#if you want to know more about that let me know

[hanasnx]

ᯓ★ “ I WANNA FUCK WITH THE LIGHTS ON ” — clark kent.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ NOTES: this movie isn’t out yet but i can’t wait that long to take advantage of my superman kick and fuck this man. unfortunately i don’t know much about his characterization other than the trailer content. WARNINGS: fem reader ノ established relationship ノ explicit sexual content ノ size difference ノ dick riding ノ objectification ノ p in v ノ praise ノ clark has huge dick syndrome.

“Just… take it slow.” CLARK KENT encourages, but it’s said more so for himself than you. A large, flattened palm emphasizes his instruction, gesturing for you to relax without grabbing you to take over your actions. You stop, his eyes flickering to meet yours questioningly, until he takes a shot in the dark. “Please.” It’s delightfully endearing, and it loosens you up a little.

“It’s not that, Clark, I’m just—you’re just so… you know,” Big. You try to hint at it without blurting it out. Hovering over his lap too long, a tremor builds in your thighs, and you bite down onto your lip as you let it pass through you in a shudder.

His expression adjusts as the realization dawns on him, “Ah,” he exclaims thoughtfully, and he tests the waters, bringing his hands to your body to rest in comfortable places. Your waist seems appropriate, and your fingers fiddle with the muscle in his shoulders as you keep chewing your lip. “Do you want me to take over?” the question is punctuated with a shift of his hips, arranging himself in a better position to begin, but even the marginal movement has you whining with need. It alerts him, tensing up instantly as he freezes while your pretty face twists in pleasured agony. You’re still wrapped around his reddened tip, and it’s a burning kind of stretch that makes you wish you could just shove him in all the way—at the cost of ripping you in half.

Through your heavy lids and thick eyelashes, you manage to meet his gaze with darkened pupils that don’t want to cooperate. You hum a pitiful “uh-huh” while you nod your head, signaling to him that he’s right. His thumbs on your torso stroke at your skin comfortingly, big hands clamped around you as he raises you. The lip of his head catches on the rim of your pussy, and you suck in a breath as an emptiness replaces what used to be filled.

“We’re gonna take it nice and easy,” Clark talks you through it, but even his exhale hitches when cold air hits his slit. Carefully, he lowers you back on, feeding his dick back into your silken walls before taking it away again—all to introduce your hole to his size little by little. The method chips away at your tightness, and you try to follow his movements with yours even if you’re weak in the knees. “Wanna look at me, duchess? Let me see your eyes?” He tilts his head, his curls falling over his forehead as he chases your gaze. You do your best to peel your eyes open one-by-one, granting him his wish as you pant through your open mouth taking his cock one agonizing inch at a time. The sight of you barely holding on when he’s not even halfway in, stretches a smile onto his face, and if you were more coherent, you’d say it’s one of pride as well as endearment.

One hand cautiously releases your side, while the other takes your weight entirely, bobbing you up and down as if you were no heavier than a fleshlight. His other slides between you two to seek out your pretty bud, resting his thick fingers on your thigh while his thumb comes to stroke at that clit. The new sensation slicks you up as quickly as it occurred, and you gasp at how elevated it all feels from a simple action like that. “That’s what you were missing. Right, baby? It’s hard to loosen up without it. You’re so tight…” You know he didn’t say it like it’s a compliment, but it makes your insides jump anyway. Your muscle contracts and suddenly he can fit a lot more in. “Does that feel good?” he asks, his thumb leisurely circling your bud as your pussy drools around him.

Desperately, you nod your head with a couple of “mm-hmm’s!” that lead him to speed up—introducing you to more of his length as he picks up the pace on petting your clit. Your hands abandon gripping his shoulders for stability and instead overlay his. Yours are dwarfed by him, but he takes your guidance, absorbing how you’re putting pressure on his knuckles and replicating it against your poor pearl, getting puffy from the stimulation and the lack of getting railed. It all lights a fire under your ass, and your body moves for you, bouncing in place to try and force more of his cock into you. You can’t overpower the Superman, but he does let you take it all down to the hilt—his strength making a sex toy out of you.

[allpiesforourown]

I don't care for modern/no transmigration aus where shen yuan is all shy and innocent. This is the man who goes to brothels for information and makes friends everywhere he goes. Even in a normal setting I wholeheartedly believe he'd have connections, especially with his status as a rich kid.

I want a fic where Shen Yuan finds Binghe bleeding out in an alley and he's like "damn, calling an ambulance could get this guy in trouble... let me just call that underground doctor who I'm buddies with, he'll fix this guy up and I can pay him in cash so my dad won't ask about a huge bill on my credit card."

So many mafia aus would be way funnier if they were more realistic to how rich people actually act

Binghe: I'm a CRIMINAL I'm part of a GANG

Shen Yuan: um yeah I know, my friends buy cocaine from you

Binghe:

Shen Yuan: anyway

[xinganhao]

🍨 svt spoiling their partner.

★ prompt: how ot13 spoils their partner? 🥹🥹🥹 i am just a girl give me treats c/o @shinwonderful

ⓘ established relationship, pet names, fluff. headcanons under the cut. special thanks to @chugging-antiseptic-dye for helping! ♡

🍨 read more?

seungcheol 𖹭 planning dates. he will refuse to let you lift a finger for your day out. everything will be meticulously laid out, finetuned to be something that you'll enjoy. his goal is to lessen the mental load of decision-making and planning; he wants you to be able to focus solely on enjoying the surprise, and he'll break his back to make sure that happens.

jeonghan 𖹭 'parallel play'. even if the two of you might not be interested in the same things, that's okay. he's happiest to spend quality time with you at home, where the two of you are free to do your own thing within eachother's presence. just being in your vicinity already makes him content, and so he plans everything around the two of you getting to explore and share your respective hobbies.

shua 𖹭 acts of service. need help with your taxes? need someone to fill up your tank? he's already on it. he'll say that these are all 'little things', call it the bare minimum, when it's apparent that he makes it a conscious effort to make your day-to-day easier. his brand of spoiling you comes in the form of quietly doing things that will improve your quality of life.

junhui 𖹭 buying clothes you'll like. he can't help it, really. when he sees an article of clothing that he thinks suits your style? when he finds a local brand that shares your advoacy? he's already pulling out his wallet. he likes the idea of dressing you up. nothing makes him happier than knowing you're wearing an outfit that he entirely picked out for you.

soonyoung 𖹭 daily reasons why he loves you. people always joke that he has a bit of a motormouth, so why shouldn't he use it on talking about you, you, you? he's big on words of affirmation, on making sure you never doubt how he feels for you. he'll point out the little and big things that make him adore you, and it's never the same reason twice.

wonwoo 𖹭 indulging your interests. he may not always understand these trends— blind boxes, must-have fashion pieces, et cetera— but he'll never make you feel bad about it. if there's anything that you want, he's already doing everything within his power to get it. his greatest joy is seeing your face light up once he's gotten you your 'priority' item; it's why he keeps doing it in the first place.

jihoon 𖹭 trying new things for you. there's a long list of things that jihoon never thought he'd do, but then he started dating you. time and time again, he willingly goes out of his comfort zone to accompany you on the little adventures and experiences that you ask to go on. he does these things scared, does them anxious, does them begrudgingly,— does them all for you.

seokmin 𖹭 meals he thinks you'll like. he's the type to have dozens of tabs open for homemade recipes dot com. he knows he's an amateur at this, but he's undeterred in trying. whether it's a trending pastry on tiktok or the comfort meal that your mother makes you, he's determined to learn it so you're always eating well.

mingyu 𖹭 getting-to-know card games. he gives as good as he takes, which means mingyu's way is to listen and remember. a night where the two of you can just have deep conversations with no interruptions is his ideal evening. he will know he succeeded if the two of you end up talking until the sun rises, feeling like the hours haven't passed at all.

minghao 𖹭 postcards from tour stops. he loves art and he loves you. his postcards are pocket-sized reminders of those facts, always packaged with a few choice words that are sweet and sincere. his trinkets are very "i-got-you-this-because-it-reminded-me-of-you" in nature, and you know each one was purchased with you at the front of mind.

seungkwan 𖹭 getting you your favorites. he figures he should put his industry connections to use somehow. he's always amused by how happy you get over a rare photocard, signed album, or concert tickets, and so he keeps it up. buying dozens of albums, contacting other labels, bearing the arduous ticketing. your excitement at the end of it makes it all worth it.

vernon 𖹭 producing songs. he hadn't really pegged himself as the making-music-for-the-sake-of-it type until he met you. now, he revels in getting to send you a track that's for your ears only. all the lyrics just seems to flow naturally when it's you inspiring him, and so he sends you works-in-progress with reminders that you're the only intended audience.

chan 𖹭 at-home massages. he's all too familiar with the aches of an ailing body, so he knows exactly how and where to work on you. he always does what he calls 'the works'— a good bath, scented candles, essential oils. he lets you take your time, and he takes his time with you in helping you unwind.

› scroll through all my work ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ my masterlist | @xinganhao

[darknight3904]

buy me presents, baby!

Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: The holiday season is packed enough as it is. On top of it all, Joel has a cute little girlfriend he just can't seem to resist spoiling...

Warnings: 18+ Explicit Smut Unprotected p in v, literally one spank, riding, missionary, Joel's a bit of a tease, pregnancy mention (no ones actually pregnant, don't worry) No outbreak au, modern au, viagra mention, unspecified age gap (mid/early-20s reader in mind), Rich older bf Joel!! I don't know how Hinge works sorry.

Word Count: 2.7k

Based on the song buy me presents by Sabrina Carpenter

Masterlist

The local mall was a buzz with what you swore was the entire state of Texas. Everywhere you turned, someone was brushing by you, mumbling an excuse me or just grunting an apology.

"Maybe we should just go home...There's so many people here." You say as you stand off to the side.

"Oh c'mon we drove all the way here, don't you wanna take a peek at some things, darlin'?"

Joel's warm southern tone sent a tingle of warmth down your spine. He was always so charming, that's how he won you over in the first place, his charm.

You'd stumbled across his Hinge profile six months ago. Your friend, Jess had jokingly set your profile to look for men over ten years older than you.

"Trust me, Dilfs are a whole different ballpark, girl!"

You hadn't believed her, after all, who would want some old half-bald, blue pill-taking man sitting across from them at dinner?

Things of course changed late one Wednesday night when Joel, 40 popped up on your screen. Not only did he have all his hair (and teeth!) but damn it he was so hot.

For lack of a better word, Joel was the perfect gentleman. He'd picked you up for your first date right at 7, opened all the doors for you, and even pulled your chair out for you to sit at the restaurant. Conversation had flowed so easily with him, that you'd almost forgotten you had just met the man across from you.

Fast forward a few months and here you were walking the mall with the head and Co-owner of Miller Construction Co. Joel's big hand cradled yours as he opened the door to Sephora.

"Said you needed some more of that lip balm you like right? Let's get it now."

You nodded and let him pull you into the store. He always did this, pulled you into stores so you could look at things. Of course, that wouldn't be a problem if he wasn't always buying half the things you picked up to admire. Hell, one time you were at Macy's with him and made a joke about the adult Spiderman onesie that was being sold, two days later it was sitting in your lap in just your size.

Jess had told you to enjoy it, to let him buy you everything your little heart desired but you couldn't help but feel guilty. You already spent most of your time sleeping at Joel's place, showering there, and eating his food. What were you even working for if you couldn't buy a measly lip balm for yourself?!

You pulled the one you wanted from the shelf. You'd run out a few days ago and your lips had begun to crack without it. Your eyes fell down to look at the price that was beside the scent

Twenty-four bucks?! That was nearly two hours of working at the shitty secretary job you had down at the local library! Whoever was setting prices at this company needed a serious reality check.

Joel's back was turned as he was staring at an array of brushes, mumbling that no one needed that many things for their face. Perfect! You could sneakily set this back on the display and-

"What're you doin'? Isn't that the one?"

Shit.

"Well yeah, but..."

"Then put it in the basket."

Joel's outstretched arm came up to present the little black and white basket he'd taken from a worker when the two of you entered.

"I just think that twenty-four bucks is too much for a little tube of lip balm. I think I'll just switch back to Carmex or Burts Bee's."

"Darlin' I'll buy it." Joel gave you a warm smile, "Let me spoil you."

"No way! You just bought me dinner!" You shake your head, thinking of your leftovers that sat in the backseat of his car.

"And now I wanna buy you a lip balm," Joel says taking it from your hands to put in the basket.

"Nope. We're not getting it." You say, pulling it from his hands and tossing it back on the shelf, "Let's leave."

Joel protests but lets you pull him from the store and back to the car.

Three days later...

Joel never liked shopping. He'd always been the kind of guy who bought the same shirt in multiple colors just because it made sense in his mind. Even when the company had taken off and he and Tommy were living comfortably instead of paycheck to paycheck, he hadn't really found an excuse to indulge and spend a lot of his hard-earned cash. Sure, he'd dropped a lot on a new car after his poor pickup truck had gotten rear-ended two years ago, damn teen drivers. Then, there was the new roof that his house needed last summer. But, both of those were easily paid off and Joel often found himself with a bank account higher than necessary.

It never bothered him, after all, it just meant retirement would come quicker, and if he ever had kids they'd have a lot of inheritance. Yes, Joel was happy living his simple lifestyle. Of course, that was until he met you...

You were just perfect in Joel's eyes. From the moment he saw you on that dating app Tommy had stuck on his phone, he'd known you were the one for him. Initially, he'd felt weird when he'd swiped on you, after all, you were so young compared to him. His fears though, they'd vanished the moment you started laughing at his lame jokes, adding your own even worse ones to the conversation. Yes, you were just perfect for him.

Now, it was December, the holiday season was in full swing and Joel found himself itching to spend some of that cash that'd been sitting in the bank for ages. He'd spent the last six months trying to keep the spending to a minimum, you always scolded him despite enjoying all of his gifts and he'd hate to make you feel uncomfortable. But after today when you'd put that little lip balm back on the shelf, he'd felt sad for you. Joel hadn't missed your small frown when it clattered back onto the display next to the others. You wanted that lip balm and, you were going to get that lip balm.

It was as if he was a man possessed. Three hours had passed since he'd walked into this mall and his arms were begging to feel a bit sore. Sure, he'd bought you the lip balm but before he knew it, he was wandering into all the other stores, looking for things that'd make you smile and cover his face in kisses. As he loaded the bags into the trunk a bit of worry crossed his mind. Had he gone overboard?

No, there definitely could be more...

December 25th, Christmas Morning at Joel Miller's

The warm scent of coffee had your eyes slowly pulling open. You groaned and pulled yourself out of bed, fumbling to pull Joel's shirt on before finding your discarded panties from last night. Whoever told you that older men needed Viagra to get it up clearly hadn't met Joel.

You padded down the steps to see Joel hunched over the stove, flipping pancakes while his beloved coffee maker brewed.

"Morning." You chirp, wrapping your arms around him, and resting your hands on his soft belly.

"Good morning." Joel's deep voice filled your ears

You greedily let your hands slip under the waistband of his plaid pajama pants. Joel lets out a hum and scoots away from you.

"Keep that up and we won't be eating or opening gifts til noon."

You roll your eyes and go to pour him his coffee.

After a delicious breakfast, Joel pulled you into the living room where your jaw nearly met the floor. Last night when you'd passed out in bed after the third round, there had been six presents under the tree, three from him and three from you. Now there had to be over triple that.

"What did you do?" You ask, spinning around to face Joel.

"What? I'm not allowed to spoil you?" Joel asks, a boyish grin on his face.

"It's like you bought the whole damn store and put it in your living room." You point out

"Not the whole store, just some of it." Joel laughs

Nearly an hour later, you were sitting in a pile of wrapping paper and bows.

"Alright, last one," Joel says, pulling a small gift bag with a snowman on it out.

You sigh in fake exhaustion, "Hand it over, cowboy."

Joel snorts and hands you the bag which a moment later you find has the lip balm you'd put back the other day.

"Went back and bought it for ya. Got a little distracted though..." Joel smiles

"Oh, only a little? Is that why there's lingerie and a new pair of boots sitting in boxes next to me?" You laugh, "Not to mention you even bought me a new frying pan."

"Yeah, just a little sidetracked s' all," Joel says, looking at the many different things he'd found for you.

"Thank you, Joel." You smile earnestly, "It's your turn now."

"Why don't ya model this for me, darlin'?" Joel asks, pushing the red babydoll dress towards you

"But what about your presents?" You pout, "I put a lot of thought into the one with the green paper."

"Give me a fashion show, it can be part of the gift." Joel coerces.

"Ugh, you're lucky you're hot, Joel." You huff, scooping the fabric up and heading off to the bathroom.

Joel lets out a long whistle as you reenter the living room, "Well, would you look at that?"

"Pervert." You scoff as he pulls you into his lap

"Not allowed to appreciate my girl?" He asks, pressing a kiss to your cheek

"You just wanted to see what my boobs looked like in red lace." You point out

Joel gives you a grin, busted.

"Nah, what makes you think that?"

Joel's lips capture yours and his hands secure themselves at your waist. Your resolve loosens as your hands curl against the soft skin of his chest.

"What about your presents?" You ask breathlessly when he pulls back

"Got everything I want right here." He says, "Let's go upstairs, this old man needs a bed if he's gonna fuck you silly."

Joel's hands are back on you the moment he kicks the bedroom door shut. His lips find yours again as his hands begin to pull the straps of your outfit off your shoulders.

Your back hits the mattress and one of Joel's big hands snakes down between your thighs.

"Still wet from last night." Joel laughs into the kiss

"Mmm, I think it was from earlier. Seeing you shirtless, cooking for me was hot." You admit

"Yeah? Y'like me cookin' for ya?" Joel asks

"Course, who wouldn't wanna see a hot old man cooking pancakes for them on Christmas?" You tease

Joel delivers a sharp slap to your inner thigh, "Not that old, darlin'."

