bowl down. “You can try and get some vinegar and water on it when you get home. Or rubbing alcohol if you have it.”

You glanced at him for a second. God, were his eyes blue. “You spill beer on yourself often?”

The ghost of a laugh pulled from his mouth. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, leaning back against the counter again. “No, uh, not really. But I’ve had plenty of food on me in my time.”

You let out a confused laugh, but before you asked further, you noticed how the beer slowly diluted from the fabric. The constant smell of beer finally grew fainter. “You’re a goddamn lifesaver. Thank you,” you told him, shaking your head. “I wasn’t sure how I’d survive getting home smelling like a bar.”

He actually grinned that time, and you decided that he had a nice smile. Grabbing his Pepsi again, he took a sip before saying, “Jus’ let me know if you need anything else.”

A laughing scoff escaped your mouth as soon as he said that. You lifted your shirt away from your body to discreetly wipe off the sticky residue along your skin, your teeth chewing on the inside of your cheek for a moment. “You could tell Richie to shove it for me.”

His smile slowly dropped, his eyes connecting with yours. “Christ…what’d he do this time?”

The anguish in his voice brought a smile to your mouth, something you hadn’t had since you got here. “So you know him?”

As you grabbed more paper towels to now dry everything, you watched him run his hand through his curly hair and then over his mouth. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, probably too well.”

You pursed your lips. “Yeah, well Richie invited me here. Normally, I’d say no — but god he’s persistent-”

“God. Yeah, he is.”

“Right? So I give in and, y’know, give him the benefit of the doubt and all,” you said as the man nodded along. “But he went off somewhere almost instantly to catch up with this ‘friend of a friend’s brother’ or whatever — without a word, of course.”

A breathy laugh left his mouth. “Of course.”

You let out a sharp breath. “I know this isn’t all Richie’s fault, but I’m blaming him just a little for getting covered in cheap beer,” you muttered, beginning to ramble. “The worst part really is that he said there’d be food here, but there’s only a few stale chips and watery salsa. I mean, who lies about snacks?”

“Criminal,” he said almost under his breath.

“Yeah, I’d say this is the last time I let him talk me into one of these, but there’s only so many ways to hide from your next-door neighbor in an apartment building.” You shook your head as you remembered him inviting you to this one — your fingers on the handle of your apartment door waiting to get in after a long day at work. Truthfully, you enjoyed your conversations with Richie and appreciated the excuse to get out of your place.

“Oh shit, you’re Richie’s neighbor?” the man questioned, his arms crossed back across his chest. Your eyes traced the veins along the back of his hands as a slight twist went through your stomach at his words.

Raising your eyebrows, you asked, “Is that a bad thing?” You hadn’t thought there was much worth of note from your experiences with Richie or his daughter.

“No. Well, a little. He wouldn’t fucking shut up about this neighbor who smelled his spaghetti and knocked on his door asking for the recipe. I got the dish cut from the restaurant, but he used that story again and again to try and convince me to keep it,” he explained, a hint of red beginning to peak along his neck.

As someone passed between you two to grab the paper towels, you winced, ready to apologize for the spaghetti drama you caused when a question passed through your thoughts. “You work at The Beef?” 

He nodded as you remembered the rant Richie went on when you’d asked for the spaghetti recipe, which you’d only done because you were starving and hoping he’d give you a little — which he did. Slowly, you tilted your head, furrowing your eyebrows at the man. “Wait… Do you run The Beef?”

His gaze dropped for a second, his mouth flattening into a straight line.  “Uh, yeah. Trying to, at least.”

“Wow,” you breathed out, giving a small smile, “you’re Carmy. Can’t say I’m envious of your job — it’s sometimes all Richie talks about. Or you. He talks about you a lot,” you told him, angling your chin upward. You could now pick out the tiredness etched into the lines of his face.

“Oh yeah?” His eyebrows raised, a grin growing across his face. 

“Oh yeah. I thought you’d be a lot more annoying from all the stories I’ve heard,” you said, dropping the used paper towels into a nearby trash can. And you couldn’t fight the hint of warmth in your body at seeing him laugh harder at that. With what you’d heard of the restaurant’s struggles, you briefly wondered if Carmy hadn’t done a lot of that lately. But finding out didn’t sound terrible.

Just as the conversation lulled, your stomach decided to announce its displeasure with the lack of food at the party. “Wouldn’t mind some of that spaghetti now actually,” you grumbled with a short laugh.

“You hungry?”

The question almost didn’t register as you looked down at your shirt. Your hands slowed their incessant smoothing long enough to consider his question. You glanced at him quickly.

“Uh, yeah, I guess. I didn’t really get time for dinner before coming here… ” you uttered beneath his expectant stare, unsure of where to go from there. “Are you hungry?”

“Sure,” he laughed, shaking his head as if that wasn’t the point. “But if you need a place to eat, I know this taqueria not far from here. It’s open late, and their tacos are fire,” he offered, running a hand through his hair again.

“Oh, thank you.” You smiled at him, already thinking of the food that you wouldn’t get to eat. You waved him off. “But Richie’s my ride, and I don’t think he’s going to leave anytime soon. Plus, I should get home before going out again. Don’t think anyone would appreciate smelling a brewery the whole time.” You let out a breathy, almost nervous laugh.

His fingers played with the tab on the Pepsi can, twisting it this way and that. “Wan’ a ride? We could pick up the food and drop you off at home.”

Your eyes dragged inch by inch from your shirt to his. A warmth swam in them, not like the stifling heat of this house, but the kind that warmed the last minutes of a summer evening. It almost drowned out the music and chatter that’d begun to drift out of your awareness.

“Don’t you want to stay at the party?” you asked, your expression settling toward a frown. 

A hair curl slipped onto his forehead as he shook his head. “I also came for Richie. And both are shitty. I don’t mind ditching for good food.”

You pursed your lips and, with your stomach already grumbling, found that the decision was not a difficult one to make. 

So, you followed Carmy between the waves of people and across the sticky floors, not taking your eyes off the patches of color on the jacket he’d put on. The first deep breath in hours filled your lungs in the night air. Your exhale curled out in white wisps beneath the clouds and above the thawing ground of spring. The sauntering breezes felt chilling against your damp shirt and made you hurry after Carmy to his car.