"Sure you aren't."

You push at his shoulders and straddle him, loving the way his hands gently rest on your thighs.

You hum in delight as his hips lift and he pulls his pants off, finally exposing the rest of his body to your greedy eyes. Joel's lips ghost over your nipples, teasing them with his tongue as he lifts you up so he's notched at your entrance. Eager, you move to push him in but he stops you.

"What do ya say, baby?" Joel teases

"C'mon Joel..." You groan, "I want it."

"Ask nicely then," he clicks his tongue, "Go on,"

You huff a small breath of frustration and Joel's hands squeeze your hips.

"Please," You mumble

"What was that? This old man needs some help hearin' ya." Joel prods

"Please, fuck me, Joel." You groan, wiggling your hips as the head of his cock teases your hole.

"S' what I wanted to hear," Joel says, pressing a wet kiss to your neck

Joel's loud groan mingles with your girlish one as he lets you go to take him in. Your mind goes blank as your hips begin to rock. Joel's hands roam your body as he pinches and teases the sensitive flesh of your chest.

"C'mon girlie, give it to me." He encourages

"I'm trying." You huff, the feel of your burning thighs was slowing you down

A loud slap rings out followed by a yelp from your mouth. Joel's big hand rubs at the reddened mark on your soft skin.

"Don't worry, I gotcha, sweetheart, let me."

Your world turns as Joel lays you back down on the soft mattress, pushing your knees to your chest you're practically folded in half as he pushes in again.

"Fuck me..." Joel groans in pleasure above you.

"Already am." You laugh breathlessly

Joel shakes his head but you see the smile playing on his lips.

Rough thrusts steal your breath away as Joel begins moving his hips in earnest. The softness of his belly meets yours as he leans over you and presses his lips to yours. A hand pushes into the middle of your shared mess and a finger toys with your clit. A whimper escapes your lips as Joel groans when you tighten around him.

"Gonna let me come inside ya hmm? It'd be the perfect Christmas gift for me darlin'..."

Your brain is mush as Joel's finger plays with you while his cock relentlessly slams into you. Your stomach tightens as he continues.

"I-I'm gonna-"

"C'mon let it out, soak my fucking cock." Joel commands

As if he's magic your body yields to him and you come. A strangled groan leaves Joel's lips while your eyes slam shut.

"Good girl." Joel coos down at you, his hips never slowing.

"Joel!" You gasp, the pain of overstimulation beginning to ebb at your brain.

Joel lets out a soft moan of his own, his brow furred in concentration.

"Where?" He asks

"I-Inside" You gasp

Joel smirks, "Yeah? Gonna take it like a good girl? Let me knock ya up, pop out a brat for me in nine months?"

"Yes!" Your hips arch off the bed when his hand comes down to grind at your clit.

Joel's hips stutter against you and a loud moan escapes him as he fills you. Gentle thrusts follow as he comes down, dropping your legs as he does.

Joel flops down beside you on the bed, his chest heaves a bit as the two of you catch your breath.

"Y'okay?"

"Always." You say looking over at him with a dopey grin on your face

"Wanna go finish those pancakes?" Joel asks

You laugh, Joel was such a typical guy, thinking with his stomach, "You just fucked me and threatened to knock me up but your first thought is pancakes?"

"Well, I was gonna get a washcloth and clean ya up first, if that matters," Joel says

"Wow, what a gentleman." You scoff

"Glad you think so." Joel mumbles

You lay next to him in silence, listening to his breathing and watching his eyes flutter shut in satisfaction.

"What if we did?" You ask

"Did what?" Joel asks looking at you, "If you're talking about round two, I'll need a few more minutes, I'm not twenty anymore."

You slap his shoulder and roll onto your belly, "No, perv. I meant a baby. You were just talking about getting me pregnant."

Joel looks over at you like you've lost your mind, "Are you being serious right now?"

"Totally. You don't want a mini us running around?" You ask hopefully

"Course I do baby, didn't ever think a pretty young thing like you would want that with me though," Joel admits, pulling you towards him so you're resting partially on top of him

"Really Joel?" You scoff, "You're like the hottest guy in the world."

"Now you're just buttering me up." He laughs his head hitting the pillows behind him

"I'm serious!" You smile as he presses a gentle kiss to your lips

Soft silence flutters around you as you watch the gears turn in his mind.

"Gonna have to marry you if you start popping my kids out." Joel grins

"Of course," You laugh, "You think I'm gonna go into labor without a ring on my hand?"

Joel's nose brushes yours as he leans a bit closer to your face, practically breathing in your scent. His hand grasps yours where it rests on his chest.

"Guess I gotta start looking at jewelry then, darlin'. You're gonna have the prettiest ring in all of Texas."

"Ugh, there you go again, plotting to spend way too much money on me again." You groan in embarrassment.

Joel leans in and steals a kiss from you, the taste of pancakes and syrup lingers on his tongue as he does.

"Gotta humor me here," He smiles into the kiss, "Let me buy you presents, baby."

Consider this a mini-rant against the people behind the prices at Sephora. I'm looking at you Summer Fridays...

Want more Joel? Check out my series All Too Well.

[simplygojo]

Pussydrunk ⸺ Choso Kamo

author's note ⸺ Saw some crazy Choso art this morning and I know that the world can always use more Choso smut...so enjoy. Also yes-he does thank you for your pussy... pairing ⸺ Choso Kamo x reader teaser ⸺ '"You let out a breathy laugh and tilted your head slightly at him, “You’re thanking me? For letting you eat me out?” Choso gave you a goofy little grin, his face still buried in your legs as he responds with exaggerated sincerity. “Of course..."' content ⸺ 18+ SMUT, MDNI, pussydrunk choso, he is OBSESSED, cunnilingus, shy emo boy turned feral, oral sex (reader recv.), choso is such a nice boy he thanks u for ur pussy, he lovesss to eat you out but let a guy have hobbies!! overstimulation, reader has a vagina, reader uses female pronouns

materlist || request guidelines || commissions || discord channel

Choso is perfect. Too perfect—really. 

Your sweet, soft-spoken, emo boyfriend who always knows exactly what you need. The one who texts you to remind you to drink water, gets you your favourite snacks even when you don’t ask, and holds your hand like it’s the most sacred thing in the world. 

He’s calm, attentive, and gentle—everything anyone could want in a partner.

But there’s something about him—a hidden streak that surfaces only when you’re alone.

And only when he’s between your legs.

It’s almost comical how the man who blushes when you tease him in public—who can’t take compliments without fumbling for words, turns into someone so utterly unrestrained when he’s got his face buried in your cunt. 

Your shy, sweet Choso becomes something else entirely. Feral. Hungry. Completely pussydrunk.

It’s not just a casual thing for him—it’s a fixation, a need. 

The way his pupils blow wide whenever you start to undress or the way his hands unconsciously flex when you shift your legs apart? He’s thinking about it. How soft you’d feel, how warm and wet and impossibly sweet? Yep, he’s thinking about it…and he never tries to hide it.

It starts so innocently every time, just like it had tonight, his long fingers brushing your thighs as he kisses your inner knees. 

He whispers something tender, something like, “You’re so beautiful,” as his lips trace paths closer to where you’re desperate for him.

His words always make your cheeks flush, but before you can respond, he’s dipping his head lower, brushing his nose along the seam of your panties. 

You let out a quiet gasp, hips twitching when his tongue flicks out to trace the damp fabric.

“Already wet for me,” he says, and there’s something darker in his tone now—a hint of what’s to come. 

He hooks his fingers into the waistband, sliding your underwear down your legs with deliberate slowness, and his breath catches when you’re finally bare before him.

Then the first taste hits his tongue, and that’s it—Choso’s gone.

Your thighs barely get the chance to press around his head before his hands grip your hips, pulling you closer, deeper, so he can bury his face in your pretty cunt.

The first press of his tongue against your folds makes your back arch off the bed. 

Choso groaned like he’s the one being pleasured, and the sound vibrated against you, drawing a soft cry from your lips. His hands tighten on your hips, pulling you closer, and he buries his face in you like a man starved.

He alternates between teasing your clit with quick flicks of his tongue and plunging it back inside you, each movement pulling a new, breathless whimper from your lips.

The soft squelch of his mouth working on you made your thighs twitch, but Choso didn’t stop. 

If anything, he groans louder, the sound reverberating through your core as his tongue dips back down to your entrance. He licks into you slowly, savouring the way you tighten around the soft, wet muscle.

You try to push him back once you’re trembling, overstimulated from his relentless attention, but Choso isn’t having it.

“Just once more,” he breathed against your skin, dark eyes flicking up to meet yours. They’re glassy, unfocused—completely drunk on you. “Please, baby. Can’t stop. You taste so good.”

And how could you say no to that? To the way he’s looking at you like you’re the only thing in the world that matters? He is just so damn pretty. I–

His hands roam your thighs, holding them open as he devours you, sucking your clit between his lips and humming with satisfaction every time you cry out. 

When your fingers thread into his hair, pulling hard enough to make him hiss, he only doubles down, tongue thrusting into your heat like he’s trying to memorize every inch of you.

“Fuck,” he groans, pulling back just enough to catch his breath. His lips and chin are coated in your arousal as he looks up at you with his dark hooded eyes—absolutely pussydrunk.

He looked wrecked—flushed cheeks, mussed hair, chest heaving like he’s the one who just came—and yet, he’s still leaning forward, nuzzled against your thigh, leaving lazy kisses like he can’t help himself.

“You okay?” You’d ask, voice shaky, and his lips curl into a sheepish smile as he rests his cheek on your leg.

“More than okay,” he murmured, pressing a kiss just above your knee. “You’re perfect. Thank you for letting me do this baby..”

You let out a breathy laugh and tilted your head slightly at him, “You’re thanking me? For letting you eat me out?” 

Choso gave you a goofy little grin, his face still buried in your legs as he responded with exaggerated sincerity. “Of course. You’re like... a goddess, and I’m just the humble servant here, living the dream.”

You snort at his attempt to be dramatic, your hands running through his messy, dark hair. “Well, I’m glad to know you’re really living right now.”

He peeks up at you, giving you a wink that’s way too cocky for his usual shy self. 

“Absolutely. You have no idea how much this means to me,” he says, and you can’t help but giggle at its ridiculousness.

“Choso, you’re so extra sometimes.” You roll your eyes, but it’s obvious you’re enjoying it.

His lips curl into a grin again as he presses another kiss against your inner thigh. “What can I say? I don’t hold back. I’m committed, you know?”

You gave him a raised eyebrow. “Committed, huh? To eating me out?”

Choso nods earnestly. “Yes, baby. To you. This is my true calling.” He lets out a dramatic sigh and presses his face against your leg again like he’s contemplating his life choices.

You laugh out loud at his melodramatic antics, but before you can make another joke, he dives back in, his tongue moving expertly against your clit with a series of teasing strokes. 

And that is how you and your cutie-emo-pussydrunk man spent the next few hours…

[luvyeni]

⚔️… ( drabble ) never let you leave ! ୨୧ 一 이희승 ՞

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ ヾ

yandere!heeseung・ reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・fingering , manipulation wc ・ ‎0.8k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

request. y/n & heeseung are on a break from their relationship even though hee opposed SOOO to get her to come back he kindof stalks her & makes her feel unsafe so she asks him to come back & protect her .. . ??

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 im a little rusty with yandere i hope you like it !!!

he was too controlling, he never let you be; always calling when you were out with friends, or out at work — or just in general he was always calling. he did this under the premise of “there are bad people out there” or “im just trying to protect you.” you could take it anymore. so you broke up with him, told him you just needed space.

he didn’t take it well at first; and you expected that. he cried, begged you to stay; he said he couldn’t live without you — that probably would’ve worked in the beginning, but you were tired. “i don’t even feel safe with you anymore heeseung, being with you scares me more than anything now.” and with that you left him.

he left you alone after that; you didn’t even see him anymore, in fact you didn’t see him for almost a month after that. his friends said all he did was stay home and play games, which made you sad, but this was for your happiness, so you couldn’t just back down. “as long as he gets the help he needs i wish him nothing but the best.”

heeseung in fact wasn’t getting the help he desperately needed. in fact he was getting worse, he was dying without you; he felt like he couldn’t breathe because he wasn’t near you — well not as close as he wanted to be.

you began to feel it a month later; you let your guard down, and that’s when you began to feel like you were being watched. you tried to ignore it, but it was hard when it was all the time, even in your apartment. you began to close the blinds. but that didn’t work, you felt like you were exposed in your own house.

“it’s heeseung isn’t it?” you friend said, you shook your head, quick to defend the boy. “no jake said he’s getting help.” what you didn’t know is that heeseung was always one step ahead of you, watching you. waiting for you. he saw your every move; even in your home with the cameras he installed.

you couldn’t take it anymore; you felt like you were going insane and nobody believed you, they thought you were just exhausted from work or something. “you just need sleep.” how could you sleep if you felt like someone was watching you!

you began to think maybe heeseung was right, maybe he was the only one that could protect you. maybe the world was too dangerous for you. which is why you found yourself knocking on his door. “poor baby.” he saw your tired state. “you look so tired.” he smiled to himself as you let yourself in. “i can’t sleep, i can’t go out alone, im scared someone will hurt me.” you rushed to say. “didn’t i tell you that?” he said. “you didn’t listen, now look.”

you wrapped your arms around him, and he wanted to hug you back; but he had to teach you a lesson — don’t ever think about leaving him again. “hee im so tired.” you looked up at him with those eyes. “yeah?” he said. “let’s get you to bed then.”

he guided you back to his room, laying you down on his bed. “please don’t go.” he smiled, laying next to you. “im not.” his hand was resting on your stomach. “i won't go anywhere.” his hands now moving. “you can just stay here with me.” you moaned softly. “heeseung.” he kissed the side of your head. “you don’t even have to go out, i’ll make all the money and spend it on you.” he said cupping your heat. “fuck you’re so wet.”

you couldn’t believe you fell for again, allowing his fingers to explore your insides like before. “you missed me?” you nodded. “use your fucking words.” he growled. “missed the the way i held and protected you.” he said. “the way i fucked you?” his fingers curled, hitting the spot that made you moan. “fuck hee please keep going , i need you.” you cried out. “need you so bad.”

he sped up, your hips following his movements. “you’re mine, everything you do is because i give you permission to.” you’d complain if he wasn’t fucking your open with his fingers. “you understand, you’re mines, your body is mine, your mind is mine?” you were desperate, ready to cum. “fuck yes hee im yours.” you screamed. “i’ll never leave again i promise.”

that was all he needed, before he whispered into your ear. “cum.” and it was like your body was finally at peace, your mind too. “hee.” your breathing was heavy from your orgasm, eyes heavy from your long exhaustion. “shh, go to sleep.” he said. “when you wake up we can handle me okay.” he held you softly in his arms. “im fine holding you just like this.” you slowly drifted off to sleep in what you thought was the safest place at the moment — but you couldn’t be far from wrong.

because you in fact were sleeping right in the arms of the reason you were feeling so unsettled and by time you woke up you wouldn’t be able to do anything about it… you gave yourself to him.

you were his now, all his and was never gonna share you again…

©️LUVYENI

[ceesimz]

Evergreen

Glimpses of your relationship. (Autistic Reader)

Reverie series can be found here. This is structured differently than the rest, it's multiple blurbs in one that I've written over time, which has definitely made it unnecessarily long but it's super light-hearted and fluffy so hopefully it's worth it

Being in a committed, serious relationship was new to you. You had dated, and… that was about it. That’s as far as things had gone in the past. 

Yet, here you were, making your way through the airport after spending Christmas back home in ice cold, snowy Norway, a small smile on your face at the thought of the person waiting to pick you up and take you home.

It was a strange adjustment, that was for sure, but a very welcome one. Having someone at your side felt… comforting. Knowing you could go to her for anything at any time was comforting. However, sometimes it worried you that you had to commit your every day to her. Not in the sense that you couldn’t settle down with her and her only, no way. Instead, you were anxious about the fact that there were times you needed your alone time, where you needed the world to quieten down a little to give you the space you needed to regulate yourself. Would Alexia understand that? Or would it irritate her that sometimes the only thing she’d get from you was radio silence?

In the end, you didn’t need to worry for even just a second. As a matter of fact, you found that peace in Alexia’s company. Not all the time of course, that wasn’t entirely realistic and time alone was still something you needed, just… less often. You wanted to spend everyday with her, even when you were mentally exhausted or burnt-out and so stressed you feared your hair would turn grey. 

You hadn’t planned to fall in love within mere months of living in Barcelona, nor had you expected to fall for a teammate. However, sometimes the most surprising things end up being the best. You adored Alexia and all that she was, especially when she demanded that she drop you off and pick you up from the airport and left no room for arguing. 

The sight of her waiting for you as you walked out of the arrivals door was worth the ten days of torture being away from her. There was no way in hell you could have controlled the shy, excited grin on your face as you wandered over to her.

She didn’t hesitate in holding her arms out when you got closer, an equally sheepish smile greeting you before you stepped into her space. The blonde let out an audible sigh of relief when her chin landed on your shoulder, holding you tightly against her whilst your hands slipped underneath the puffer jacket she wore and landed on the small of her back atop her sweater. For a few moments, the pair of you indulged in the comfort of the other after going so long without it. Hundreds of people passed by you as you did, each of them nothing more than a fleeting stranger with a life as complex as your own, yet your interest in their stories and the lives they led paled in comparison to the all-consuming feeling of Alexia’s embrace. 

Despite how you had technically just gone home, back to Norway where you grew up with all your family around you, that reuniting hug was… something more. Something deeper. You couldn’t quite put your finger on what it was about it.

“How are you? How was the flight?” She murmured quietly, pressing her lips to your coat-covered shoulder before leaning back and gazing down at you.

“Tired. My mind is frazzled.” Alexia scrunched her nose at the unfamiliar phrase, and though she had never heard it before, she seemed to understand what you meant by it. You smiled at her as she did it, finding it much more adorable than you'd ever care to admit.

“Let's get you home, eh? With… with me? I stay?” She asked, wanting nothing more than to fall onto the sofa with you and lay there for the rest of her days.

“Yes, god yes. I missed you.” You told her. The blonde chuckled softly and pulled you back in, this time with her cheek resting against your forehead as you nuzzled your nose against her jaw.

“Sí, I will stay with you. Por supuesto.” Alexia said in a whisper, her lips pressing a kiss to your temple. “I missed you too. It was so strange without you.”

“How so?” You wondered, content to stay there in her arms with the warmth of her drowning out the cool chill of the terminal.

“I was sad. Whenever I had some free time, I went to ask if you wanted to come over or I go to you or we have food together or something. But you weren't here and then I was sad. I'm never sad.” You giggled at the last statement, because despite staying in touch whilst you were gone with both calls and texts frequently throughout the day, it was nowhere near the same as being there in person. You understood exactly what she meant.

“Don't be silly, you're the most popular person in Barcelona. You know everyone there somehow, nevermind the thousands of fans too.” 

“Maybe, but none of them are you.” 

Your first instinct was to roll your eyes at her statement, which made her grin, but it did something to you. To you and your heart, to the butterflies in your stomach.

“Calla, Ale.” You shook your head, though spoke with a sheepish gratitude to your voice and a weakness to your knees that had her laughing quietly.

“I am being serious. I wanted you to have an amazing time at home but I wanted the days to go fast so I could see you again.” 

Her hand that landed on your cheek stopped you from turning away from her out of embarrassment at her sweet words, and you barely had a moment to scold her before she leaned down and finally kissed you. Each of you were overcome with a sense of relief, of yearning, of adoration, yet there was one stand-out thought which you both had– there was no way you could go that long without it again. And for Alexia, well, she also knew there was never another person in the world that could make her feel the way you did with just one kiss. It broke off sooner than you wanted, simply because not one of you could stop smiling.

“Take me home now?” You said, gazing at her as she blinked at you a couple times before snapping back into the reality. You giggled, spotting the exact moment she came out of her thoughts, which were overflowing with you, and nodded.

In moments like this, it was hard to believe that you were hardly three weeks into the relationship. Yet, if this was what three weeks had in store for you, you couldn’t wait to see what a lifetime held.

There was a bit of that playful back and forth that you adored when she took your suitcase from you, arguing something to do with being a gentlewoman, and you let her. Who were you to resist her? Dumb, that’s for sure. So she wheeled your bag to her parked car, your hand grasping onto her upper arm, in a comfortable silence. With it, came quiet excitement that formed between you, only now processing the fact you were back in each other’s company and had the next few days to spend time together before training started up again. 

Nothing could have prepared you for the complete and utter domesticity that took over your apartment when you stepped foot inside again. 

Firstly, it started with Alexia heading to the kitchen whilst you went to your bedroom to drop off your bags and unpack the main things from your backpack. Unbeknownst to you, while you were out of the country, Alexia had borrowed Ingrid's key to your flat so that she could organise a few small surprises she hoped you would appreciate. And appreciate them you did.

Just as you were beginning to feel a little overwhelmed at the thought of all the chores that coming back from a vacation had to offer, the door to your room creaked open and in walked your girlfriend with a mug of your favourite hot chocolate in her hand. With a disbelieving smile on your face, you happily accepted it, placing a grateful kiss to her check as your silent way of thanking her.

And as if it couldn't get any better, with a quiet, loving murmur, the blonde persuaded you to leave your bags until tomorrow, not afraid to admit that she would much rather spend the evening in your arms than to see you add to your own stress by trying to get everything organised straight after a flight. You were glad to take her up on her advice because you walked into your lounge to a coffee table filled with surprises. A fresh bouquet of flowers, a new candle, the softest looking blanket you might have ever seen, one of Alexia's folded-up hoodies, and a small gift-wrapped box. You felt overwhelmed, but this time in the best way possible – because you felt wholly and completely loved, even if the pair of you hadn't said that specific word yet.

The only thing you could do to repay such kindness was by granting her wish of doing nothing but cuddling with you on the couch. So you did exactly that. With Alexia's hoodie on, which you realised was her favourite, you both lay down on the sofa and got comfy. Your head was on her chest, tucked perfectly under her chin, with the new blanket that exceeded your softness expectations covering you both, and the most adorable Christmas tree decoration hanging off a pine branch in the corner of the room. According to her, Alexia had chosen it whilst at the Christmas markets, seeing the beautifully crafted glass decoration and thinking of you. Though, she also went on to admit that she thought of you all of the time, hence why she had bought multiple small gifts for you whilst you were gone.

Neither of you planned to fall asleep, but it seemed that had been the case when Alexia woke up some time later, you still on top of her and sleeping. She glanced at her phone and her heart dropped when she saw the time. You hadn't spent the night together at this point of your relationship, yet here the midfielder was, still on your couch at 1am. 

Maybe it was slightly unfair of her, but she would have truthfully done anything to stay in that moment, with you completely at peace lay on top of her. So she lingered for a minute or two, one hand on the back of your head as the other slipped under her jumper and softly trailed her fingertips up and down your warm skin. She closed her eyes and rested for just a second, before letting out a slightly stifled sigh and raising her head from where she had laid back. She gazed down at you, your cheek slightly smushed against her chest and your lips parted as you let out small breaths every so often, and did her best to memorise the sight for herself.

“Cariño.” She whispered, gently nudging your shoulder to wake you up so she could leave. If it was up to her, she would just slip out quietly and not wake you, but she knew the anxieties that would most likely cause for you and that was the last thing she wanted. “Wake up, cari. Por favor.”

“Shh. Sleep.” You grumbled, burying your face further into her neck and pulling the blanket tighter around you.

“No, mi amor.” Alexia chuckled softly, which only had you groaning. “Sorry. I have to go, it's the middle of the night.”

“Just stay, Ale.” You told her. Now that, she wasn't expecting. And if you weren't toeing the line between awake and asleep, you probably wouldn't have said it either.

“S…stay?” She repeated, though got no response from you. “Wake up, wake up. Just for a minute while I go.”

You reluctantly opened your eyes then, if only to frown when you lifted your head up to look at her properly.

“Why do you want to leave?” You asked in a slightly anxious mumble, those worries that Alexia wanted to avoid appearing anyway. To quell them quickly, she cupped your cheek and leaned forward to kiss your forehead.

“Because we haven't spent the night together yet and I don't want to cross any boundaries. This is your space, I don't want to intrude and overstay my welcome.” She answered sincerely, gazing at you so softly that had you been standing, your knees would have surely buckled. 

Those three words were so close to slipping out then, but you feared it was too early and you didn't want to scare her away just as you'd gotten her back. She kept you and your needs in mind at all times- not an overbearing amount, instead in a way where she somehow always knew the moment it was necessary for her to voice her willingness to cater for them. You'd known each other for a number of months now, so she had come to know you well, but it still caught you off guard how thoughtful and caring she was. Other than Ingrid, you weren't sure you had ever come across someone outside of your family that treated you so... perfectly. So normally. It was second nature for the Spanish woman at this point, and that meant the world to you.

“Ale.” You breathed out quietly, shaking your head slightly. She frowned at your reaction, and you couldn't help the sleepy giggle that left your throat. “I would really, really love it if you stayed over. Only if you want to, though.”

Your hair was no doubt a mess from being asleep, you could feel how flushed your cheeks were, and the material of Alexia's t-shirt was probably imprinted on one side of your face. Despite this, Alexia still looked at you like you were the only person in the world.

“If you are happy with it, I would love to stay over. I couldn't think of anything better than waking up in the morning to you.” Her words had you blushing, as they often did, and in your shy embarrassment, you ducked your head down to hide the beaming smile on your face. You lifted it back up only a second or two later when you heard Alexia yawn above you, the pair of you bursting into loud, hearty laughter afterwards.

Together, even with your fingers intertwined for the very short journey, you headed to your bedroom. Alexia perched on the edge of the bed as you searched your wardrobe not only for yourself, but your girlfriend too. You turned around with a pair of shorts for you, more than happy to keep on the jumper of hers you wore, as well as a sweater and another pair of shorts for Alexia. However, she looked at you like there was something she was holding back when you went to hand over the clothes.

“I don’t… usually sleep with shorts or trousers on.” She admitted with an amusingly bright shade of pink to her cheeks. Even the tips of her ears had changed colours.

“That’s fine, Ale, you can sleep in whatever you want. Long as you’re comfy.” You told her, giggling at the small sigh of relief she let out as you put her shorts back into the drawers.

“I did not want to make you feel uncomfortable or anything. Thank you for this.” She smiled up at you before standing. 

There was a miniscule moment of awkwardness where the two of you felt like teenagers at a sleepover, worrying about changing in front of each other, until Alexia turned so that her back was to you and began to unbutton and unzip her jeans. You turned too, not without a coy grin on your face, and quickly got changed, as did Alexia.

“Can I turn now?”

“Are you finished?” 

You asked at the same time, laughing together once more whilst moving to face each other again. Alexia took in the sight of you in her jumper, the small detail making her heart skip with joy around her chest, and you shook your head at the fondness she admired you with as you tried not to look at the rather substantial amount of skin on show from the woman across from you. She looked adorable, in just her underwear and a sweater with slightly tousled hair. It was such a contrast to the person you saw on the pitch, and so what if you secretly, not-so-secretly loved the fact that you were the only one in the world that saw this dimension of her multifaceted persona?

“What side do you prefer?” You wondered, gesturing to the bed behind you.

“Which side?” Alexia scrunched her nose in confusion like she did back at the airport, and still you found it just as endearing. 

“Yeah, like do you prefer being closer to the door or to the window?” 

“Oh! I do not mind, cariño, you can pick.” You let out a dramatic breath at her decision, then immediately clambered under the covers, making Alexia smile. “So you like the window?”

“I do. I like being able to look out every morning, the sunrise wakes me up.” You answered her curiosity, and it was simply another fact which she stored away. She had a number of them memorised by now, but she hoped she could learn every single one. 

“Do you, um… like to cuddle? When you sleep?” The blonde murmured a little shyly, lay on her back with her head turned to you. You had a feeling, from the sheepishness in her tone, that there was a certain answer she was hoping for. When you answered, you couldn't help the small, excited smile on your face.

“I think I do.” 

At your response, she moved onto her side, her accent thick when she quietly demanded that you roll over away from her. Once you had, you hid your face in your pillow when she shuffled up close to you, her chest to your back. Were you sure you weren’t asleep? Because when her arm slipped around your waist and hugged you tight back against her, you were convinced you were dreaming.

But, of course, you always had something to say.

“Do you sleep with socks on?” You hummed curiously into the quiet room.

“Sí..? Why?”

“That’s so strange, Ale.” You commented, goosebumps rising on your skin with the huff she let out against your neck.

“Vete a dormir, idiota.” She grumbled, though you knew she was smiling, it came through so clearly in her voice.

You woke up first the next morning. You weren’t used to sharing a bed, so you didn’t sleep too great, but waking up to Alexia snuggled close to you with her head half on your pillow and an arm wrapped around your body to ensure you didn’t move from her hold, it was so worth it. Even if she called you a worm for the rest of the day, droning on and on about how wriggly you were overnight. This time, when she teased you, you could see the smile on her face as she did so, you didn’t have to assume she had a grin like the previous night. With how the first night went, you thought about your future with a smile on your face, now knowing that mornings were so much better than ever before when you woke up to Alexia’s grumpiness and her tendency to cling onto anytime you tried to leave the bed.

—

Just because you hated your own birthday, that didn’t mean you disliked other people’s birthdays. In fact, for the people closest to you, you relished the opportunity to meticulously plan for them and show them exactly how loved they were.

“Ale, I mean it. Don’t you dare show up early.” 

February 2nd was of course your girlfriend's birthday. It was a morning training session that day, which was honestly quite lucky, and after some celebrations there with the club, you two were going your separate ways. Alexia had plans with some of her close-knit circle of friends from her hometown, whilst you were finishing up organising everything for when she came over to your place afterwards.

You had your arms crossed and eyebrows raised as you looked at her in warning where you stood at the driver's side window of her car. She had a smug grin on her face, like she wasn't listening to a thing you were saying.

“What if I just want to see you, mi amor?” She argued cheekily, but you scoffed.

“Well, I'm right here, telling you to NOT show up early.” 

“But I'm early to everything! Early is on time, on time is-”

“On time is late, late is what the hell is the point of being alive, yes I know you, Alexia.” You jabbed a finger into her chest, smiling at the toothy grin she responded with. “But this is your birthday and I have everything planned down to a T, if you're early then I'm just going to kick you out and make you sit outside in the corridor until it's the right time.”

There was a tight schedule for the day, one you were not going to break. Alexia may try her damn hardest but her determination isn't going to win out this time, because yours is stronger. 

She was going to spend the afternoon with her closest friends, the people that she knew she wouldn't be where she was now without them, whilst you had an intense few hours of cooking. Yes, hours. Cooking historically wasn't your favourite thing in the world, you were a pair that did not get along, but with a few tips and lessons from Alexia's mother, you had nearly perfected one dish that you knew Alexia would die for. Hopefully she wouldn't have to resort to such extremities as long as you keep to your timetable and she doesn't ruin that.

“Oh my god!” You suddenly exclaimed as your phone vibrated in your pocket, your alarm telling you to get home ASAP going off at that particular moment. “I need to go! You’re going to make me late!” 

Before Alexia could even blink, you had kissed her cheek and turned to head back to your car. But she wasn’t allowing that.

“Oye! Ven aquí, engel.” She sounded serious and a little strict then, you had no choice but to turn around and walk back towards her skeptically. You stood about a foot away from her door, though she beckoned you over with a wave of her hand and raised an eyebrow when you only shuffled a tiny bit. “Ven aquí.”

You rolled your eyes at her and did as she said, though your attitude didn’t stay for long when she pinched your cheeks together with one hand and leaned up to leave a lingering, firm kiss to your pouted lips that momentarily turned your brain to mush. After she pulled back, she chuckled a little menacingly at the daze she left you in, until you blinked out of whatever not so PG thoughts you’d fallen into and back to the present. 

“Don’t distract me!” You groaned, pushing her face away gently with your palm. “Have fun with your friends, I’ll see you later. At the right time, Ale!”

Fortunately for you, she did show up on ti- well, two minutes early actually, but you were running ahead of schedule thanks to the gracious extra time you gave yourself in case anything did go wrong. Some things… did go wrong, but all were salvageable, and now you had the most beautiful aroma of slow-cooked, completely homemade (apart from the actual pasta) shredded beef ragu pasta circling throughout your apartment, and if you didn’t say so yourself, it could definitely pass as a Michelin star meal.

However, out of all the outcomes you had thought of for that night, there was one that you never could have prepared yourself for.

“You reek of wine.” Was the first thing you said when you opened the door to your pink-cheeked, suspiciously happy girlfriend. You scrunched your nose up at the distinct scent coming from her, or actually it was probably just your hypersensitivity to most smells, whilst Alexia beamed at you from her place rooted in the doorway.

“Hola, guapisima.” The blonde grinned, reaching her arms out and making toddler-esque grabby hands at you, otherwise known as asking for a hug in sober language. 

Your first thought, as you leaned in, was one of anxiety and stress, since you didn’t exactly plan to deal with a wine drunk Alexia for the first time especially with it being her birthday. But then, she hummed almost like a happy cat purring when you wrapped your arms around her, and she seemed relaxed and happy in a different way than you had seen so far. Thankfully she didn’t seem too drunk, maybe just a bit tipsy, and as you held her you giggled at the way she nuzzled her nose into the skin just below your jawline.

“You had fun then? With your friends?” You wondered as you ran a hand up and down her jumper clad back.

“Mhm.” She lifted her head up and smiled at you. You looked in her eyes, and found nothing but carefree and utter contentment swirling around there. It did something to your heart then, a feeling akin to relief and pride settling over you at how at peace she seemed to be in your company. Even if that was assisted by the alcohol in her system. “So happy to be with you now. I waited all day.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Softie.” You teased, giggling at how she tutted in disapproval at your comment and raised an eyebrow at you. “Feliz cumpleaños.”

“Tusen takk.” Alexia grinned in turn, her eyes creasing in the corners. “Ves? I am not early. I am at the right time and hungry, so let me in.”

“No.” You said just as she went to move past you. You tightened your arms around her waist so that she couldn't move, and she frowned grumpily as a result. “You're two minutes early, actually.”

“Vale.” She sighed, giving up the fight much easier than you expected, which only raised your suspicions further. “You cooked, sí? Mami said you were cooking a big meal?”

“I did, it's almo-” You were right to be wary of her behaviour, as her hands slipped down to the back of your thighs and she hoisted you up into her arms, catching you off guard. You pushed the door shut behind her before she walked away, only just managing to reach it over her shoulder as she started walking through your flat. “Ale! What are you doing?!”

Not that she made it too far before she almost sent the two of you flying down to the floor when she bumped into the set of drawers near the entryway.

“Be careful! How much did you drink?” You scolded lightly, grabbing onto the door frame that led into the kitchen to steady yourselves. 

“Hmm… does it matter?” She answered, curving the question with a smile on her face before the smell of food cooking caught her attention.

“No, you can’t be in here yet! Put me down, get out!” You panicked slightly at how the surprise would have been ruined as she went to head over to the stove, though it was instantly relieved when Alexia stopped in her tracks and lowered you back down to the floor with a grumble. “You can’t know yet, I need to serve it up. Go sit at the table and wait, please behave. No funny business.”