His van doors creaked as you climbed in. Your hands pressed between your thighs to build a little heat as the engine revved awake. But in the pulsing silence away from the party, you felt much smaller here.

As he pulled onto the road, you said, “Thank you for driving me, by the way.”

You turned to catch his firm nod beneath the passing streetlights, each one illuminating the moles and lines of his skin. The radio buzzed quietly beneath the bump and dips of the van’s wheels along the cracked roads.

—

Part two

[fvckingwolfstar]

You Forgive Me Yet?

pairing: top! Hozier x fem! reader

summary: he teases you and makes it up to you

genre: smut 18+

word count: 837

cw: the slightest bit of exhibitionism, teasing, calling him an asshole, oral (f! receiving), begging if you squint, bickering

author’s note: a shorter one that i might make a part two to! Also this video makes me s(cream), wanted to share.

masterlist

smut under the cut

“Almost ready?” Andrew calls, fixing his hair in the mirror.

You finish your makeup and pull up your dress to sit right on your chest, “Yeah, I’m done,” you say, walking to the door to slip on your shoes. He follows you and kisses your head softly.

“The restaurant is always crowded, so I don’t think anyone will recognize us,” he hums, wrapping your jacket around you. “Lets go, love.”

You nod and take his arm, walking out to the car with him. He drives to the restaurant, the two of you humming along to the radio and chatting. When you arrived to the restaurant the two of you were seated almost immediately. You were sat beside each other in a booth, some of his friends in the booth beside you.

As you ordered your food, he reaches over and puts his hand on your thigh. You don’t really notice, he does that all the time, but when his hand starts making it’s way to the hem of your dress, your breath gets caught in your throat, so you cough to distract from it.

Andrew’s large hand creeps further up your thigh, before landing at the crease between your thigh and your hip. You choke a bit on your water as it gets there. His slender fingers tease over your aching core as you try to keep your composure and make small talk with the people beside you. As you keep up this act, you can feel Andrew’s eyes boring a hole into you.

Your fork clatters to the table as he slips his fingers under your underwear.

“You alright, y/n?” he asks, feigning concern.

“Yeah, yeah I’m okay,” you say, picking up your fork up again. A blush creeps from your face to under your dress as he rubs your clit at a snail’s pace.

He continues teasing you, killing you from the inside until the end of dinner. You’ve been on the edge of coming for at least ten minutes, and he’s refusing to help you at all. After the dinner, the two of you walk to your car in silence. When you’re both inside you turn to him, “What the fuck, Byrne?” You ask angrily.

“What’re you talking about, love?” He asks obliviously. He steers the way home with one hand on the wheel and another returned to your thigh. You can see a hint of a smirk resting on his lips

“You fucked with me all night, you dick!”

He chuckles softly, “Oh, that?”

“‘Oh, that?’” You mock, “Asshole, you’re making this up to me when we get home.”

“How do you suggest I do that?”

“You’ll fucking figure it out if you want me to forgive you,” He chuckles lowly and pulls into the driveway.

He gets out first and goes to open your door. His hand in yours he leans down to kiss your cheek, “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll make it up to you,” you get that fluttering feeling in your stomach when he does that. You try to hold back a smile as he pulls you inside, peppering kissing on you as he does.

Once inside, he closes the door, pushing you up against it, “I’ve been wanting you since we got up this morning,” he hums against your neck, nipping at it playfully. You lean your head back, moaning at the sensation.

He kisses down your body until he’s kneeling in front of you. He pushes your dress up and kisses your thighs, “Is this okay?” you nod frantically and pull the elastic out of his hair quickly. He chuckles as you shake his waves out with your hands and take a hold of it. He sucks hickies into your thighs, pressing soft kisses to them as he finishes each one.

He kisses your clit softly through your underwear before hooking his fingers in the waistband. He pulls them down slowly and mumbles, “So pretty,” he kisses your lower stomach, making his way to your heat. His strong hands grip your hips, keeping you in place as he teases you with his tongue.

“You teased me already today, you asshole,” you whine, gripping his hair tighter, “please, just do it.”

He dives in, sucking your clit into his mouth. He groans against it, making you buckle against the door. He holds you against the door with more force, licking slowly strips against it. He rotates from sucking, to slow stripes, to flicking it quickly with his tongue. All the movements and changes making you tear up slightly from the stimulation. Your grip tightens on his hair and he whines softly against you.

You shake as you come on his face. He continues his ministrations before you pull him off by his hair. He leans back on his calfs and looks up at you, he lips wet and red and his eyes glinting. “You forgive me yet?”

You chuckle tiredly and lean down to kiss him softly, “Yes, but you’re still an ass.”

He shrugs, “I can live with that.”

[dancinglikebutterflywings]

500 Followers = 500 Words Event: Jeonghan

Dinner Can Wait | Jeonghan

-> Pairing: Yoon Jeonghan x gf!Reader

-> Requested by: @staytiny2000

-> Prompt:  Prompt 31 - He's had a hard day at practice and all he wants is Y/N.  

-> Warnings: showering together (nothing kinky). Alludes to a bad dance practice. No mentions of military because we ain't going there, okay?

-> Word Count: 507

-> Requests: Closed.

500 followers = 500 words M.List | Main Masterlist | Tag List Form

The moment Jeonghan walks into the apartment, he drops his bag onto the floor and slips off his shoes right by the door. As he steps further inside, the delicious aroma of the food Y/N is cooking fills the air. He heads over to her and greets her with a sweet kiss.  

"I just started on dinner," she says with a smile as he leans in to her pressing a kiss to her shoulder. "You have plenty of time to take a shower," she adds, knowing he’ll want to freshen up before eating. This has become their little routine: he comes home, she cooks while he showers, and then they enjoy their meal together before winding down for the night. 

However, tonight Jeonghan has something different in mind. He reaches around her to switch off the stove, gently takes the utensil from her hand, and moves the pan to an unused burner. 

“Hannie, what are you doing?”  

“Come shower with me,” he replies, guiding her toward the bathroom, leaving no room for her to object.  

“But the food-,” she starts, but Jeonghan shakes his head.  

“Dinner can wait. I’ve missed you all day,” he insists, making her feel a twinge of concern. He seems more clingy than usual, hinting that something might have happened during dance practice.  

"Are you okay?" she asks as he turns on the shower, testing the water with his hand until it reaches a comfortable temperature for both of them. 