“I will stay here and behave and watch you.” The midfielder compromised, and with a defeated sigh, you nodded and got started with the final steps of the evening. 

“You're so weird.” You muttered, turning to glance back at her where she leaned back against the wall with her hands clasped behind her like a bored, young child when she clicked her tongue in disapproval.

“Not weird.” She grumbled, giving up on standing around and waiting, instead wandering over to stand beside you, drooling at the food you'd prepared until something caught her eye. “What is this?”

She picked up the piece of paper she saw and read through it – albeit with slightly blurred vision – and felt a wave of adoration wash over her.

“Oh, it's the… timetable I wrote for myself tonight. So I didn't forget anything.” You replied sheepishly, opting out of facing the blonde in case her and her unpredictable drunken antics decided to tease you for it.

You knew it might be a little weird to anyone else that you'd make such a detailed outline for the evening, but it was something you had always done and it hadn't failed you thus far. It was very meticulous, with timings for food and reminders of tiny things you didn't want to forget and when you could get ready for her arrival as the dinner cooked without it ruining the process. 

Though, Alexia didn't think it was weird or unusual. To her, it was just another glimpse into your mind and how it worked, and she treasured it anytime she got to see that. She was sure, when you weren't looking and didn't need it anymore, she'd slip it into her pocket and keep it as a memory. Sure it might just be a lined bit of paper ripped out of the nearest notebook with scribbled notes that only you could understand, but for Alexia it was a sentimental souvenir that represented so much more than just a nice evening together. Making sure everything went perfect and was well organised that night was one of your many ways of demonstrating your love for her and how deep it ran.

“I really appreciate you setting up this evening for us.” Alexia began quietly, resting her chin on your shoulder and wrapping an arm loosely around your waist as her hand found its place on your hip. “Mi novia bonita. You are the best.” 

“I'm sorry we aren't going out or doing anything fancy.” You mumbled insecurely, suddenly shrinking in on yourself and allowing the doubts to come in. 

Alexia might be here with a smile on her face, but would she have been happier elsewhere? An actual Michelin star restaurant with a girlfriend that could handle more than half an hour in such an environment? Dressed up to the nines and paying a bill of, at the very least, three digits rather than putting up with a haphazard home-cooked meal and a night in?

“Why you say that?” Alexia frowned, gently taking the dish you were holding as well as the ladle in your other hand and putting them both down for the time being. She put the lid back on the pot so that the food didn't cool too much, before urging you to face her with her hand moving to your shoulder. “Why, when I think this is the perfect way to spend my birthday?”

“Because other years you've had parties and nights out, you've told me all about them and the dinners you've had and stuff. This is just… nothing compared to all those. But it's all I can give you and it doesn't feel like enough. I just… I tried my best though.” 

The words come out thick and fast with little warning, revealing stresses that you'd carried on your shoulders for days since you came up with the idea for this night. You tried to disguise them, whenever Alexia asked previously you what was up you shrugged her off, but of course it was now of all moments that you spilt all you felt. 

“No. No, no, no.” Alexia said, her eyebrows pressed down into a scowl of determination, which you took as anger.

“I am sorry, Alexia, I did try my b-”

“And your best is so much more than I could wish for.” She cut you off in a firm voice, her hands on either side of your neck as her thumbs under her chin tilted your head up to face her. “It is more than enough. I see what you have done here for me and I see you. Not what you can't do. Those other things for my birthday, they were more for my family and my friends to enjoy. I liked them, but… there is a reason I didn't want to do all that this year and it's not because of you. It's because it's not what I want, but you know what I want, and I know that because you've planned this night and it is perfect for me.”

With her flushed cheeks and slightly tousled hair from… well, from what you weren't sure though it probably had the same reasonings as the red tinge to her cheeks, but it was her wide eyes that really tied off the slightly manic appearance of her. Like, if you didn't believe everything she said, she might go on a tipsy rampage against everyone that had done you so wrong it had led to your current doubtful mindset. 

Your hands were clasped in front of you, fidgeting as you processed her words which had been a little unexpected. Perhaps a drunk Alexia wasn't such a worrying thing like you thought it might be.

“A… are you sure? I mean, I d-” 

“Spending time with the woman I love? She cooks an amazing meal for me? And it is just us, nobody else?” She interrupted you again, a soft smile on her face as her thumbs carefully caressed the soft skin of your cheeks. “I love that, cariño, I really have been so excited all day. Please, never… belittle yourself over what you can't do, when everything that you are doing is more than good enough for everybody around you. Nobody loves like you do and I feel very lucky to be the one that gets all you have to give.”

Definitely not as bad as you feared.

“You…” Speechless, you trailed off and shook your head. So you leaned in and hugged her, because there was very little you could say to repay her for her thoughtfulness other than- “I love you.”

“I love you too, mi amor.” Alexia hummed into your ear, swaying you both on the spot before her temporarily depleted attention span averted back to the pasta that was calling her name. “I also love pasta so please let me eat now. Two minutes have passed, no?��� 

There was a grin pressed against the skin of your neck as you lightly hit her back for her comment. That night with Alexia was just another example of how well she truly knew you, unlike anyone you'd ever met. And that pride from earlier? It returned as you say across from her at the dinner table, a rich amount of pasta dished up in front of you both, because she said you knew her too. You knew her too. 

As it turned out, your cooking skills far surpassed Alexia's expectations, nevermind your own. She may have been a tiny bit worried considering the few but memorable occasions of you trying to cook for her, so she'd have to thank her mother in a very generous way, because it might have been one of the best things she'd ever been served. When the midfielder slumped back in her chair, the button to her trousers undone after stuffing her face with a week’s worth of pasta, her eyes never steered away from you.

You weren't doing anything of note, you were simply loading the dishwasher up with the plates and cutlery and whatnot that you'd used that day. Yet, for your girlfriend, there was so much love blooming through her chest she had no idea what to do with it apart from gaze at you like you were the one who had invented football.

“Your presents are in my bedroom by the way. I, um… may have gone a bit overboard.” You admitted shyly as you went to go back to your chair, though you were stopped in your tracks when an arm curved around your waist and pulled you down to sit on Alexia’s lap.

“Your bedroom?” She said lowly, a glint in her eyes that were solely focused on your lips. You blushed, knowing exactly what was on her mind, having come to recognise the pattern in her behaviour when she wanted… something in particular. You dragged the whole thing out, knowing it only ended in one way, but where’s the fun in that?

“Mhm.” You nodded, your heart rate speeding up a tad at how she smirked afterwards.

“Vaya, qué conveniente, no?” Alexia murmured, leaning in so that your noses brushed together and your lips were millimetres apart. At her teasing, you tried to resist the bashful smile but Alexia saw it for a split second before you could repress it. “Bueno. Vamos.”

In an instant, she was up from her seat with you in her arms, one strict destination in her mind with one very likeable goal. 

“Ale, I just had a giant bowl of pasta!” 

“No me importa, mi amor.” She sang, before kicking the bedroom door shut behind you both.

—

From an outsider’s perspective, your relationship seemed just as perfect as it was in your point of view. Didn’t take a genius to recognise that; five minutes with you and Alexia, anyone could see how much you valued each other.

“-and then my mother rang Mapi, like actually called her, just to see if I was lying. They teamed up on me, snuppa, my mother and my girlfriend. Over soup.” 

“That is… you got yourself into that mess, Ingrid. I can’t comment. Can’t take sides.”

Just like it had been ten years ago, back home in Norway in a tiny hotel in Oslo, you and Ingrid were sharing a room for an away game. There had been training, dinner, and now it was downtime where everybody could choose what they wanted to do. With Alexia at the press conference and Mapi… doing whatever Mapi did, you and Ingrid settled for a relaxed night in, though the movie you’d landed on was long forgotten in the background.

“You just took a side. Unbelievable.” The dark-haired woman sighed, shaking her head in disappointment. You grinned, lay on your side on your bed as Ingrid painted her nails across from you on hers.

It was peaceful and just what you wanted it to be, some time alone with your second favourite person in your life where you could just exist in each other’s company. Unfortunately, though to nobody’s surprise, it didn’t last long.

“Buenas noches.” Alexia smiled as she walked in, somehow having acquired a keycard to your room.

“What are you doing here?” You asked in confusion, not expecting to see her for the rest of the evening since you weren’t sharing a room.

“Oh, what a lovely greeting.” She scoffed jokingly, disregarding the fact you were midway through a conversation and flopping down onto the space next to you. The blonde lay on her stomach, face turned into your back as an arm flung around your waist. And she just stayed there.

With a glance at Ingrid, who shrugged her shoulders, you rolled your eyes at your girlfriend’s antics before the pair of you slipped back into conversation like nothing had happened. Alexia piped up every now and then, but for the most part, she remained quiet and just relished in your company. 

Ingrid hadn’t seen these sides to either of you, ever.

It was something small, you and Alexia didn't even exchange a word, but there was a smile on your face as you chatted with Ingrid that the defender didn't see much until Alexia came into your life. Still, it was big enough for her to come to a realisation. Two, actually.

First, that you were happy with Alexia, which made her beam with joy for you and feel extra grateful for Alexia. The second, though, was something she had hoped would happen the minute she caught wind of the transfer rumours. You were completely, genuinely, whole-heartedly happy with your life at Barcelona. And in Barcelona too of course, but you weren't currently in the city at that moment, you were halfway across the country, so. But her point still stood.

However, no matter how much she valued your happiness, she could get to that another time. For now, she wanted-

“I want to go to sleep now.” She decided, zipping up the bag in which she kept all her nail stuff for when she travelled, looking at the two of you on the bed and noting the puzzled expression on your face.

“Then go to sleep, Ingrid, nobody is stopping you.” Alexia chuckled behind you at that, quickly leaving a kiss on the back of your neck before sitting up. 

“No, she is trying to tell me to get out.” She yawned, sharing a smile with Ingrid at your misunderstanding.

“Oh. Well, get out then. You’re not even supposed to be here.” Ingrid grinned at your reply that had Alexia frowning, not expecting you to go against her.

“You’re supposed to be on my side, cari.” She argued, nudging your knee.

“Ask Ingrid. I don’t take sides. The only side I’m on is the right side of justice.” Ingrid bursted out laughing at that and you had to stifle your own, though you did smile at the unimpressed but amused look on Alexia’s face. “Take it up with the club, those are the rules. You’re the captain. I’m sure they will be so glad to hear you can’t stay away from your girlfriend for a few hours overnight.”

The captain shook her head and stood, tugging you off the bed and wrapping you up in a hug that had a better purpose than simply saying goodnight. She slipped her own keycard into your pocket and whispered something unintelligible for Ingrid’s ears to you. Then, she left with a grin, and Ingrid scoffed as you turned back to her shyly, cheeks bright red.

“You know what, I don’t even want to know.” Ingrid said, gathering her things to take into the bathroom to start her night routine.

“It was nothing like that!” You claimed abruptly, realising where her mind had gone. You hesitated for a moment, before remembering who it was in front of you. “She was just being sweet. Saying she would miss me for the night.”

All Ingrid could do was shake her head at the pair of you and how utterly loved up you were, because with every glimpse she caught of the true nature of your connection with each other, it exceeded her hopes and expectations every single time. So, with her hands on her hips as she took the sight of you smiling with a soft shyness to your face and how you fidgeted with the keycard in your pocket, she had no qualms expressing her feelings.

“Do you know how much it means to me? To see you this happy with someone?” Was what she said, which you weren’t expecting at all. You were expecting more teasing, or for her to just tell you to be quiet so she could get ready for bed. Certainly not that.

“What do you mean?” You wondered quietly. She came to stand in front of you and put her hands on your shoulders, meeting your curious stare with a proud look in her eye.

“It just makes me happy to see that you have found someone that treats you exactly as you deserve to be treated. Who isn't afraid to ask questions, who goes above and beyond for you, who sees you for who you are. I had no idea Alexia would be that person for you but I am so glad she is. I am just… relieved and proud that this is how things have worked out for you with moving to this club. I was worried you wouldn't like it but you have really made a place for yourself. And you even got yourself a girlfriend, like, look at you go!” Ingrid beamed, shaking you a little from excitement as she spoke. 

You giggled at her because this moment was so Ingrid, but at the same time, it tugged on your heart strings. Her words put things into perspective for you about everything that had happened since you left Germany, and though there had been lows, there were so many more highs than you realised. Even still, the best was yet to come.

There wasn’t a single part of you that would ever get tired of hearing how proud and happy Ingrid was for you. You’d looked up to her since the moment you met her, she was an example to you, like a big sister. No way would you be the person you were without her. She’s one of those people you hold onto for life, and you would spend the rest of yours trying to repay her for everything she’d done for you.

The next morning, when Ingrid woke up alone in your shared hotel room, she wasn’t even surprised, nor was she the slightest bit concerned for your whereabouts. There was only one place you would be, and though you cruelly abandoned her some point during the night, the sight of you walking in with Alexia, wearing her training jersey with 11 printed on it, her arm around your shoulders as you giggled at something she said to you, was very much welcome.

—

When something wasn’t quite right with Alexia, your entire world felt off-kilt, until you got to the bottom of what was up with her. Sometimes she’d willingly come to you for some support and comfort, other times she was reluctant, and very much stuck in her own head.

Like, for example, just before the season started ramping up, she got a minor muscle injury that’d keep her out for a couple weeks. Everyone knew how it’d make her feel, but it was up to you to be there and reassure her that no, the world wasn’t ending, and yes, she could be the little spoon for that evening. 

Alexia was a bit of a doom-thinker, which not many people knew about, but it was the truth. The moment she was told some bad news, there was a frown paired with a scowl which both were so deeply imprinted on her face, if there was a gust of strong wind, she might actually, genuinely, get stuck like that. Her mind worked on overdrive, thinking and thinking and thinking until she could land on the fastest solution to whatever was wrong. When there wasn’t an immediate solution, well… you wouldn’t be surprised if her head exploded.

So, after having gone home before Alexia was done with her physio assessment, you raced back as soon as you could the second one of the Barca staff told you she was still there, on her own, watching the B-team’s training session. You had tried ringing her, though you knew her phone was most likely sitting in her bag in the locker room as she attempted to gain some peace of mind. The captain had apparently been there for quite some time, however, and you felt she’d had enough time on her own to process it before she needed the care of someone she loved.

She sat on the second-to-top row of the bleachers, hood up and cap on with her hands in her pockets, slumped back against her chair as her eyes tracked every movement of the young players in front of her. You approached her quietly and cautiously, as if trying not to spook away some sort of wild, erratic, unpredictable animal. But no, it was just your emotionally inept girlfriend- inept only when it came to football and injuries.

Even though she could definitely hear you, she gave nothing away.

“Ale? Can I sit with you, or would you like some more time on your own?” You asked gently, the blonde staying silent. “I can leave if you’d like. Just thought I’d come check on you.”

After a second or two, she shook her head and waved you over. She didn’t really know what to say, her mind was split in half and each side was fighting it out between being angry and being logical. She knew she’d be back in no time, but there were still games missed. Missed games, missed opportunities.

You took the seat beside her and tried to get a read on her face, which was entirely emotionless apart from the way she pursed her lips and the slight scowl she had that couldn’t be blamed on the sun, thanks to her hat. Without really knowing how she felt, you didn’t know what to do. Alexia had never lashed out at you to ever give you the wrong idea, but you really didn’t want to say the wrong thing and make her feel worse, or angry.

That was until, about a minute after you sat down, she shuffled a little closer in her seat to where you sat, her shoulder just slightly brushing against yours. You knew that was her silently reaching out, so you complied easily, and rested a hand on her thigh, which she immediately grasped onto with her own. 

“It is so annoying.” You heard her say some time later, her voice just a whisper which had the tiniest crack of emotion in it. “And I am annoyed that I feel annoyed.”

Her eyes were still unmoving from the pitch, but as you looked at her, you smiled sadly, and slipped your hand out of hers to wrap an arm around her shoulders. You coaxed her closer to you, glad when she leaned your head against yours. You would never wish for her to be in this position or a situation similar, but right now you knew she was okay and safe, so you relished in the fact she sought you out, like you did when the roles were reversed. It was the wrong moment to think such a thing, but you were almost relieved that she also needed you when she was going through a difficult time, like you needed her. 

“I know. Nobody expects you to just sit back, take this news, and not be angry that an injury has come when you’re so in form. And when the team needs everybody because it’s going to get hectic soon. Let yourself feel frustrated, you’re allowed to and expected to. But when we wake up tomorrow, you’re gonna come here, and you’re gonna get on with rehab because that is your mindset. You know, when you get up in the morning, these resentful feelings will have gone. You just have to feel them.” You settled on reminding her that she knows she will get past it, because it was the truth, and trying to sugarcoat anything or pretending like all was okay would have been the wrong way to go about this situation. 

Alexia was ineffably grateful. For you coming to be beside her, for your words, and just for you overall. She always found these first moments after bad news difficult, but the road ahead of her seemed so much clearer with every bit of reassurance you gave.

“And you will be with me, huh?” She turned to you with a slight smirk, an act you knew was a classic performance of fake it ‘til you make it. If she acted confident, maybe she would start to feel somewhat sure of herself again.

“And I will be with you for every second of it. Every second.” You told her with a bright smile, and the combination of that and your dedication to her also brought a smile of her own to her face. “You are the most determined person I have ever met. But it is human to have blips. It’s why I’m here; to try to make you feel better because you don’t have to go through blips alone.”

Somehow, you were saying all the right things, even if you thought you were just muddling through an internal checkbook of ‘things people say to each other during hard times.’ Seeing Alexia with a smile on her face compared to the stormy expression she wore when you arrived was a huge boost in confidence. Even more so when she turned her body towards you and ducked her head down so that she could rest her chin on your shoulder as she brought you in for a hug that comforted you just as much as it did her.

“Thank you for coming here.” She mumbled into your jacket, and you kissed her cheek afterwards. 

“Always. It is my duty to the team, no?” You couldn’t help but grin in triumph when she laughed, slightly muffled by your clothes, but she laughed nevertheless. “And as your girlfriend, I suppose.”

“You suppose.”

“Fine. It is my duty, a duty I take very seriously. A duty I’m very good at, considering I’ve got you here in my arms, laughing like you didn’t look like you wanted to watch the world burn when I arrived.”

“You are… annoying. Cocky, smug, and annoying. Stop it.”

—

You were serious when you said you’d be there every second along her rehab. As you had told her, it was a duty you took very seriously. But how serious, Alexia didn’t know in that instance at the training ground. 

One of your favourite love languages for others was gift giving, you were sort of known as the best present-buyer with everyone you know, because that was also another thing you did not joke about. Though, it was your spontaneity with such a habit that you knew people appreciated most. And who else would be at the top of that long list of people, other than your girlfriend. 

Even if you did accidentally almost send her to hospital as you walked into her apartment out of the blue as she sat at her dining table with her headphones on. 

Since she was out of playing action and feeling a little useless with what she could give to the team, she basically took it upon herself to take notes of the matches and training sessions that she’d missed whilst she was gone so that she could send them to the team and hope they got good use out of it. That meant her attention was entirely on her laptop and notepad when you walked in, a small gift bag in your hand and a nervous look on your face, which she missed of course.

It wasn’t until you were stood beside her and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder that she jumped out of her skin and slammed her headphones down on the table so hard out of fear, you worried she’d broken them. Then, she exhaled deeply, hand on her heart as she worked to slow it down once she noticed it was you. Unfortunately for her, you had no control over the laughter that bubbled out of you at her dramatic reaction, to which she groaned and pulled you closer with an arm around your waist, hiding her face in your stomach out of embarrassment. 

At that point, you noticed something very convenient for the gift you had bought her. Her hair was tied up into a messy bun, making your life so much easier.

“Close your eyes, Ale. I have something for you, you’re not allowed to see it.” 

“Why get me something if I cannot see what it is?” She argued, putting on that frustratingly endearing faux innocent expression she often put on when trying to fight her case over something small and light-hearted like this.

“Just be quiet and do what I say.” You told her, attempting to be stern but it was entirely futile when she gazed up at you like that, and before you’d even finished your sentence, there was a smile on your face. 

Despite how she rolled her eyes teasingly, she closed her eyes and sat still, waiting for whatever you had in store for her. As she sat there, she could hear you reaching into the bag she spotted and taking something out of it, but other than that, she was none the wiser to what her surprise was. Her eyebrows shot up when she felt you lay something delicate around her neck.

“Engel, what have you done?” She enquired, her eyes still shut as she fought the urge to open them prematurely.

You stayed silent, making sure the present was secure, before tapping her shoulder to indicate you were done and stepping back shyly. The second she opened her eyes, she fixed you with a knowing, accusatory glare, before standing and heading over to the mirror, where her face lit up at what she saw.

A dainty gold chain sat perfectly across her neckline, a simple piece of jewellery that immediately jumped up to the top of her favourites. There wasn’t anything outrightly extravagant about it, it was discreet and meant to be worn with daily casual clothes, but Alexia wondered how she’d gone without it for so long, because it was truly perfect. She couldn’t find a better word to describe it. Maybe priceless, because the sentiment behind it was even more beautiful to her than the appearance of it. 

You had gone out with some friends having woken up without Alexia beside you that morning with no plans to see each other that day. Yet, there you were, showing up out of the blue with a surprise that she treasured after having it in her possession for no more than a minute. It was supposed to be an entirely inconspicuous day for the pair of you, but that flew out the window when you decided to get her a gift that could probably never be topped.

Alexia never really found herself as someone that people randomly bought gifts for. Sure, her mother and her sister might spot something and get it for her, but other than that, everyone assumed she had everything she could ever need, what with her wages and her sponsors and bonuses for all the thirty titles she’d won. She never would have known that a necklace could evoke such a whirlwind of emotion throughout her. It stuck in her mind, on repeat, over and over; you went out shopping with friends, without Alexia even jokingly asking for a present, and had seen something which made you think of her. And you even went so far as to buy it for her, and then surprise her at her own apartment with no warning. 

“It’s just something small, I know it’s not all that special, but I saw it and thought of you and deci-” 

The blonde had a habit of cutting you off when you rambled insecurely, though it wasn’t something you had a particular distaste for. Every time she did so, she stopped you in your tracks and did something that pulled each anxiety from your mind until you forgot what you were even worrying about. Whether that be by talking, or drawing you in for a hug, or offering a distraction, or in this case, indulging in the overwhelming amount of love she felt by kissing the life out of you.

Though, for her, that still wasn’t enough of an expression of her feelings, so just as you caught up with her she pulled away. Her arms were around your waist in an instant, and she lifted you up off the ground and spun you both around, like movie stars in the rain. However, thankfully you were both warm and majoritively dry in the comfort of Alexia’s apartment- majoritively dry, because there were… tears on your neck?

“Are you crying?” You asked in disbelief, surprised that she’d have such a reaction to just a necklace.

“Yes. Yes I am.” Alexia answered with a laugh, using one of her hands to hastily brush away the endless tears that fell. “I am crying because you bought me a necklace. For no reason, you bought me a necklace, and I really l-love that. It means a lot to m-me, amor.” 

Her reaction almost had you crying too; she was adorable, and you hugged her tighter because it felt like that was all you could do. Every day with her, she showed a new side to who she was away from Alexia Putellas, the merciless footballer that was no match for anyone. This version, this emotional, choked up version of her was so heart-warming, part of you wished the world could see it, whilst the rest of you relished in the fact you were the only person to see it. Only you could make her cry over a necklace, and as weird as that was, it was your badge of honour you’d wear with pride. 

Perhaps your bank account wouldn’t agree, but you’d buy her a dainty gold chain everyday of the year if it meant she felt at least half as loved as she made you feel.

—

Somewhere along the way since you first fell in love with Alexia, Barcelona officially became… home. 

Germany was never home, you always knew you’d move away at some point. You liked the city you were in, you thought you loved it at the time, but… Barcelona introduced to you what love actually was, and it was Alexia. 

You didn’t know what life had waiting for you years down the line, and if you thought about that and its unknowns for too long, you would send yourself into an anxious tizzy that was entirely unnecessary. For now, you were the happiest you’d ever been, and it just so happened that you were in Barcelona when that happened. The city was dreamy, though so was the woman you were in love with. So were your friends. Everything about your life was the best it’d ever been.

That, unsurprisingly to you, opened up a world of daydreams and scenarios to think about. The first on your agenda, which was a terrifying one if it didn’t go your way: would Alexia ever want to live with you?

“Ale? Can we talk about something?” You said out of the blue as the pair of you walked along a beach in Madeira, hand in hand as the waves lapped calmly over your feet and the sun and the sky flaunted its beauty with shades of purples, pinks, and oranges, painting the perfect, serene background to a conversation sure to bring some anxiety. 

“Of course. Anything. Do you want to sit down and talk?” Alexia suggested, taking you both a little higher up the sand after you nodded. She took a seat first, before looking up at you with a welcoming smile as you paused for a moment, then sat down.

It was probably ridiculous and childish that you thought so, but you hated how the dynamic of any kind of relationship could change with one conversation. With what you were about to say, you felt sick at the possible outcomes. You knew what you were about to say, whilst Alexia was blissfully unaware of the storm you were about to kick up. The words were on the tip of your tongue as you looked at her, and your mouth opened and closed for a few moments as you built up the courage to speak them. Eventually, you did, and Alexia waited patiently throughout your internal warfare.

“Would you… ever want to, maybe, live together? One day?”

For a few brief moments (the worst of your life), Alexia didn’t respond. In that short time, your anxiety reached whole new heights, convincing you that the next words out of Alexia’s mouth would be her breaking up with you. They weren’t, of course they weren’t.

“I would love to. I really would.” She admitted coyly, smiling and shaking her head at the utter look of shock on your face. “I have been thinking about this for some time, I just didn’t know how to bring it up. So, please, tell me what you think.”

“What I think?” Alexia nodded, a comforting hand landing on your knee. “Well… I don’t know how we would do it.”

“What do you mean? We just decide whose apartment to move to and do that, no?” 

It wasn’t that simple, unfortunately. This was something you did indeed have a lot of thoughts on, and maybe it’d be those that would finally scare her off. 

Alexia was amazing at understanding, but she wasn’t perfect. Nobody could blame her for not being clued in on something like this, especially since it was the first time you were talking about it together.

“I… that wouldn’t work. Not for me anyway.” You started, a little disheartened by the frown that formed on her face. Still, you explained yourself. “If I moved into your apartment, it wouldn’t feel like my home. I love your apartment, I do, but it’s your apartment and always has been. If you moved into my apartment, that would mean that… it’s not my space anymore. Which makes no sense at all because it obviously would be, but… I don’t know how to explain it best. It’s…”

You trailed off, frustrated at how you couldn’t properly articulate yourself in such a delicate situation. But, now that she was clued in, Alexia understood exactly what you meant. 

Your apartment was your dedicated space; having someone move in, no matter who it was, would feel like having an intruder there at all times. Everything would be different in your mind, even if the only physical difference was Alexia, your girlfriend. It’d take you months, or probably even years, to get used to it. And you know you couldn’t live like that, even if you so desperately wanted to. 

Living with Alexia in her apartment would be even worse. You know her apartment as a visitor, but not as a resident. If you lived there, it would constantly feel like you were in someone else’s home and not your own. These two things, though they may be the easiest options theoretically, would cause all kinds of hell for you and probably reverse all the progress you’d made since moving to Spain. It would put strain on everything, from your relationships, to the football you played, to your mental health, everything. It just wasn’t a feasible or healthy option.

“I understand that, mi amor. I understand all that you said.” Alexia tried to reassure you, but you could see the sadness in her eyes that she tried to disguise. She was upset by this new revelation, and that wrecked you. “Please don’t feel guilty about it though. I am not mad or anything.”

You nodded and avoided her eyes, focussing your attention on the ocean in front of you and crossing your arms, like you were protecting yourself. You pulled away from your girlfriend to get away from the inevitable pain of her pulling away instead. Alexia realised that and had to suppress a sigh, not one of annoyance or along those lines, but out of concern, because she could see that turmoil this conversation had caused you. 

She decided to give you a couple minutes to think on your own, wondering if that’s what you’d need to process all that had just occurred. She was right to do that, because you did something rare. Rather than dwelling on the negative outcomes of what just happened, you tried your best to make something good out of it.

Because, in the end, relationships were all about compromise.

“Maybe, next year or next season or whatever, we…” You paused to take a breath, then addressed Alexia directly. She met you with a curious and open gaze, wordlessly encouraging you to get whatever it was off your chest. “We revisit this conversation, and… look at houses together?”

A new, shared space would work. A blank canvas for you both to work together on, to figure out together, to make a house into a home, together.

Alexia’s wide, bright smile was worth more than anything else in the world. One second, she was sat beside you, and the next, she had lunged forward to tackle you to the soft gold ground beneath you, putting her weight on you as she leaned down to shower you with the surge of adoration she felt. She peppered kisses all over your face and down to your neck, eliciting a surprised giggle out of you that was priceless to her. 

Your future, your shared future with the woman that lay on top of you, was in sight and near enough solidified. In a few years, you might not be a Barcelona player, football might take you down a completely different road, but the one you were on now, where you had plans to buy a house with Alexia, was enough for now, enough to settle the anxiety you always got when you thought about the future, because things were pretty good at that moment.

And to tie off an all-round very successful conversation, Alexia said something that summarised your whole relationship in only a single sentence. 

“Whatever you want to do, we will do, because seeing you happy makes me happy also.” 

—

depending on the reaction to this, i have no idea when or if there will be another story after this one. very anxious to post for reverie after all that happened because people have not so fun opinions about this overall topic that can and will wreck me which is pretty scary so :)

[captain-huggy-bear]

The Teacher's Always Right

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: N/A

Summary: Your students badger you about your relationship status and you let slip you're dating a hockey player who plays for the Vancouver Canucks. They don't believe you, you're petty enough to arrange a school trip to Rogers Arena just to prove your point.

Notes: Very self-indulgent of me as someone who teaches teenagers for a living and regularly gets questioned on my relationship status. They really do bully you (affectionately).

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)

Writing Masterlist

You're in the middle of teaching your high schoolers about the fur trade in colonial Canada, mid-speech, arms spread wide as you gesture to your powerpoint when a teenage voice interrupts you.

"Miss, are you married?" It's David, sat at the back, legs stretched out as far as he can reach them. He's ironically enough wearing a Canucks jersey, specifically Number 43...a very, very familiar number to you. As is the question. In your years of teaching this isn't the first time you've been interrupted to be questioned on your relationship status, in fact it happens multiple times a year. Each set of students eager to know why you're a miss and if you'll be a mrs soon and are going to be leaving them to have a baby. When you were single, the questions were usually why?

"No." You've gotten rather good at deflecting or at least not letting slip the reality of your relationship, usually finding out you're not single is enough for them, but there's something about David's attitude that screams persistant curiosity. It makes you wonder why you bother teaching your subject at all when he's more curious about your love life than History itself

"Do you have boyfriend?"

"Yes, does this have anything to do with British colonisation or the fur trade or....?" You lean back on your desk, board pen landing gently on the surface, knowing that you're not going to be free of this conversation for at least another 2 minutes.

"What's your boyfriend do?" You breathe a deep sigh and look around the room, you don't want to get into who your boyfriend is. It's not like its a well known fact that you're dating the captain of the Vancouver Canucks and you try to keep it that way. Not because you're ashamed but because its your private life, school and home, those are as separate as you can make them. It would be impossible to do that if everyone was talking about your relationship, although you know eventually it'll become more public.

Stacy from one of the desk by the windows chimes in this time, curiosity peaked, dragging her away from her current hobby of staring out the window in boredom, "C'mon, miss, it can't be that bad? What? Is he like unemployed or something?" She says while chewing loudly on a wad of gum.

"Gum in the bin, Stacy." Her chewing stops and she slumps as she stomps her way to your classroom bin, spitting the gum in with a roll of her eyes.

"So? Is he unemployed?" You decide to answer the question, only because Stacy actually did what you said this time. You hated gum in the classroom, mostly because it always ended up on the bottom of your shoes and made them stick to the floor as you walked. You wouldn't mind it so much if they could all just throw it away normally.

"No. He's got a job, a good job." A really good job, a ridiculously good job actually. You didn't talk money with Quinn much, but the reality was that he made an amount in a year that you would never make in a life time as a teacher.

"Sooo???" David interjects, leaning forward now in his seat, clearly not happy enough to just know your boyfriend isn't some unemployed bum.

"He's a hockey player."

"Like beer league?"

"No. Like NHL." You watch your classes faces in what feels like slow motion, the series of disbelieving looks, wide eyes and raised eyebrows that are quickly followed by a chorus of objections and claims that you can't be telling the truth.

"Nah, no way! You're not here, teaching us, and dating a guy who makes millions, nah." It's actually frustrating, it shouldn't be. You've literally had students throw tables at you and yet, the idea that they think you are a liar is what makes you frustrated. Is it really that hard to believe that you enjoy your job and don't want to scrounge off of your pro-athlete boyfriend? Or that hard to believe that you managed to snag a pro-athlete in the first place?

"You don't believe me?"

"Nah, like if you are, he's gotta be in some really bad team in the US." You're already formulating a plan to prove to your students that you're not lying and not dating a shit NHL player. Sure, the plan involves a lot more work for you, but the idea is in your head and you can't help but think that it'll be worth it.

"He's a Canuck." You smirk a little, knowing the mention of the local team would get a response. Most of the kids you teach go to at least one game a year or watch it on TV. Some have even seen you at the games, but you always sit in the stands like a regular fan. Mostly because Quinn can't really talk to you anyway when he's locked into a game. You'd serve as more of a distraction if you sat front and centre every game.

"No, no way!" David stands, slamming his hands on his desk, "You're lying!" Half the class echo his claims that you must be lying and it makes you even more determined to prove them wrong. Do you really need to prove to a bunch of teenagers that you're dating an NHL player? No, do you want to? Absolutely.

"Fine, don't believe me, but i'm not lying. I'm dating a Vancouver Canuck."

It takes a little to get them all back on track with the lesson but you manage it. Although you're just as distracted. The moment the bell goes to signal lunch break and your classroom empties, you're on your phone calling your boyfriend, even though you know he's probably in the middle of practice.

He answers on the second ring, the sound of the rink in the background loud and clear as pucks hit the sideboards and skates scratch up the ice.

"Hey, baby, everything okay?" It's unusual for you to call him in the work day and you can hear the worry in his voice, even if he'll pretend he's not worried at seeing your name pop up when you should be working.

"Hey, I'm fine, don't worry...but...you know how you love me?" You fiddle with a little wooden bear that sits on your desk. Quinn bought you it after finding out your favourite animals were any type of bear, it's left ear is broken off and it's got a little bit of red paint where it fell on a floor one time, but you love it anyway.

"Uh huh?" The worry in his voice gives out to amusement at realising you're after something. On his end Quinn is stood at the bench watching the guys run drills, Tocc giving him a look as if to say 'hurry up'.

"And you know how you want to always make me happy?" He smiles at the faux innocent voice you put on, as if he'd deny you anything.

"What do you need me to do, baby?" There's zero hesitation, typical Quinn really, if you want something you've got it, if you need him to do something he's agreeing before all the terms are laid out. He's lucky you don't abuse that sort of power really, he'd spoil you completely if you let him.