Jeonghan nods, but there's a flicker of something in his eyes that makes Y/N wonder if he means it. She watches him as he removes his clothes and steps into the shower. In a flash, she undresses and joins him before he can pull her in with him. She learned from a previous time when he was like this that she needed to be quick before he pulled her in, clothes and all.  

With the water cascading down their bodies, she can’t help but notice the tension in his body. 

“I’m fine,” he reassures her, his voice is softer than usual. “It’s just been a long day. Practice was intense, and we were all getting frustrated with each other.” 

Y/N nods, her heart aching a little at the thought of Jeonghan having a rough day. She steps closer and wraps her arms around his waist, resting her head against his chest. She can feel the tension in his muscles slowly begin to ease under her touch.  

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asks, looking up at him.  

He sighs, running a hand through his damp hair, and shakes his head. “Not really,” his voice is low, and she can sense the weight of his exhaustion. “I just want to be with you.” 

“Okay,” she replies, not wanting to push him into talking about what happened. Instead, she focuses on taking care of him.  

After their shower, Jeonghan and Y/N decide to order food rather than continue cooking. When their food arrives, they cozy up on the couch and start a movie.  

©️ 2024 dancinglikebutterflywings - do not copy/modify/repost anywhere. reblog instead

Tag List Form

@rainydayteacups - @staytiny2000 - @forever-atiny - @shuaserendipity95

[writingwisterias]

Day 16: Temperature Play

ID! Leon Kennedy x AFAB! Reader Warnings: SMUT, MDNI, Temperature play, Glass Dildo, Phone sex, Mutual Masturbation, Mention of porn Masterlist

You stared at the text on your phone whilst you were at work, confusion flashing over your features.

‘Can you open the parcel and leave it in the freezer for a few hours?’

What the fuck was he on about? Leon had been away for a few days, yet another long business trip that was far too boring for him. Reducing his time spent with you. Despite having access to all the hotel's entertainment, he still thought of you. He was close to requesting the sheets to be changed because of how much he spilt all over them. He wasn’t shy to admit he was missing you, poor Hunnigan had gotten the heat of his frustrated rants. The new toy he got you was more for himself than you. He wanted to spend his final free night before the huge event listening to whimpers as you inserted it.

Leon wasn’t shy to admit he watched porn when he was away, preferring videos of you playing with yourself but if the timezones were too far then he would cave. He didn’t want to disturb your beauty sleep after all. That’s where he learnt about the glass dildo, the one that was now sitting on the doorstep of your shared home waiting for you. He had to admit, his text was probably too vague, he could imagine your cute look of confusion as you tried to make sense of it.

You stared at the box when you arrived home, the shape of it looking ordinary but the fragile sticker along the top confused you. You sighed opening the door, placing the package on the table before taking off your coat and shoes. Your phone chimed with another text from Leon :

‘Hope you got home safe, Have you opened it yet?’

His vagueness was catching you off guard, opting to open it before you replied. You expected something weird and strange. He had gained a habit of ordering random things online when they popped up at adverts but this was different. He would have had to look for this, scanned the internet until he found exactly what he wanted all whilst thinking of you. You pulled the dildo out of the box, the length similar to his, the girth slightly smaller it would be a reasonable substitute for him. However, putting it in the freezer stumped you.

‘Interesting. Why am I putting it in the freezer?’

‘To make it cold. Wait until I call you later to take it out :)’

The wait was killing you, the more you thought about it; the more tempted you were to touch that ball of nerves. You had tried everything at this point to not think about how soaked you were. Taking a cold shower - it normally worked for Leon. Watching some intense movie where you had to concentrate. Nap.

When your phone rang hours later you were giddy seeing his photo pop up. His adorable smile on the screen, one that only you were blessed to see, Crow feet lingering at the corners of his eyes. “You haven't touched it yet have you?” He asked, followed by shuffling. Leon had just got back from a long dinner, the outline of his cock was visible the entire time he thanked the Lord that the lighting was dim in the restaurant. He now laid on his hotel bed, his trousers and boxers discarded somewhere by the door. His shirt open and his cock thumping steadily against his stomach. The tip was already beading with pre cum like it was desperately crying for his attention. “No it's still in the freezer” you spoke, walking over to the kitchen. Leon smirked when he heard the freezer drawer open along with your hiss of it being freezing. “It's meant to be love…god I wish I could see you do this” he groaned.

You had walked to the bedroom, the toy wrapped in a tea towel warmed it up enough you wouldn't get freezer burn. “Okay I'm ready” you announced. Your statement was followed by his dark chuckle crackling through the speaker. “Okay baby can you touch your nipples with it please? I want them to be nice and perky for me” he said. You hissed as you picked up the cold dildo before rubbing the tip of it against each nipple. The sensitive buds peaking instantly becoming sore to touch. Your whimpers crackled through his phone, his only confirmation that you were doing as he said.

Instead of touching himself just yet he wanted to wait. Trying his best to ignore the way his cock slapped against his stomach, the angry tip now poked through his foreskin exposing the now steady stream of precum that dribbled down the sides. “It's so cold Leon” you whimpered, the sensation causing your nipples to become painfully hard. Each flick of the dildo around or about them caused you to bite your lip - breathless moans falling from your lips. You could only imagine how this felt once you touched more sensitive areas.

“Can you drag it down your breast? Towards your cunt baby? I want to hear how it feels” he grumbled, hands grabbing at his thighs pulling at the dark hair that decorated them. You tried to form words, the anticipation of what it would feel like against the heat of your pussy filled your mind instead. Leon however wasn't satisfied with that, he wanted to hear every detail. So each time you passed a point he wanted an update on or missed an area he wanted feedback from, you would have to start again. Drifting the toy back up along the goosebumps until your lust filled brain got it right.

His fingers twitched when you finally reached your clit, the description of how it was fluttering underneath the glass was almost his breaking point. If only you could see the pool of precum on his stomach, muddled in with the snail trail - you would have complained what a waste. He could already imagine the feel of your tongue lapping it up like a milk thirsty kitten. “What-what next?” you shivered. The breeze of the night didn't help cool your skin, your body shivering causing the dildo to flick against your clit. “Play with yourself baby but don't enter just yet”

Leon had to catch up, his hands slowly working to each swear, each moan that left your lips as you dragged the dildo through your folds. He hoped he left it long enough that you weren't easily heating it up, losing the freezing temperatures. You could hear the wet sounds of his movements crackle through the phone, wanting desperately to ask how he was doing but all you did was circle the tip of the dildo against your weeping hole.