"I need you to help me organise a school trip to see you guys practice and meet you all, so that I can prove to my students that I am actually dating an NHL player because they're calling me a liar and I will not be called a liar by teenagers who gaslight me all the time!" The faux innocent voice gives way to your rapid ramble, annoyance riding your tone as you pace across the front of your classroom.

You're greeted firstly by his loud and genuine laugh, so loud that it makes you pull the phone away from your ear. It takes a solid minute for Quinn to stop laughing, and he can see the looks he's getting from the ice, Brock throws him a questioning eyebrow raise, Petey perks his head up at the sound of his captain actually laughing that hard.

It's the dead silence on your end that makes him stop, "Wait, are you serious?"

"Yes! They're telling me i'm lying and I will not be called a liar!"

"Okay, so let me get this straight." He runs a hand through his hair, before leaning against the side of the bench, "Your students don't believe you're dating a canuck, so you need me to help you organise a school trip-"

"For free!" You interrupt, knowing you won't get permission for a trip that costs the school anything more than a few buses and fuel costs, school funding being what it is.

"For free, to prove that you're dating me?" There are easier ways, Quinn thinks, to prove this. Like, him posting a picture of you together on the internet or him kissing you in front of the arena at a game, but it's kind of cute how much you're affronted by your students calling you a liar. It also sounds way more fun.

"Yup, is that...is that too much to ask? I'm being silly aren't I?" He hears it in your tone, the way you seem to start second guessing yourself, can hear you tapping a fingernail against your desk, probably messing with the little bear figurine he got you all those years ago.

"A little silly, but for you? I think I can pull some strings, honey."

You know Quinn will say yes to most things you ask, but you hadn't actually expected him to agree this time. It had felt too big, too much. Your normal requests were small, something like asking if he could get you a doughnut on his way home or could he put the dishes in the dishwasher.

"You serious?"

"Yeah, i'm serious." It takes a beat before your almost squealing in delight down the phone at him, the realisation that he's actually saying yes hitting and he can't help but laugh even as he pulls the phone away from his ear.

"I love you! Have I told you that today?" Your voice is sweet and happy, brighter than it was before. It makes him want to always say yes to you, the way you light up like a christmas tree.

"Mmm, not since 6am this morning."

"Well, I love you and you are the absolute best boyfriend I've ever had and I will never take you for granted."

He can see Tocc motioning him over, telling him without words that its time for the call to end and get back to being captain. Part of him just wants to keep talking with you, rare as it is to get to do during a working day, but he has responsibilities just like you do.

"I have to go, baby, I have practice...but we'll talk about this later, okay?"

He knows his evening is going to be spent planning out what you want this trip to look like before he goes away and tries to make it happen, but he doesn't mind. Anything to make his baby happy. Even if that is trying to prove a bunch of teenagers wrong.

Between the two of you it takes about 2 months to organise the trip. A lot of that time simply spent getting risk assessments done, approval from your administration sorted and organising parental consent. It also takes you getting the sports teacher on side because it was becoming difficult to find a justification as a History teacher for why you wanted to take kids to meet some hockey players. By the time you've organised it, most of your students have forgotten your claims. You have not forgotten their belief that you are a liar, however.

"I can't believe you managed to get us a trip to Rogers Arena! To meet the Canucks! Best teacher ever!" The hockey boys in your class are especially stoked, many of them playing in junior teams and following the Canucks closely as their team of choice. David is no exception to that rule, arriving to the school bus in so many bits of Vancouver merchandise that you're unsure how he's managing to walk weighed down as he is.

"I told you, my boyfriend plays for them." You remind him, ticking him off the register of kids and ushering him up into the bus.

"Miss, we all know that's not true." He turns to you just as he's about to dispear to find his seat. The scepticism written all over his face.

It makes you shake your head, waiting for the moment the puck drops.

The entire ride to the stadium features your students making fun of you for saying your boyfriend was a canuck, you let it slide simply because you're looking forward to seeing them eat their words. They think its funny right now, but you know you're getting the last and final laugh.

You're met at the entrance by, surprisingly, Tocc, who greets you with a warm hug, "Hey, how you doing?"

"I'm good, thank you for having us, Tocc." You like Tocc, he's a good coach and you like that he cares about how the guys are as people not just how they perform. You also can see how much Quinn appreciates him as coach, so you have a soft spot for the scary looking guy.

"No problem," You can feel the weight of 50 eyes on you, all varying shades of disbelief as they realise you seem a little too familiar when interacting with the Head Coach and its only the beginning. You can't help but smile simply because they're starting to realise that maybe they fucked up. Maybe their doubt was misplaced, maybe you actually were telling the truth all along.

"Are Quinn and the guys on the rink or in the locker room?"

"Rink, easier to fit all the kids, but we've got to get them booted up first." The famililarity with which you refer to Quinn and the guys, does not go past David and Stacy both of whom share a look that screams 'don't tell me that she actually knows them...'.

It takes a bit of time to get all 50 kids in skates, although at least 20 of them bring their own, as do you. You're not much of a skater, but dating Quinn meant you couldn't avoid him buying you a decent pair for family skate and the few times he manages to drag you on the ice each year.

You're about to put your own on when Quinn makes his way over to you clearly having just come off the ice, guards on his skates and hair messy from his helmet. He waves briefly at some of the kids before reaching you, taking your skates in hand without hesitation.

"Y'know I can do it myself, right?"

"When have I ever let you do your own skates? Besides, I thought you wanted the last laugh?" He nods his head in the direction of your students who stand gaping at the Captain of the Vancouver Canucks putting your foot in a skate and putting said skate between his thighs to help him tighten the laces with care. Not something one does for a strange teacher they don't know.

"I'm really enjoying myself already. The whole ride they were giving me all sorts of hell about it, and now I can see their little brains working hard to figure out if I was actually telling the truth or not."

You watch Quinn work, finishing tying off your first skate before reaching for the other, his hands are sure on your calf as he slips your foot into it. "The guys are looking forward to it, think this might be their favourite practice of the year. You might be their favourite WAG now."

"All I had to do was bring a bunch of teenagers to the rink to get them to love me?" Quinn stops mid lace pull, smirk firmly in place as he looks at you from underneath his eyelashes.

"Y'know they loved you already, right? Pretty sure Petey is your number one fan."

"That's because I bribe him with sweets." Specifically his favourite sour candy which makes his eyes water. The more sour the better.

Quinn huffs out a laugh, tying off your laces before patting your foot and setting it back on the ground. His hands reach out to help you to your feet and linger on yours a little longer than is strictly necessary.

"You ready for this?"

"Can't back out now, so I guess I have to be." There's a slight bubbling of nerves under your skin, the sense that your students might not think this is cool and instead think that you're undeserving of your relationship, but you shrug it off. After all, they're kids, their opinion on your relationship is genuinely not important.

"See you on the rink?"

"See you there." You watch him walk away and try to ignore the buzz of chatter you can hear from students, commenting on the fact that Quinn did your skates for you.

You get them registered, orderly and help them file onto the rink, the less sure of the bunch buddied up with someone who had more experience skating to avoid 50 kids bowling each other over on the ice. You did not want to deal with a pile of kids flat on the ice after knocking each other over, the paper work would be ridiculous.

You stand back and just watch. The clear awe on their faces as they step out onto the ice, the large rink impressive any day let alone for kids who had never stepped foot on a rink that size. It makes you smile, knowing you're contributing to their memories, providing something great even if it all started out of petty spite. Even if they don't believe you, you feel good knowing they're getting to enjoy this experience.

You skate nearer to the front, Brock and Petey giving you a bright smile and wave, a variety of nods of recognition from the others. Little things that once again tell your students you know these men better than they expected you to.

"Hey, guys. Welcome to Rogers Arena, it's great to have you here," Quinn starts the introduction, smoothly sliding forward on his skates and gesturing to the line of players as he proceeds to introduce each them by name and position, before finally getting to himself, "And i'm Quinn Hughes, Captain of the team,"

"And Norris trophy winner" You chime in, arms crossed as you watch your boyfriend do what he's best at. He's good with fans especially kids, even if he's terrible with the after game reporters.

He turns to you with a bright grin, "Hi, baby," You can see the twinkle in his eye as he drops the petname, you know he does it on purpose to get the reaction that he does from your students as a wave of muttering and murmuring goes through the little crowd.

"Hi, honey, thanks for having us." You throw it right back, more sickly sweet than you'd usually be, playing up to your little audience who practically gasp.

"Anything for my girl."

"No fucking way!" "What the hell?!" You watch each face drop, mouths open, eyes wide. Watch David as he swears loudly face aghast, almost horrified at the realisation that he might have been making fun of Quinn Hughes' girlfriend the entire time he'd been calling his teacher a liar.

"Language, David!" You tell him off even as you smirk, watching the murmurs die off as Quinn and Boeser talk the kids through skating techniques and how best to shoot the puck, the different techniques and ways to hit the puck with the stick. Half of it makes little sense to you but its nice to watch how the kids get engaged, how Quinn takes over a leadership and teaching role.

You mostly take a step back throughout, watching your students learn from Quinn and the guys, but every now and then Quinn finds you under the pretense of fixing your stance or giving you a tip or piece of advice.

Like now, as his hands reach out, fixing how you hold the hockey stick, foot kicking yours just slightly further apart to adjust your stance.

"So, think they believe you now?" You look over at your students, the joy they're having learning hockey from some of the best, but also at the looks they keep sending your way. You're certain they've learnt their lesson, the teacher is always right, at least when it comes to her own love life.

"I think I am offically the coolest teacher in school, so thanks for that." You reach up and kiss Quinn on the cheek, quick and chaste, nothing inappropriate considering you're both at work and surrounded by kids, but it's enough to make his cheeks flush red.

He rubs the back of his neck with that boyish smile of his and it makes you want to kiss him all over again, "Well, I couldn't have a bunch of teenagers calling my girlfriend a liar."

You're so stuck in the moment with him that you don't notice David and his friends until they're upon you and calling out to Quinn. The picture of respect when talking to who might just be their new favourite NHL star.

"Hey, Mr Hughes?" Conveniently half the kids surrounding you are the ones who claimed you must have been dating some beer league level player or some guy from the Chicago Blackhawks.

"You can call me Quinn, Mr Hughes is my dad. What's up, dude?"

"So when are we going to be calling teach Mrs Hughes?" It's your turn to flush, face warming harshly as Quinn's practically asked when he's proposing to you by a spotty 15 year old.

"David!" You might never be able to call your future child David at this rate, far too familiar with calling the name in admonishment. Definitely no David's in your future. Add that name to the list of names you can't use.

David looks at you with a wide grin, braces on full display. "What? I'm tryin' a help you get that bank!" It's actually mortifying, you thank your lucky stars that Quinn knows you're not actually after his money because if a 15 year old were to ruin your relationship you might actually become a super villain.

"I do not need a 15 year old wingman!"

"Baby, it's alright." Quinn wraps an arm around your shoulders, tugging you into his side as if that will sooth the embarrassment of having a 15 year old try to help you get a rich husband, "Uh, to answer your question, it won't be too long now, bud."

"So, like 6 months? A year? Next week?"

"Oh my god..." You turn your face into Quinn's shoulder, your groan muffled by his jersey. You're certain you might actually pass away from embarrassment, even if deep down there's a little thrill in your stomach that Quinn basically just said he's going to propose to you sooner rather than later.

"I gotta keep it a secret, sorry, man! Gotta keep Mrs Hughes on her toes." Your toes curl at the way he calls you Mrs Hughes, a small smile on your face hidden by his jersey.

A little back and forth is exchanged before David and his friends decide their bored and skate off towards Boeser who's going over the finer points of 'get to the net' and 'just shoot the puck'.

You mumble into Quinn's shoulder as his hands run up and down your back in soothing strokes, "Are you really ganging up on me with a bunch of teenagers?"

"Hey, I just told you that I want to marry you and you're mad at me?" He's not serious though, grinning as pushes you back to look at him. It's adorable, the pout on your face as you glare up at him for making fun of you. Although, you're always adorable to him, so maybe he's biased,

"Correction, you told a 15 year old that you wanted to marry me."

"Okay, okay, I see the problem." He shakes his head solemnly, hands on your shoulders as he lowers his voice just a touch, "Baby, just so you know I want to marry you."

"Okay."

"Okay?" You watch as he stands, mouth agape at your casual response. You're sure he was expecting you to giggle or squeal, but you're determined to mess with him a little.

"That's...nice to know?" You grin at him even as internally you're screaming because your boyfriend wants to marry you and you definitely want to marry him.

"You're such a fucking nerd."

"You're dating a teacher, that's like my whole thing. I'm a professional nerd."

"Yeah... it's cute. It's why I want to marry you."

"Quinn!" You shove him away with a laugh. Maybe your students won't be embarrassing you anymore, but you think you might have a lifetime of Quinn doing it instead. Somehow that doesn't seem like the worst idea.

[alg3a]

auspicious (pt. 2)

jayce x f!reader x viktor / jayvik x reader

3k words, MDNI

description: After confronting the boys and teasing them for long enough, you finally get what you want.

warnings: nsfw content, full complete total smut, MMF threesome, f!receiving oral, double penetration, all characters are sort of switches i suppose, double creampies! hooray!

a/n: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE LOVE ON PART ONE!!! it was entirely unexpected, but i loved hearing that all of you enjoyed it. it was my first ever tumblr fic, but there will be plenty more and my request box is VERY open.

Something in their eyes turns dark when you utter those words. Not utter, exactly, they were more of a proclamation. Maybe it was your confidence that threw them off so intensely, but how could you not be confident in a dress like that, after two glasses of wine, and knowing that the two most attractive men you’ve ever laid eyes on have been wanting you for months?

It made all the late nights and restless mornings worth it to be sprawled out on their cozy lab couch wearing practically just a strip of fabric, watching them eye you like dogs.

“What is it with you two? Do I need to write you a formal invitation?”

Surprisingly, Viktor moves first. When he gets to the couch he drops his cane as if it was a crumb off his coffeecake. Then Jayce follows, filling the spot behind you as you face Viktor on the other end of the couch. Jayce’s calloused hands wrap around your waist, feeling every inch of the delicate skin exposed by your low hanging dress. Viktor’s delicate hands cup your jaw.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting this,” Viktor says, his voice raspier than you’ve ever heard before.

“Hey–” Jayce squeezes your hips firmly and pulls you back into his chest. His fingers trace the long slit up the side of your leg and brush the fabric to the side, exposing your thighs. “How long we have been waiting for this.”

“Did you ever talk about me–about this–with each other?” You have a million dirty questions to ask them now that you have them at your disposal, and this seems like a good place to start.

“It’s hard not to,” Jayce says. “Every time you would come into the lab in that little skirt…”

“Things as small as lingering touches when passing tools…” Viktor added, his mouth dipping low to kiss your exposed collarbone.

“Anytime you did anything vaguely exciting… let’s just say the thought of sharing you is very familiar to us.” Jayce’s low, rough voice mutters against your neck. He punctuates his sentence with a nip at the soft skin as Viktor pulls away from your clavicle.

“Would you like that?” Viktor asks, his fingers delicately wrapping a strand of your hair around his long, slim finger. “For Jayce and I to share you?”

And suddenly they’ve monopolized this interaction. So much for all that confidence–thrown out the window as soon as they show a sliver of dominance.

“Speak up,” Jayce says, grasping your chin firmly and lifting it so that your face is flush with Viktor’s.

“Yes,” you finally utter. “I’d like that very very much.”

“Good,” Viktor says, his accent thicker and his voice raspy.

His thumb traces along your jaw until his hand seats itself on the back of your neck. His fingers slide into your hair. You’d never realized how big his hands were until then, as one wrapped around the back of your head, tugging softly at your hair as Jayce rubbed your bottom lip with his thumb, pulling gently downward to part your pretty lips. They really were fantastic partners, aiding each other in research. And there you were, their perfect little assistant, providing them with something to study.

You don’t realize how heavily your heart is thudding against your ribs until Viktor’s lips are exploring yours and your heart is the loudest thing in the room, second only to your little whimper as you realize Jayce is doing some exploring of his own. His calloused fingers brush your bare thigh beneath the slit of your dress and dip between your legs as his chest presses against your back. With the hand that once rested on your chin, he pulls the apex of the slit higher, so that your lacy black panties are exposed to the cold air of the lab.

“Fuck,” Jayce mutters at the sight of them. You feel as his hardening cock twitches against your back, eliciting a moan from your mouth that vibrates against Viktor’s lips.

You whine as he pulls away from the kiss to take a look at what Jayce has discovered.

“Don’t everyone look at once,” you joke, but your breathlessness and heaving chest don’t exactly contribute to the punchline.

Viktor smiles for a moment, but his eyes drift to your shoulder. More specifically, the fallen strap of the dress which leaves your shoulder exposed.

“You’ve been in this dress all night,” Viktor says, smiling as he looks at Jayce over your shoulder. “I can’t imagine it’s very comfortable…”

“Do you often imagine how uncomfortable my clothes are, Viktor?” You ask, returning his smirk as Jayce slips the remaining strap off of your other shoulder.

“All the time,” he says, taking the next step off of Jayce’s hands and sliding the bodice off your dress downward, then letting Viktor return to pushing down the remnants of the dress so that it pools around your ankles.

“And much more, it would seem…or sound, rather.” Jayce laughs in a low tone, the vibrations of his chest against the bare skin of your back causing your stomach to flutter. “Loudest housemate ever.”

“Oh really?” You ask, mouth agape as Viktor slides off the couch with a smirk on his face, bringing your legs with him. He pivots you so that you’re sitting with your back against the cushions now, and he’s kneeling between your parted legs. Only your cute little panties separate his face from your best kept secret.