It was interesting how the glass dildo had such detail for its material. How it never bent or moved like the normal silicone ones. It stayed perfectly hard, ridgid despite your movements. You could only wonder what it would feel like once it sat snugly in your folds.

“You can push it inside now baby.”

You let out a guttural groan as you did so followed by a hiss because of the temperature. Leon let out a groan of his own as he swiped across his tip, spreading the endless stream of his pre down his shaft. He imagined his hand was your pussy, the self lubricant he used was just your juices that spilled from you. He wanted to know if the cock turned cloudy as you thrusted it inside, the arousal that normally coated his now coating the ridgid toy. “How does it feel, baby?”

“So hard…I can feel all of it”

He groaned, the image of your pretty pink lips separating for the toy flooding his mind. God if only he could see this.

His orgasm was incoming and by the sounds of it your was as well. Your whimpers and groans cracked through the phone. It sounded like some badly recorded porno from his phone. Your whimpers turned into swear until finally you gasped and it all released. Your cum warmed your frozen fingertips as it splashed over it. Leon came at your description, ropes of cum climbing his chest almost reaching his chin.

Your gasps and moans were the only thing that filled the air as you both calmed down. “Where do you come up with this shit?” You chuckled, pulling the toy out and laying it back on the towel. Leon laughed, his head thrown back against the plush pillows his phone balanced on his chest. “Boredom away from you”

You both said your goodbyes and miss you. The phone call ends with sweet promises to see each other soon and the dildo tucked away safely in the freezer waiting for his return.

Taglist: @kasueli @luvrgreyy @michellekmsh @miss0giarra @cinnabunnysavvy @redollface @my-loved-figure-skates @luvlouiee @drawboo22 @moth-quasar @nyxxoxo @crazy-b1tch

[ms0milk]

pitch in a teapot

sanemi x inn keeper

reader has a business to run and sanemi can't help but watch you do it well, barking orders, teaching firmly, smiling and scurrying around like a fancy little bell. There's something he's been trying to get out of you all afternoon but chores keep stealing you away. cw MDNI, frustrated thunderstorm quickie, reader w vagina + penetration, slight manhandling, desperation and a little bit of sass. 4.1k

thank you so much my darling @neiptune for requesting a little sanemi this @ficsforgaza season! you were so generous and patient waiting for this to come out, I hope you enjoy angel

Six bowls of soup upstairs and an old man somewhere in the bowels of the inn with a limp and half a shoe. Right, okay, send two girls to the garden– no. One to the garden and one to the kitchen. That’s dinner taken care of as long as the scholar with the fat pony– donkey, maybe– doesn’t regurgitate an encore of the rakugo performance that couldn’t have been funny in the first place.

You roll the sleeves of your apron slightly tighter in their tasuki. The cyprus walls of your inn bleed fragrance before summer thunderstorms so you make a mental note too, to order storm doors for the second floor before the clouds go black and blue. Incensed breeze, juniper, wisteria, paper windows, one foot, the next, again, each step down the wooden hallway is a quiet knock. Each summer at home is heavier, heavier, and this year is the flood.

“Oi.”

“Not my name,” you blow from the corner of your mouth without changing pace. That breath was ready to jump off your lip before the demon slayer even called out to you; he hates doing nothing and hates even more what great pains your staff take to avoid his room.

“It reeks.”

“Excuse me?” You huff and this time do turn enough to interrogate him via glare. Sanemi, ridiculous, folds his arms in the doorway of a very nice room, a too nice room, without any of the appropriate embarrassment of someone who has been lying in wait. The stippled blue pattern of his robes doesn’t suit him. They clash with his ugly scars and uglier attitude but don't keep him from wearing the chest wide open like a well paid rent boy.

“Stinks.”

“Whatever of, princess?”

He growls and drops his arms as you brace for the lecture, “Demons.”

His heart is incapable of peace and yours with it, and every summer he’s assigned a post in your mountains by a master you’ve never met and who couldn’t possibly be sane themself. Four years of this. Four years of twelve weeks of sixteen-hour-days of the world’s most neurotic demon slayer.

“The whole property is wide open for any fuck to attack.”

You adjust your grip on a slender bucket handle and the cloth in your other arm and continue back downhall, “You always say that.”

“I’m always right,” he nags and pushes free of his bedroom.

You met Sanemi when you were sixteen and still working under your parents. He was a brand new hashira then and prone to fist fights, spitfire, bloodshed. Nothing special. Nothing new. Hashira come and die and new hashira come again. They arrive in flashbangs and ego and leave like everyone else, in pieces.

Your parents were calm, they had peace and practice, they ran this inn, they welcomed Sanemi with his summer floods. They loved him, took his counsel and died by it, and they probably wouldn’t have lost an old man inside the house. But this is your inn now. They aren’t here anymore and at your inn sometimes old men get misplaced.

“And what would you like me to do about all that, sir?”

The hashira keeps an easy military pace behind you, “The gardens need to be reinforced and–”

“Nine acres of wisteria arbor need reinforcement? Yeah I’ll get right on that.”

“The storm will take out ha–!”

“And the other half will hold until autumn. Go berate the kitchen staff for their unpreparedness– they’re all unarmed you know? Totally unprofessional.”

“Y/n–”

“Shinazugawa,” you spin and it all comes out as a threat, a hiss, instead of just a whisper so much so that the water in your bucket nips up your sleeve. “I am the lady of this establishment and you will not address me so familiarly.”

Dark cyprus, cool hallways, the undeniable scent of thunder. Sanemi rests his hand on his sword to glare like he does when his hands don’t quite know what to do with themselves. His eyes roam, quiet under long lilly lashes until they have traced the shapes your tasuki makes with your waist and rise again to your gaze. “We’re not fucking finished.”

“Go eat,” you snap and turn back down the hallway, red at the ears. Lady of the establishment, great job.

Feet aren’t complicated, bone to tendon, tendon to muscle, muscle to skin, one step and another. You tilt your head back and an eager girl rises to wipe sweat from your temple.