“Hearsay,” Viktor rolls his eyes as he kisses up your thigh. “And from the man who doesn’t even close his door when he thinks of you…”

“I close it. The walls are just…thin.” Jayce replies, placing his hand on your chin once more to turn your face to his. “And I can’t help how much noise I make.” His voice lowers and his eyes flutter shut, preparing for his turn with your lips.

Jayce is a much rougher kisser than Viktor. Handsier, too. His hand slides up your waist, grazing your chest, before finally landing on the expanse of your tilted back neck. If he choked you to death right now, you could die happy. But he won’t. He just squeezes gently as his tongue explores your mouth, his grip a reminder that he’s been wanting you for three long months. You can imagine how it must have felt for both of the boys to have you within arms reach, pushed away only by their own semblances of professionality. Actually–you can taste it, too. And you can feel it as two fingers press against your clothed cunt and you let a moan echo into Jayce’s persistent mouth.

Viktor lifts a leg onto his shoulder, and you feel two of his calloused fingertips pulling aside the lace of your panties. With only the tip of Viktor’s tongue, you’re a whining mess against Jayce’s. Jayce pulls away from you with a condescending laugh, wanting to catch a glimpse of Viktor’s meal.

“Fuck,” he rasps. “I never thought my lab partner and I would have our tongues on the same girl at the same time.”

“Don’t lie,” Viktor looks up, a grin on his glistening lips. “I’ve heard my name through those thin walls, too.”

“Shut up,” Jayce groans, and guides Viktor’s head back to your cunt. “Does that feel good, sweetheart?”

“Y-yes,” you manage to utter, miraculously. You’d heard Jayce tease Viktor time after time about his inexperience with women. You’d be surprised that Viktor was this good at eating you out if you weren’t familiar with what a meticulous learner Viktor was. A true perfectionist.

As Viktor sucks on your clit, Jayce lowers his head and sucks marks onto your neck, one hand still on Viktor’s head, feeding you to him.

“Please…” you whimper, not sure exactly what you’re even asking for until you feel your impending release.

Viktor laughs against your core. “Please what, my love?”

“Please, I’m gonna… mmph! I–” The leg that rests on Viktor’s back bends so that he’s pulled closer.

“Don’t stop, Vik, she’s close.” Jayce’s grip on your jaw tightens and he pulls you ever so slightly downward to watch Viktor. “Is that right, sweetheart? Use your words.”

You nod emphatically, opening your lips but fuck it’s so incredibly difficult for you to form words when there isn’t an adjective on the planet that can describe how he’s making you feel. “I’m gonna…I’m gonna cum, please, please don’t stop.”

“Good girl,” Jayce says, his grip loosening as he goes in to kiss you again while your climax hits you like a tidal wave. Jayce feels the impact of it against his mouth in the form of your own, needy, whimpering moans.

Your legs begin to shake, but Viktor’s hands wrap around your thighs, holding you still as he shows no signs of stopping. He’s going to grant your begging wishes and ride this out with you, his tongue dancing along your clit, his fingers spreading you wide so it’s certain he won’t miss a spot.

Once you’ve settled, Viktor pulls away, wiping the arousal from his lips with the back of his hand. You’ve seen him exhausted, aching, and messy, but you’ve never seen him with such a powerful glint of desperation in his eyes.

“Did that feel good, sweetheart?” Jayce asks, his fingers combing through your hair.

Viktor seats himself on the couch again, drawn to your collarbone again, this time using his fingers to navigate the delicate clavicle.

You nod, but it takes every ounce of effort you have to lift your head up repeatedly.

“We’re not done with you just yet,” Jayce says, getting up off of the couch, “if that’s alright with you.”

The request is almost rhetorical. Of course it’s alright with you. He knows that. If the wanton, needy little noises you were still making in agreement were any sign of the pleasure you derived from this arrangement, you could go on until morning.

“Viktor, take your pants off,” Jayce demands, standing over the two of you.

“Who decided you’d be calling the shots for tonight?” Viktor asked, breathlessly, raising one eyebrow.

“If you don’t want to, I’ll gladly take your pla–”

Viktor rushed to take his pants off. You helped him with the belt buckle and in sliding them down his legs. As you do, Jayce fully removes your panties. It doesn’t make much of a difference, now that the two men have seen every inch of you.

As Viktor’s pants come off, you see the impressive imprint of his cock underneath his boxers.

“Can I?” You ask gently, lowering your hand to hover over his cock.

“We’re past that,” Viktor says, grinning as he takes your hand and guides it to his length. You dip your fingers under the waistband of his boxers and pull them downward so that they pool at his thighs.

Wow.

You’d always sort of assumed that since Viktor was so skinny that he couldn’t be hiding much. How wrong you were. Your lips part slightly, already salivating for him. You begin to stroke his cock, ready for him to push your head onto his shaft until you can’t breathe, but you hear a tongue clicking behind you.

“No need for that,” Jayce says. “I think we’ll save that treat for the workday. For now…”

Jayce’s strong hands find their grip on your waist on your right leg, pulling you to straddle Viktor’s lap.

“I don’t think either of us can wait any longer for this,” you look back at Jayce as he speaks, watching as he unbuckles his own belt and shed his pants along with his dress shirt.

Now this one, you expected. With the amount of female “advisors” you’ve seen watching Jayce in the forge, there’s no way he wasn’t packing.

“I’m inclined to agree,” Viktor says, his hands falling at either side of your waist and lining you up with the wet tip of his cock, already ruined with precum.

“I should start preparing you back here…” Jayce says as his large hands find purchase on the round of your ass.

“Are you ready, my love?” Viktor asks with a kiss to your wrist as he lines the tip of his cock up with your entrance, swiping it a few times to ensure you’re wet enough for his entry. You’re beyond wet enough. “It would seem you are…” He laughs as he pushes your hips down on him.

Even though you hadn’t taken your eyes off of Viktor’s cock since you took it out, the size still surprised you as he pressed into your wet cunt.

“Fuck…” Viktor groaned as his neck fell back against the couch cushions. “You feel…even better than I imagined.”

You can’t even form a sentence to reply. The stretch is so intense you’ve forgotten every word in the English language. You can’t even move, paralyzed on his length. Luckily, Viktor solves that problem for you, thrusting up into you suddenly, so that all you can do is let out a strained squeal. Your hands grip his shoulders but you can’t even worry about how your nails might be hurting him, although if his grin is any consolation, he might even be enjoying the pain.

Jayce trails a line of kisses down your spine and when you look back, he’s kneeling on the ground, spitting on two fingers. You barely have time to process what that might mean before those two fingers plunge into your unfilled hole.

“Fuck!” You exclaim, the first word that you can remember in these trying times. The pain lasts only a second before the feeling sends flutters into your stomach, and elsewhere. With renewed vigor, you begin to let yourself bounce on Viktor’s cock, eliciting a lovely little whine from him.

“Tell me how he feels, baby,” Jayce says, removing his two fingers.

“So…so good.”

“I know you can be more descriptive than that,” Jayce laughs as he gets up to stand, wiping some spit onto his plump tip and stroking it.

“I’ve wanted this for so long…” you say, the truest sentence in your head the first full one you can form. “So long… it’s so long…” Okay, back to putting the “senseless” in “fucked senseless.”

The boys laugh, but Viktor’s is a strained, breathless laugh.

“Please Jayce…” you beg, looking back at him over your arched back. “I want both of you…”

“Whatever you say,” Jayce says with a crooked grin as he wraps his hands around your waist, just above Viktor’s, who finds it in him to stop you from bouncing to allow Jayce his entry.

With a full, unexpected thrust, Jayce is completely in you. The stretch burns like Hell at first, but God you’ve never felt so full before.

Jayce lets out a desperate groan, not moving for a few more seconds. When Viktor thrusts into you, Jayce reacts with a moan.

“Fuck, I can…I can feel your cock, Vik,” Jayce says, letting out a breathy laugh.

“Lucky you,” Viktor laughs as he continues to lift his hips to meet your cervix.

With a dismissive scoff, Jayce finally finds the will to thrust again, even if it just results in more wanton, wasted little moans from his mouth: noises you didn’t even think he could make.

With both of them inside you at once, thrusts alternating and hitting spots within you that make you scream their names, it won’t be long until your second orgasm of the night.

Jayce’s hand reaches for your hair, taking a cluster of it and pulling you so that your back arches and your shoulders are flush with his. He cheeks your cheek with a contrasting delicateness and whispers in your ear, “Such a good girl for us. Isn’t she the best, Vik?”

“Better than our hands, absolutely,” Viktor jokes as his chest heaves and his forehead contorts. He’s close, you can tell.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Jayce says, releasing your hair and focusing all of his efforts onto your tight little hole, stretching you impossibly wide.

“I-I don’t think I can take much more,” Viktor utters.

“Me neither,” you whimper, pressing your head into the nook between Viktor’s head and shoulder. “Oh fuck…”

“Cum for us, baby,” Jayce says, squeezing your ass cheeks as his last few thrusts are used up. It’s not long before you feel his cock twitching, sending spurts of hot cum into your bottom. “Gods! Fuck, baby!”

The sight of the two of you losing your composure above Viktor is enough to send him over, and as you fall onto the full length of his cock after riding out your own orgasm, he pumps you full of his seed as well, whimpering like a wounded puppy as he ruts into you helplessly one final time. You’re all a pile of spent, sweaty, fucked out messes.

Jayce reluctantly pulls out of you, leaving a splatter of cum falling from your hole onto Viktor’s lap.

“Sorry,” he laughs as he collides with the couch beside Viktor.

You try to pull off Viktor's cock to provide him some relaxation, but he holds you still. “Please, don’t…don’t move yet. I want this to last as long as possible.”

“Feeling sentimental, Vik?” Jayce teases, running a hand through his lab partner’s sweaty hair.

“Feeling…like I’d like to memorize this feeling before I go to bed tonight.”

You laugh and kiss the bridge of his nose before resting your head on Jayce’s neighboring shoulder. “I should’ve put ‘handling two cocks’ on my resume. Maybe then you two would have actually read it.”

“Well, you’re more than welcome to list us as references on future resumes,” Jayce laughs, rubbing your hand softly as the three of you come down from your shared highs. “I’m glad you decided to come tonight. To the gala, I mean.”

You and Viktor both laugh.

“Next time, you won’t have to deal with crude men asking you to dance,” Viktor says as he kisses the top of your head. “You’ll be busy at our side the whole night.”

“I’m never going to move past the pretty little lab assistant allegations, am I?” You smiled into Jayce’s sturdy, shuddering shoulder.

“Maybe not,” Viktor said. “But why should you? You are our beautiful little lab assistant.”

@jeromeslilhoe @justaproudslytherpuff @onyxistired @sseleniaa @clearlycaffeinated-blog @darknessbyme @shoyofroyoyoyo

(pretty much just tagged everyone that commented asking for part two)

[coldfanbou]

Kinkcember Day 19: BDSM

We went from pretty short to pretty long as we have Somi getting roughed up and loving it. Please enjoy.

Length 2.7K

Somi X Mreader

“I just need someone who’s a little rougher, you know? No one I’ve met has been able to give me it.” Somi said dejectedly as she stirred her coffee. The young woman glanced at her friend, who was staring out the window. “Chae, are you listening?”

“Mhmm,” she hummed, continuing to look out the window. I think that I may know just the person. “They got me into it.”

This piqued her interest, “They got you into it?” She asks, wanting more information from the petite woman.

The ends of Chaeyoung’s lips curl up as she remembers her experience. Chaeyoung turns to her friend, “Yeah, I met him when I went clubbing once. We went back to his place, and it was so good. I could give you his number if you want.” Chaeyoung leans over the table, getting by Somi’s ear, “Fair warning, though, you will never be the same. I can’t tell you how hard it is to cum with my boyfriend.” This sends shivers down the young woman’s spine and makes her consider what she’s doing for a brief second. In the end Somi decides to take up Chaeyoung’s offer, taking the phone number. “I’m being serious, though; you’ll be ruined for any other guy.” Chaeyoung hands Somi a slip of paper with a number on it.

She took the phone and saved it to her phone. The two continued chatting a little while longer before eventually departing. Once home, Somi pulled out her phone and stared at the number, remembering Chaeyoung’s words. She called your number, listening to the tone as she waited for you to pick up the call. “Hello?” She asked after hearing the tone.

“Hello? Who is this?”

Somi takes a deep breath before nervously continuing, “A friend of Chaeyoung. She gave me your number and told me you could help me experience what I want…in bed. I’m Somi.”

You recognize the name, “And you’re saying Chaeyoung gave you my number?”

“Y-yes. She said you’re good at what you do. I want to experience it myself.” Somi could feel her heart beat faster. “If you could come to my home, I’d really appreciate that.”

You sit back and consider her offer, imagining Somi’s body in the positions you’d put her. The idea excites you. “Alright, send me the address, and I’ll come by tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? I-“

“Yes, tomorrow unless you don’t want me to show you what I do best.”

“No, no, you can come tomorrow.” Somi blurts out. You were already showing your dominance over the young woman. “I’ll send you my address right now.” She says, about to end the call when you stop her.

“Hold on, when I get there, I want you to be kneeling on the ground, bowing toward the door, naked.” Somi nods on the other side of the phone before agreeing to your demands. You end the call and wait for her message. You get it in a matter of seconds and begin preparing.

The next day, you head to Somi’s home; getting to her door, you knock. You hear feet rushing forward, opening the door slightly before retreating. You open the door and step inside; you see the idol bowing to you, completely nude. She keeps her head to the ground. You walk around behind her, placing your bag on the ground and opening it. You pull out a collar and leash and move toward the woman, placing it around her neck. “Lift your head and show me what you look like.” Somi lifts her head slowly; you snap a picture of the young woman. You put your phone away and tug on the leash. “Come on, let's go.” Somi hesitates for a moment before crawling alongside you. She points you to her bedroom, and you lead her to it. You undress yourself in front of the young woman. She stares in awe as she sees your cock. Somi feels a wetness between her legs as she begins to imagine what you’ll do to her.

You go through your bag, grabbing some restraints and some other tools you plan to use on the young woman. One of them was a riding crop. You run it down Somi’s back, stopping as you reach her plump ass. “Listen up, Somi. I’m going to be in charge, and you’re going to do whatever I say. I’m your master now. You’ll respond to all my questions, ending your answer with master. Am I understood?”

“Yes,” Somi says, nodding quickly. You pull back the riding crop and deliver a strong strike to Somi’s rear. The woman yelps, the sting from the hit lingering on her body. “Yes, Master!”

“Good.” You look around the room and notice a full-length mirror in the corner. You smile to yourself and look through your restraints until you find the right one. You command the young woman to look in the mirror, and she follows along with a quick “Yes, Master.” Staring into the mirror, Somi sees the collar around her neck, the word “Slut” emblazoned on it. Somi felt an aching in her cunt; this was what she wanted, and more than anything, she wanted to touch herself right now. You pull Somi’s arms back, tying her wrists to her ankles and pushing her onto the floor. Somi had her ass raised in the air; she felt your riding crop run move along her ass. She felt you move lower, teasing her folds. She moaned softly but pursed her lips, trying to stay quiet. “Here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to whip this pretty little ass until it’s bright red, and for every hit, you’re going to thank me.” You pull back the riding crop and smack Somi’s ass, watching it jiggle as the young woman thanks you for the hit.

Somi stared at the mirror, waiting with anticipation for every hit. She was getting so wet; every hit felt so good she was nearly forgetting to thank you. She wanted to cry out for more but feared you would stop if she mentioned it. She arched her back, raising her ass higher to ask for more of the delicious pain. “Thank you, Master!” She moans. Somi could barely see the redness making its way into view. She could feel herself getting closer to cumming, and you hadn’t even touched her yet. You paused your strike, switching out the riding crop for a short whip. The new strike made Somi cry out as more pain was handed to her. Somi bit her lip, watching as you whipped her ass. She continued to thank you for every hit. By now, her ass was the bright red you were after; the riding crop and whip left their marks on her body.

You kneel beside Somi and place your hand on her ass, squeezing the battered flesh. “You did a good job. You didn’t make a mistake. We’ll do this longer next time.” You move your hand down and push two fingers inside Somi. She raises her head and moans, nearly cumming from it. You feel her walls clamp down around your fingers as you curl them and rub against her G-spot. Somi cries out, her body pushed over the edge. She squirms as her orgasm comes. “Little baby came from just that? That won’t do.”

“I’m sorry, Master. I’m sorry.” Somi cries, her mind becoming foggy. You hook your arms around the young woman and lift her, throwing her onto her bed. You get behind Somi and rub your cock against her slit, making her whimper. Still bound, Somi can only beg for you to put it in. “I’ll be a good girl, Master. I promise. I won’t cum unless you tell me to. Please, I need you inside me. Please fuck me.” A small part of her couldn’t believe what she was saying, but it was the truth. She wanted you; she needed you to fuck her. You spank the idol, making her cry out. The pain felt so good to Somi, but it also got her to shut up.

Reaching back into your bag, you pull out a ball gag and quickly put it on the young woman, silencing her. You go back to rubbing your cock against Somi’s slit. The ball gag contained Somi’s moans, allowing you to enjoy yourself. Once your cock was slick with her nectar, you prodded her entrance, struggling to fit inside her small cunt. Somi could feel your cock, press against her entrance; you were big, and you were going to split her in half. You pushed against her entrance, forcing yourself inside. Somi’s eyes rolled into the back of her head as she felt your cock stretching her out. Her muffled moans wouldn’t stop as you stuffed her. You kept one hand on her ass, your grip growing tighter as you reached for her leash and pulled Somi’s head back, choking her. Every inch continued to stretch the young woman; her toes were curling, and another orgasm was coming, threatening to wipe her away.