“Like this,” you hum and tilt the old man’s heel in your palm. He winces but lets you continue while the girl stares on. “When the skin is split like this it can’t receive moisture– sorry sir, better?” You set his foot on the hammock of cloth between your thighs, “So you need to soak it first before applying salve. Yeah?”

“Yeah,” the girl parrots, still unable to look away.

“Yes.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You smile through an eye roll but gesture for her to come sit beside you. You’ve been like this since he’s met you, too old for your body.

You’ll train anyone who asks, hire any runaway girl, absorb the cost of thieves when runaways are exactly that, and you will wash old men’s feet before eating dinner with the self preservation of a samurai. Famously long-lived, those. Sanemi has to look away when you take scissors to the gnarled yellow nails and almost covers his ears when your pupil starts asking you questions about it.

“Feels good right?” You chuckle at the man’s response to your ministrations, and then a little louder, when you realize just how seriously the girl beside you is trying to focus. Birdsong. “Do you have companions on your pilgrimage, sir?” He shakes his head.

You lean away again so the girl can dab your brow and push back stray hairs and turn back to explain overdetailed care instructions to this man who is obviously so embarrassed he can’t hear a word you’re saying. Something about tallow and socks, Sanemi tries to read the syllables off your lips and loses focus the second time your teeth catch damp and pillowed pink.

The man seated in front of you grumbles some and flexes a few fingers around his cane like old men do, but doesn’t protest your instructions. He nods instead of thanking you like a real tough guy.

“Fetch a new pair of sandals from the garden shed,” you instruct your girl who bolts up and out the door past Sanemi without so much as a breath. “And you,” you turn back to your patient, “keep the nails short, you hear?”

He nods again, increasingly avoidant of eye contact. Sanemi tenses in the dark outside the guest’s complimentary room and hates ungrateful fucks enough for both of you.

“And don’t skip any more meals.” 

The man’s wrinkled skin unfolds at his eyes and he pulls his legs back underneath him. You dry your hands after scrubbing clean in a soapy pot and stand to collect your tools. “I couldn’t find you this evening and I hate to lose track of my guests at mealtime.”

You are going to feed every stray you find until the economy collapses. Peasant monks, pickpockets– you’d put up a demon if its stomach growled. After too many unnoticed minutes watching you, following the white x between your patterned shoulders, eating your voice, warming the hallway, you finally pick out Sanemi’s eyes in the dark behind the sliding door. He’s waiting for you. You clear your throat for the broke old pilgrim one last time, “You don’t owe any money. Do not skip meals.” And bid him a wordless good night. The door cracks shut behind you. It isn’t late enough for sunset. Thunderstorms make it so dark so quickly and they mask the scent of blood with all their rain and iron. “What is it?” You deadpan and shuffle towards the stairs with all the confidence in the world a tenured hashira will work to keep up with you.

“Not fucking finishied with you,” Sanemi grunts, working to keep up with you. The apron over your service kimono forces your hips to sway in tight little circles and Sanemi sucks his teeth. He doesn’t look away.

Through the hallway and down the servant stairs, socks on polished wood, you tap, tap, tap nimbly to your next assignment. The room below radiates heat and life. “What do you want?” you whisper.

“I–” he slips barefoot on the slick last step into the kitchen and you stumble in your newly damp right sock. “Euh, I–”

“Mimiko!”

“Lady?”

“Wet.” You point behind you, palming Sanemi out of the way, and a free washerwoman dives for the spot with the rag tucked into her belt. The kitchen rages silently in the easternmost corner of the mansion; men and women sweat over donabe, rinse their body weights in rice, and beat little fires with littler fans. Two women and a boy linger just outside the paper door in clothes that match yours for formality and Sanemi assumes as he weaves through the bustle, that they are responsible for bringing food to customers and for doing everything they can not to sweat through their pretty borrowed uniforms. Your own kimono is purple tonight, a cool little shape bobbing nimbly between flames.

Sanemi opens his mouth to shout after you and shuts it again just as quickly to grind his teeth instead as you lift your apron over your head. You let a girl feed you a spoonful of something on your way out of the room and she wiggles when you nod several times before ducking through the door.

Laundry next, then a double check of the firewood cache and the whole while Sanemi occupies your shadow. A few times you hiss over your shoulder at him for looking so gruff, for looking like a bodyguard, for making your customers imagine your distrust of them, always you bite back before he can get more than a few words out but mostly you just scurry in preparation for the storm picking up warm wind outside.

You avoid the entrance with him so close in tow, armed and obstinate, but make a show of circling both tatami halls where guests come after dinner on rainy nights to stretch and smoke by the brazier with strangers. A female musician trills her koto. The sky hasn’t let loose a single drop of rain yet but wet hangs like a fog and thunder scents the air ahead of its arrival. As Sanemi trails the outer walkway of the mansion behind you, the sky bleeds with the last of day’s light in the cracks between bruised and racing storm clouds.

“Second floor secure?” You confirm with the men slotting thick panels into grooves where paper doors usually go. They nod in their white uniforms. Beyond the porches, beyond the east garden and its fat green vegetables, beyond dogwood trees and sarusuberi and maples that have begun to tremble violently in winds buffeted by humidity and nightfall, the wisteria arbor glows. You radiate a cool purple pull beside him just like your flowers.

The arbor surrounds the property on all sides for half a mile and all three paths away from the house are barred by gates of twisting wisteria vine. The inn belongs to your family, but does not serve Ubuyashiki. Theirs is not the only house that discovered a use for these flowers. Yours is not the only wisteria business in the country. 

“Do you see that?” You murmur at so much the same tone as the wind that Sanemi almost cannot hear you.

Three years ago he left before the end of summer, called away to investigate a massacre nearby. A tree fell that season. It crushed a straight path through the edge of the mountain forest and onto your property where, lured by so much blood and wine, a pair of sister demons descended through the broken orchard and devoured everyone who wasn’t fast enough to hide in the flowers like the slayer suggested they should in an emergency. Your parents evacuated the house and died in it with the guests who couldn’t walk on their own. Nestled under three braided vines at the far edge of the property, you listened to them die.

The winds kick up sand from your vegetable garden and you step off the porch into the start of the storm. Tiny and purple. “Y/n!” Sanemi lunges for you. His sword whips the meat of his thigh and you step out of his way before he can grab any part he intended to. The men on the porch watch you both scramble through the backyard. You snap at the strange guest and duck when he swings a hand towards you, hop in your sandals when he tries to trip you into his arms and dart away like a dragonfly.

“Get back here!”

“Go inside!”

“Y/n!”

“How dare you!”

“Motherfucking, Y/n!” 

“That’s enough!” You bark and twist back towards the garden shed. Your pupil left the door wide open and all its shining tools caught your eye across the yard. Sanemi was staring when you stepped outside. His eyes feel like beads of sweat on the few bare parts of you. His gaze is all teeth on the back of your neck.

With all but one storm door up, not a single guest can hear the ruckus you two kick up outside in the prologue of the storm. “It’s about to pour!”

“Then go join the other guests!” You shout through a particularly violent breeze and you have to grip to the break in your kimono closed. He does not. By the time you lay a winded hand on the wall of the shed, it has started to rain.

A silencing wall of water falls from the back of the property straight towards you. It kills dust clouds in its path and paints every surface soaked in a perfectly straight line. Sanemi rushes from behind and nearly lifts you off your feet to get inside the shed as you watch the supernatural army advance on your home.

“Shit,” he grumbles and winces when the rain overcomes the little shed and splashes off the pavement into his face. He pulls you deeper inside and you jolt. The first crack of thunder is a scream that shakes the ground, “Scared of thunder now?”

“Scared of my profit margins, you oaf.”

Under his shoulder you are glaring at the storm between this shitty stuffy shed and your business. You are so small and wrapped so tightly in layer after layer of fabric. It must be hot. The damp drips down his open chest and thighs, it frizzes his hair at his ears. You must be sweating somewhere in that formal getup. Wet glistens at the curled little hairs on the back of your neck where the skin is just barely visible and it sparkles under your high collar.

“I can’t walk back inside soaked,” you groan, “there’s not enough time to change before final rounds.”

Sanemi takes his hand off his sword. There must be damp parts of you hiding from him. He brushes his knuckle up the bare skin of your neck, across your throat, and you falter slightly.

“Sanemi–”

“Nuh uh, don’t address me so familiarly,” he smirks and cups your cheek in his big hand when you jerk around.

“That’s not–!”

“Not what?” He smiles now, and drops his hand back to his sword so that you might find your own weapon and finish the fight. Four years of this.

You shove a finger into his chest, “You’re such a clingy fuck Shinazugawa,” and shout a little because you know the thunder will hide it. A sudden gust blows the sheet of rain sideways and straight inside the open door of the garden shed, up your dress and down his robes and through your prettily pinned hair. “Y/n this, y/n that, I’m busy Sanemi, I’m stuck in a shed! You’re the only one who calls me and people think we’re fucking! You want my attention you have it so please tell me all about the demons that’re gonna slurp up my customers and fuck my taxes to shit and–”

The door creaks in Sanemi’s hands even through the oceanic sounds of storm when he begins to close it. He nods as you get louder, nods as he slides the door closed and flicks the latch.

“Do not,” you growl, “there’s five thousand–”

“Five thousand little bitches in there lost without direction? They’re fine, Y/n.”

“Don’t call me that here.”

“They’ll survive, little lady.”

You spit, “not better.” And the new humidity of the closed shed begins to swallow you whole. It fills your throat. “What about all the demons you’ve been crying about?”

“You’re such a cocky cuss.”

“And you’re needy,” you taunt. It’s Sanemi’s turn to wince and his frustration starts to drip from all those places he shoves it away from you. He's been gentle with you since that summer. He lets you interrupt him, he follows where you go. “I watched you check perimeters this morning, you don’t need to talk to me about demons.”

“Eyes everywhere huh?” His throat is pink, “Lady of the house.”

You grin and pull him by the loops of his robe into your tiny purple kiss, “Shut up.”

“M’lady,” he growls against your lips and succumbs.

Four years of stolen touches, lips on damp summer skin, coming out of empty rooms too ruffled and pulling the hashira between your legs without disturbing the folds of your work kimono. “Don’t call me that either,” your breath hisses against his throat like an iron and he drops his sword quickly to gather you in his arms.

Too much fabric. Shovels and shears clatter against the floor and one another when the thunder shakes their little house again, and they tremble at every thump and roll of your body against Sanemi’s. He pulls your hips against his and guides your legs around his waist so he can sink into those soft parts of you. So he can tilt his head back to look up at you, so you can pour your kisses down his throat like wine.

You drag your nails up the back of his head when he offers his tongue to your lips, biting, suckling, drawing out gentle sounds and eating them before they compete with the rain outside. Where his hips dig into your own the folds of your skirt fall apart. Legs that glisten with sweat and rain part nicely for him and his own robes grow clingy with exertion where he grinds hard against you. Every subtle roll breaks your concentration in kisses, in lips sliding, begging with salvia and rainwater. His hands cup your cheeks, thighs, the collar of your kimono shudders open for him when he dips to suck bruises under your jaw and the swordsman’s hand loses control as he grips your belt to free you from all this formality. He’ll press crescents into your breasts, he’ll lower his tongue through your peach sweet folds and drink until you cry– but you pull his head back with a sharp yank of your wrist.

Your breath comes in clouds. The inn glows with candlelight across the yard but the light through the shed’s window is too weak. Welts of lighting illuminate the flush of your chest and cheeks. Two seconds of bright and twelve of dark warmth, shaking swirling thunder and then only rain. Sweat rolls from your temples and into the depths of your kimono. It’s been days since he’s had you like this and longer since you’ve had true privacy, others a whole yard away.

You can’t be gone long, he knows. Staff watched you race in here together, watched him shut the door, he knows he knows, he just can’t put you down yet. He leans in for another kiss and you let him fall close enough for his chest to crush yours before pulling back on his hair again.

“Y/n,” he’s suddenly not above begging but you hold his gaze tight. You watch him as your hand slips between the place your bodies meet. Pretty fingers reach for the heat between his legs. Pretty knuckles ghost over the swell of his robes and draw the fabric aside instead of ordering he bring you back inside. Sanemi’s cock perks up in free air as high as this position will let it and rests heavy under the swell of your ass.

He kisses you again, toothy and smiling and when you kiss him back your sharpest teeth clink together. He ruts into your desperation against the wall, harder than the rain, harder than the wind that threatens to blow your shed away and you with it. Obviously he wouldn’t let it but the thought that nature might be jealous of the rumple you made of each other drives him harder against you. Slipping, cock hard and suddenly shifted up against the hair under your belly. Peach fuzz yields to warm slick and Sanemi drops his head to your chest when he shudders to avoid whimpering into your mouth. He slips through your folds with a tight hold still under your thighs and drags himself up, down, up, hypnotized always by the faces you make when you’re trying to keep quiet.

The scars across his body are forever numb, but when your clammy hands paw is his chest he swears he can smell color. He can touch light when you pull his face back to yours frantically, when your hips with all their fabric flowing off of them buck sloppily against his, when he thrusts once deeply inside of you and forces a broken gasp from the back of your throat.

Before you can catch your breath your lips have crashed against his and his hips against yours. Sanemi keeps the relentless, restless, starving pace you like and knows he’ll last only the next few minutes before the worst of the storm blows over. Again and again he carves a palace for himself inside of you. You guide him with the falter of your kisses when he finds that perfect spot and with the slick that coats both of your thighs. Your voice escapes you in choked whimpers, his name comes out in hiccups. You’re a little bell in his arms folded in half and singing for him.

Again and again, out and so deep back inside, Sanemi’s feet grip the floor as he plunges his hips into yours and both of your bodies into the swelling wood walls. His rhythm staggers as you flutter around him and with his head against your shoulder he watches the circles you draw on your clit with the tips of four clumsy fingers as your other hand muffles your voice. He grabs that quieting wrist without thinking and without taking his eyes off the place your bodies connect with lewd squelches and sticky white threads. His threatening grip, his thick cock and your fingers push you right over the lip of your pleasure and fluttering becomes milking spasms quicker than Sanemi can think to treat you gently. That half-sobbing voice he loves so much cheers him towards his own climax and the more sensitive you grow the easier it is to coax those sounds out of you that you try to keep hidden, “Don’t– don’t be so quiet.”

“Inside,” you whisper in reply and draw his face into your hands as his pounding stutters in pace and loses all flow completely under your dreamy gazes. Sanemi can’t keep his eyes open when he cums. His pretty lilly lashes flutter with lost concentration. He shudders, ruts you deeper into the wall and groans with release as he fills those swollen wet parts of you. Warmth pools in your belly and trickles off his cock still buried. Sweat falls like the rain outside.

“Wanna taste,” Sanemi rumbles without setting you down or stilling his thrusts fully. He nuzzles somehow farther into the dip of your collarbones. Soft snow white hair, a heartbeat in the fingers that grip you. Every twitch of his hips is a starving ache.

“C'mon,” you grin, “dinner’ll get cold.”

“Let me taste you.”

“Sanemi, what will I eat if you eat me?”

“Have a few ideas,” he smiles back through the trembling of the shed in encores of thunder and gale. A leak tip tap tip taps nearby. Four years of this, maybe more.

[nieceeee]

"Let Me Help"

P/S: You and Eren decided to co-parent and things have been going well. You managed to keep a good distance and keep your hands to yourself. Until your hormones get the best of you and him being a good baby daddy offers to help solve your problem W/C: 2007

A/N: smut, minors DNI, baby daddy eren x reader, nicknames (mamas because you're his baby mama, babydoll) oral sex, praise kink, pregnant reader, NSFW,

I took some pieced of my original work and changed the characters so enjoy. I think I want to start adding more fluff. let me know if you're interested

“E don't, okay.” you huffed, holding a hand up at him. You and Eren had just made it back to your apartment. You had some errands to run earlier and he insisted on being there. You can't carry all that in your condition anyway he had fussed at you over the phone. You roll your eyes, placing your hand over your swollen abdomen as he opens the passenger side door for you. 

“I told you I didn't need any help.” you complained but like always, he refused to listen to you. 

Honestly, you were grateful that he was still around to help you out. After your relationship ended, you both decided it would be best to have a decent connection for when the baby arrived. Eren refused to let his child grow up without him so you both had to sit down and compromise. Despite all the drama from your relationship, you both managed to remain good friends and work on coparenting. 

Until today.

When those pregnancy hormones started to kick in and you woke up this morning with your fingers pressed against your clit, trying to find some sort of relief.  As your fingers circled your opening, you found yourself imagining a very familiar hand replacing yours. You whimpered at the image of Eren’s fingers pressing deep inside of you, stroking that ridged spot that you loved so much. 

“You look so pretty when you cum for me babydoll.” he praised, “Do it again. Make daddy proud and cum all over my hands. Can you do that?”

 Ironically, that was the day you actually made him a daddy. You were so terrified at the two little lines on the test that you took 5 more to make sure. Eren was ecstatic. He had always wanted kids. But your relationship with him had been so toxic that you were scared of what would happen if you tried again. So you both decided to remain friends in order to have a healthy relationship for your child.

All of that went out the window this morning as you coaxed another orgasm from your body, his name falling from your lips. But it wasn’t enough. The fire that burned in you refused to be sated. You needed today to get out of the house and blow off steam, anything to get your mind off of the aching in between your legs. Everything was going fine until he made his daily call. The minute his face popped up on screen, you felt the heat pass through you again. Fucking pregnancy hormones you groaned internally. 

“You all good mamas?” Eren asked you. 

Your toes curled in your shoes at the nickname, “Yes, I just have some errands to run today so I’ll have to call you later.” you rushed. Looking at him was driving your body crazy and you knew you would need your vibrator again before you could leave. “You doing all that by yourself?” he said, brows arching in concern. “Yes, E. I’ll be fine.” you fussed, your leg shaking with anxiousness. You just needed him off the phone. “I’ll be there in 10.” You couldn’t process the words he said before the phone disconnected. Fuck. you thought to yourself, you couldn’t be around him today. Not like this. You hobbled yourself to your room, grabbing your rabbit out of the top drawer and lifting your dress and pressing it against your swollen center. “Shit.” you let out as your juices dripped down your legs. You rushed to clean yourself up just as the doorbell rang. 

“Hey, babydoll you ready?” his voice called from the front door. You cussed yourself for giving him the spare key. For emergencies only you had told him but he still used it as he pleased. 

You met him at the door, hoping that your actions were disguised. He took his time looking at you. His eyes dragging from your head to your feet as he swiped his tongue out over his lips. “You look good mamas.” his deep voice lowered, caressing your eardrums and everywhere in between. “Stop looking at me like that.” you snapped. He gave you a sexy half smile and shrugged his shoulders, opening the front door and holding it for you. 

Running errands with Eren seemed nearly impossible. You found yourself watching his every move. You never thought a man putting groceries in the car would look so sexy. Those veins popping in his hands and traveling up the crevices of his muscles was making you dizzy. “It must be the heat” you explained to him when you needed to grab a seat to catch your breath. By the time you made it back to your apartment, your pussy was throbbing. You needed to make him leave.

Eren noticed you had been distant with him all day but he assumed it was just the heat and the hormones. But as much as you pushed at him, he wasn’t leaving you in that state. Something was going on with you and he wanted to know what. “You can go now.” you forced out. “You’re not putting all this away on your own.” he fussed, starting to unpack the groceries. “Eren, please just go.” you were practically groveling, the need between your thighs growing stronger. “Did I do something wrong?” he questioned, turning to you. His green eyes gazing at you with concern and confusion. “No, you didn't .” you expressed. “So why have you been pushing me away all day? I don't get it.” he urged. “E, please.” you started but he cut you off. “No, not until you talk to me babydoll. What did I do? I want to fix it.” “EREN. I'M HORNY OKAY!” you screamed out dropping your head back in frustration. His eyes blinked. Once. Twice. The room was silent. “I- my hormones are spiking and I have been having trouble all day.” you explained. “You being here has not helped.” He remained calm as he stepped towards you. “Do you need me?” he asked calmly. “What?” He stepped closer, standing right in front of you, forcing you to look up at him. “Do you need my help?” he whispered down at you. 

“What do you mean help ?” you asked, anxious to know the answer.

He smiled down at you. “Come here mamas.” he said softly. You walk towards him, taking his outstretched hand. He leads you through the house and to your bedroom. “E-” you start. He looks back at you and all your words get caught in your throat. Eren positions you next to your bed, coming up behind you. He gently slides his hands underneath your belly, a warm feeling running through his chest as he lifts slightly to offer you some relief. You sigh sinking into his arms, your back pressing against his chest. “Eren, are you sure this is okay? We said we were setting boundaries.” you said softly. “I know.” he whispered, rubbing small circles on the underside of your belly. You hummed in delight at the sensation of his warm hands on your skin. “Look at it this way mamas.” he explained. “My goal is to make sure you are as comfortable as possible. And this is causing you discomfort, yeah?” You nod, riding the high of his words as he continues to massage you. “All I want to do is help you get a release.” he whispers, leaning down to you. He rubs the tip of his nose against your neck before clamping his teeth down gently into your shoulder. Your legs buckle slightly as he runs his tongue over the mark. “You smell so fucking good babydoll.” he groans, his dick hardening behind you. You both stand there for a moment, you pressed against his chest as he rubs your belly and plants kisses on your neck.

“Come here.” Eren says, releasing your belly, He guides your hips back to the bed and lays you down. “Eren, are you sure about this?” you asked breathlessly. He looks down at you as he pulls half of his hair back into a ponytail. “Positive.” he grumbled. He guides you back gently against the mattress. “Just let me take care of you baby. I’ll make you feel good.” he whispered. “You always do.” you let out. He hummed his approval before pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. Eren takes his time, kissing down your neck and into your shoulder blades. Your eyes flutter close as you sink into the bed. He takes his time trialing kisses down to your swollen breasts, his lips closing around the hardened mound as his fingers roll around your other nipple. Your hands travel up his back and into his hair, gripping softly. He growls, biting down gently on your nipple as he continues his descent down your body. He takes extra time kissing around her belly, a smile playing at his lips as he trailers the linea nigra in the center of your abdomen. He travels further until his head is centered between your legs. An audible gasps escapes your lips as the warmth of his mouth attaches to your aching middle. Eren takes his time, sucking at your clit, rolling it gently between his lips before slipping his tongue inside of you. Your back arches slightly from the bed as you revel in each swipe of his tongue, the wetness getting louder as he swirls the muscle inside of you. The wave of heat washes over you once more as he growls into your pussy. “E, baby. Fuck.” you call out to him as he feasts on you like you’re his last meal. You body jerks as the orgasm spills out of you and into his mouth. He stays there, holding onto your thighs lapping at you until you come down from your high. Your essence drips from his chin as he sits up and looks at you. “You taste better than I remember.” he said softly. Your breathing is heavy as you stare into each other's eyes. 

You part your legs slowly, beckoning him closer. Eren’s eyes widened slightly. “You sure?” he asked, his gaze heavy. You nodded. You needed more of him. “Please” you beg. 

He smirked and cupped his hands under your upper thigh, sliding your body closer to him. “E…fuck.” your mind went blank as he rubbed his tip against your opening. “You okay baby? You need to stop?” he looked up at you, his gaze heavy. You looked down at him, thick and heavy, his body begging for release. He was a force to be reckoned with down there. “Y/n?” he asked, stepping back slightly. “I- I ‘m okay.” you responded quickly. “You sure?” he said, still standing back, concern etched on his face.  “Yes. I’m sure.” You lay back on the bed again, opening up wider. He took a breath and stepped back into your space, pressing against you again. Your fingers gripped the sheets as you felt his tip push inside of you. “Fuck” you cry out. He stilled. “Am I hurting you?” he asked. You were drunk on pleasure at the feeling. “No please keep going E, I need it.” you moan out. He shuddered at your cries, and worked his way in a little more. He took his time, slipping in and out of you with shallow strokes, rubbing your clit when you clenched around him. He knew your body inside and out. You felt another weave of pleasure overtaking you. Your walls clenched around him. “It's okay. Release for me babydoll.” he said gently coaching you through your final orgasm. He stayed sheathed inside of you until he’s sure you’re done and slowly pulls out, your creams spilling onto the sheets beneath you. His gaze seared your body as it trailed you from head to toe. “What?” you ask shyly. “You are so fucking beautiful, you know that.” He ran his hand down the side of your face, wiping a few of the tears from your eyes. You smile up at him. 

“Thank you, Eren.” you say softly. “I told you babydoll. I’m always here to help.” he smile before planting a gentle kiss to your forehead.