You were halfway in when you decided to say screw it and rammed the rest of your length inside her. Somi screamed into her ball gag as she came. Her walls wrapped tightly around your cock, coating it in her juices as Somi felt her world disappearing. Pleasure filled her body, her mind broken as she felt your cock pulse inside her. You let go of the leash and pull your cock out slowly, leaving just the tip inside.

In the next moment, your ram your cock all the way inside her body. Somi cried out; you were destroying her, reshaping her pussy into your image. You pulled back again and thrust into her roughly, beginning a consistent rhythm. You reveled in the pleasure, enjoying how Somi’s tight cunt held on to you. She was nearly as good as Chaeyoung. As you’re thrusting, you reach over and undo her restraints before tugging back on Somi’s leash. Now free from her bindings, Somi’s upper body moved along with her head. You continued to thrust into the young woman, pushing her to another orgasm as you moved your arm across her chest and held her in place. You grabbed one of the toys you had set out earlier and waited until Somi was on the verge of another climax.

Somi was close, too. Her moans only got louder as she felt your cock ramming into her womb. She was tightening around you again. You made your move as you impaled her on your cock and made her cum against you, put clamps on her nipples, and pulled them. Somi screamed into the ball gag; she looked down and watched as her skin stretched as you pulled on the chain between the clamps. It was too much; Somi squirted, tainting her bedding with her nectar as you made her orgasm continue. Somi’s head was spinning, and she was losing track of what was happening.

You continued to ram your cock into the idol, nearing your climax. You undid the ball gag and listened to Somi’s hoarse moans. Your cock began to throb, and you closed in on the young woman. “I’m going to cum inside you, Somi. Take it all.” Somi eyes were half-lidded, she was barely aware of what was happening, but she knew one thing, and that was she needed to take your cum. You bury yourself inside Somi, ramming into her womb. You paint her walls white as you unleash a torrent of cum, filling her belly with it. Somi moaned softly as she felt your hot cum pour inside her ruined body. The moment you let her go, she collapsed onto her bed. You keep yourself inside Somi, thrusting softly as her walls milk you.

Pulling out of the young woman, you watch as your cum flows from her gaping cunt. You climb out of bed and roll Somi over to the bed’s edge, making sure her head hangs over it. The barely conscious woman wakes up a little more as you slap her cheeks with your cock. “You’re going to clean me up now.”

“Yes, Master,” Somi mumbles, opening her mouth for you. You slide yourself into Somi’s mouth, pushing your entire length inside her before pulling out. You groan, enjoying her throat’s tightness before moving back into it. Somi lies there taking your cock, barely able to breathe as you stretch her throat too. While she’s cleaning your cock, you take the time to play with her tits, tugging at the chain between her nipple clamps and pulling her skin taut. Somi moans around your cock, her throat vibrating and making the experience more pleasurable. You let go of the chain and touch her bare tits, squeezing them roughly. “Next time, I’ll make sure to use these things.” You tell Somi. Nearing another climax, you begin thrusting quicker, slapping Somi’s face with your balls as you do. Just as you’re about to cum, you pull out, giving Somi one last chance to breathe. She unwittingly takes it, and when you stuff your cock back down her throat, you cum. Somi’s forced to drink every drop as you unload into her stomach. You roar as her throat begins to close around you. Just as she was about to run out of breath, you pulled out and used the last of your load to paint Somi’s face, covering it in a thick layer of your semen.

You move away from Somi, grabbing your phone. “Somi, look over here and smile for the picture.” Somi rolls onto her stomach and smiles. The picture shows her messy hair, painted face, and collar. She was a natural slut. You begin dressing yourself and putting everything away except for the collar. You pat the young woman’s chest and smile at her. “You’ve earned that, Somi. You’re just like Chaeyoung, one of my prized sluts.”

Somi smiles weakly, “Thank you, Master.” After you leave, Somi lies in the same place, her body tired and full of cum. Her only thoughts were about you and what you did to her. Somi placed a hand on her sore cunt, recoiling slightly as she pushed two fingers in and played with herself. She couldn’t get you out of her mind; at home, she refused to take off the collar, feeling more natural with it on. She looked at pictures she had taken of the aftermath and masturbated to them. She texted day after day to come over, but you would decide when to deal with her.

The next time she and Chaeyoung met, Somi explained the whole thing, how she was struggling without you. “I told you, you’re ruined for all men. Nothing is ever going to feel like his touch.” Chaeyoung said, rubbing herself over her jeans. “I miss it so much, what I wouldn’t give to be his slave again.”

Somi had an idea when she heard that. “Come over to my house and join me! Please, I need him, and he isn’t responding to me; maybe if I tell him we’re both there, he’ll respond.” The idea made Chaeyoung wet; getting to experience you again would be like heaven to her.

She shut it down, though, “I can’t. I have a boyfriend now.” She hated herself for saying no, seeing how desperate Somi had reminded Chaeyoung of what you did to her. The conversation soon dwindled between the two as Chaeyoung thought about how much she wanted you and whether giving up her relationship would be worth it. Somi could only think about what to do to get you to respond to her.

A couple of weeks later, as Somi got ready to perform, she saw a familiar number on her phone. Somi saw the notification pop up; she looked around quickly before clicking on your message. Her heart leaped for joy when she saw you had accepted the request. When she saw you accepted her request, she was more than ready to drop everything and head home, but her manager stopped her.  During her entire performance, she thought about you, and she rushed home afterward.

When you got to her door, you found Somi waiting for you. A bright smile on her face as she bowed to you, raising her head only to show off the collar she loved so much. “Welcome home, Master.”

[rafey-baby]

older!rafe and sensitive!reader spending the holidays together

18+ mdni! 

c/w: fluff, her ovulating and being horny, smut: p-in-v, slight breeding kink, use of dad

wc: 1.5k

ugh i’ve missed this man

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Why is he doin’ that shit?”  

“Rafe, it’s a rom-com,” she reasons, practically glued to him on their couch with the way she keeps shifting closer and closer, almost unconsciously at this point.   

“Yeah, a shitty one. Why was it necessary to do a whole fuckin’ speech at the mall? He couldn’t jus’ I dunno, tell her how he felt?” he scoffs, clearly fed up with the entire film already. 

She can’t stop the bubbly laughter from escaping her when she looks over to his scowling face. “I mean, this is actually getting kinda weird…why’s everyone watching them?” 

“Yeah, ‘n why are they still on that fuckin’ stage?” he grumbles while the couple is now fully making out on the TV screen. 

“Please don’t ever do anything like that to me.”

“Yeah, was actually gonna ask, you, uh, you wanna go shoppin’ tomorrow?” 

“No!” she giggles before taking a sip of the hot chocolate she’d made for herself (because Rafe deliberately told her he didn’t want any) but the minute she’d sat down with the mug in hand, he’d wanted to try it, which ended up with him drinking nearly half of it.  

“Oh shit, forgot to give you this earlier, look what I got you today,” he suddenly murmurs. 

“Hm?” her eyes flit over to his face; momentarily distracted by his pretty features as he searches for something from the back pocket of his pants. Then, he’s pulling a golden necklace from a velvety box.    

“That looks really expensive,” she nervously mumbles, pausing the TV in order to concentrate on the heart-shaped locket he’s holding out to her.   

“You deserve the fuckin’ world, it was nothin’ alright? Can think of it as an early Christmas present if it makes you feel better,” he rolls his eyes, almost exasperated that she still can’t seem to comprehend the fact that he enjoys spending his money on her.    

“It’s so beautiful,” she croons as she inspects the piece of jewelry with careful fingertips, heart swelling in her chest at the sentiment— recalling how she’d mentioned something about thinking pendants like these were adorable maybe once.    

“Yeah? You like it?”    

“I love it. Wait, you had your initials carved into it too? That’s so cute, Ray, what the hell?” she feels her eyes grow watery because her boyfriend really is her favorite person in the whole wide world for a reason.    

“Yeah, know you’re into sappy shit like that, ‘n you can put m’picture inside too ‘n you’ll always have me with you or whatever the fuck.”    

“Shut up, you’re so sweet! I love you,” she exclaims before she’s wrapping her arms around his neck— climbing into his lap in the process while he murmurs into her hair how he apparently ‘loves her more’, which she thinks is not possible.    

“Let me put it on you?” he says before he’s swiping away some strands in order to clasp the locket around her neck. “Look so pretty with m’name on you.”

“Wait, you should have my name on you too,” she jokingly utters out next.  

“Been thinkin’ about gettin’ it tattooed actually,” he admits, completely serious, which makes her face scrunch up.  

“You’re not getting my name tattooed on you— you’re crazy,” she softly hits his chest. However, he can barely even feel it because she really doesn’t have a single violent bone in her body.   

“Yeah, crazy ‘bout you,” he grins, eliciting an airy giggle from her.    

Knowing she’s about to complain about him being weird again, he shuts her up with a press of his mouth against hers— a surprised noise leaving her when she’s momentarily taken aback by the sudden cushion of his lips. 

And it’s sloppy, the way they slot together like puzzle pieces when she opens up for him, but both of them prefer it that way. 

His kiss was meant to be something sweet but soon enough she’s rutting against him— whimpering into his mouth as if it’s been years since the last time they did this. And all too soon for her liking, he’s pulling away.

“Somethin’ you want?”  

“…no,” she lies through her teeth.    

“No? Jus’ uh, humpin’ me like a bitch in heat for no reason then, hm?” he raises his brows; eyes fixed on her frustrated features.    

“Ray...” she huffs out; a frown already forming on her spit-slicked lips.    

“Yeah?” he asks, giving her a soft peck as encouragement.    

“Want you…” she pants against his mouth.    

“But m’right here?” the furrow of his brows displays faux confusion.  

“You know what I mean,” she whines; shifting around in his lap some more.    

“M’afraid I don’t. If there’s somethin’ you want, you gonna have to tell me,” the edge of his mouth curls annoyingly when he decides to toy with her, always finding so much entertainment from her struggle.     

However, she merely grants him another whine.   

“Wha’s up with you today, hm? So fuckin’ needy, actin’ like you haven’t been fucked in a month when you were literally cryin’ on m’cock last night?” he murmurs while thumbing at her pouty bottom lip.   

“I don’t know…jus’ need you so bad,” her eyes begin to gloss over when he’s still not giving her what she so desperately craves.    

“Baby, there’s no need to cry, yeah?” he sticks his thumb past her lips; an attempt to placate her, even if he thinks she never looks prettier than with her eyes all wet and forlorn.   

“You’re ovulatin’ right now, aren’t ya?” his brain finally fits together the very telltale signs as he plucks his phone from the coffee table— opening the app that tracks her period cycle.  

“Think so, yeah,” she mumbles, mindlessly sucking on the digit resting on her tongue as she sniffles.  

It’s no surprise to either of them when his assumption proves to be right.    

“Think you need me to fuck a baby in you, s’that it? Wanna make me a real daddy?” he croons.    

“Mhm…want you,” her words are muffled around his thumb.    

“I know, sweetheart. Don’t want anyone but you carryin’ m’kids— think about knockin’ you up so fuckin’ often, you know?”    

“You do?”    

“Yeah, know you’d be such a good mom.”    

“You think? I think you’d be the best dad, sometimes wish you were my dad,” she rambles mindlessly, the conversation suddenly teetering on the edge of something else entirely.    

“Shit, such an angel face ‘n then there’s this rotten mind inside, huh?” he tuts in disapproval, appearing disgusted as if he doesn’t get even harder in response to her words— something raw, primitive stirring in the pit of his stomach whenever she says things like that.    

“M’sorry dad,” she offers him an impish smile.  

“Someone’s in a mood today?” he chuckles, narrowing his eyes in a playful manner.    

“Can you take off your pants?” she complains while attempting to loosen his belt but with her mind buzzing like a honeybee it’s proving to be a rather demanding.   

“Can’t do anythin’ without dad’s help, can you? Go on, let’s see if you can take me out by yourself, yeah?” he rasps out, tone challenging.    

“No, need your help, daddy, I can’t—”  

“Shit, you’re fuckin’ pathetic,” he murmurs, somehow managing to turn something so patronizing into something affectionate as he swats away her helpless hands and yanks the belt open himself.    

“See? Not that fuckin’ hard, was it?” he mutters out as his thumb slips out of her mouth before he’s pulling himself out. And even if he’s not even fully hard yet, and she’s seen it more times than she can count, she’s still mesmerized by the sight— eyes rounding out while she simply stares as if she’s under some spell.    

“You’re so pretty,” she blinks at him, eyes moony.    

“Still not tired of seein’ it, huh?”   

She shakes her head.   

And since she’s not wearing any pants (as usual), he only has to tug the fabric of her underwear to the side in order to reveal her messy cunt.    

“Ray…” she whines when he merely smears the drippy head over her folds; thudding it against her clit to get her to whimper some more.  

“Hm? Want it inside? Wha’s the magic word?” he looks at her with something amused twinkling in his eyes.   

“Please. Dad, it hurts,” she sniffles, desperately trying to rub against him in an attempt to alleviate the ache.    

“Hurts? Think you bein’ a little dramatic, no?” he lets out a breathy chuckle, making her huff out in frustration.   

“M’not, Ray, please, need you so bad,” wet droplets stain her cheeks while she tries to uselessly blink them away.    

“Shh, s’okay. Dad’s bein’ mean again, isn’t he? M’sorry, baby, I’ll give you what you want, yeah?” his voice is a deep rumble before he’s finally tucking the tip into her weepy cunt, causing both of them to moan in tandem when she practically sucks him in— his fingerprints denting the skin of her thighs when he aids her movements to his liking.   

“Yeah? That what you wanted? Always such a tight fuckin’ fit, huh?” he grunts against her mouth; hips meeting hers halfway as he stuffs himself deeper.  

“Mm, I love you,” she whimpers— practically feeling him in her guts as his cock pokes at the spongy spot inside her while his big hands help situate her on top of him, and she thinks this might just be heaven on earth.

[moonlitwitchdaisy]

Gift Ribbon

“suguru—fuckkk…” the words slipped past your lips as you rode your fiancé’s massive cock, blindfolded and with your hands tied.

“sssshh, baby. you wouldn’t want to wake the girls, would you?”

oh no, you definitely wouldn’t. having the girls catch you—their soon-to-be mother—and their father in such a filthy, compromising position was definitely not part of the plan.

“but—but…” the sound of your bodies colliding filled the room, and once again, you questioned how you’d ended up like this. yet every time suguru’s cock hit that sensitive, pleasure-filled spot inside you, all your thoughts evaporated.

god, it felt so good.

you had always welcomed your fiancé’s cock with greedy enthusiasm. the way your warm, snug walls clenched around his cock made it impossible not to surrender yourself as his little plaything, eager to do anything he wanted.

“s-shit…” suguru leaned his head back, groaning. “just like that, baby. ride my cock so hard that tomorrow morning—ugh—every step you take reminds you of this moment.” his head lolled against the back of the couch, one hand moving to toy with your sensitive nipple.

this was torture. exquisite, mind-numbing torture. with your hands bound and your vision stolen, you were utterly at his mercy, drunk on the way his massive cock stretched you open. and the way he pinched and played with your nipple only heightened the intoxicating pleasure.

“sugu—baby…” your head tilted back as a loud moan spilled from your lips. you had no strength left to keep going. your hips had been rolling against his cock with quick, rhythmic movements, but the effort was taking its toll.

“oh, is my baby getting tired?” his teasing drawl sent a flood of heat to your cheeks, and you cursed softly under your breath.

his large fingers were still playing with your nipple, alternating between gentle strokes and firm squeezes. sometimes, he’d roll it between his fingers, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

he was entirely in control.

“guess I can’t let my fiancée wear herself out, huh?” in one smooth motion, suguru pulled you flush against his chest, the hand that had been tormenting your nipple now gripping your waist. he started thrusting into you, deep and hard.

his pace was relentless, his thick cock filling you up in a way that made you want to melt into him forever. the soft, velvety tip kept brushing against your g-spot with every thrust, making you wish you could stay like this—utterly wrecked and ruined by him. but the need to keep quiet gnawed at the back of your mind. if you got too loud, the girls might wake up. so, desperate to muffle your moans, you bit into his left shoulder.

“fuckin’ feral girl… hah, you know that only turns me on more, don’t you?” one of his hands slid to the back of your neck, pulling your head up from his shoulder. his lips crashed onto yours in a bruising, desperate kiss.

there was nothing gentle about it. suguru’s tongue invaded your mouth, his kisses hungry and wild, claiming every inch of you. you wanted to tangle your fingers in his hair and pull him even closer, but your hands were still bound behind you.

even as his lips devoured yours, his hips never faltered. each deep, rough thrust sent sparks of pleasure shooting through you, his cock pushing deeper, harder. the slick mix of his precum and your arousal dripped down your thighs, evidence of how completely he owned you in this moment.

suguru geto always fucked you like he worshipped every inch of you.

when he finally broke away from the kiss, gasping for air, you managed to stammer, “you’re too fast… c-can you just slow—”

“slow down? not a chance, baby. I know you’re close. fuck—this pussy is going to be the death of me… FUCK.” he yanked you tighter against him, his forehead pressed against your shoulder, his growls vibrating through your skin. his hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he pounded into you with a feral intensity.

“come for me—fuck—come all over my cock, baby… OH GOD—” his voice broke into a guttural groan as you felt his thick, hot release flood you. the warmth of it sent you over the edge, your walls clamping down around him as you came with a cry muffled against his shoulder.

neither of you moved, both of you panting heavily as you tried to catch your breath. his cock remained buried inside you, still twitching slightly as the aftershocks ran through both of your bodies. your hands were still bound, your vision stolen by the blindfold, leaving you completely at his mercy.

pressing his lips softly to your ear, he whispered, his voice low and rough, “merry christmas, my soon-to-be wife.” his fingers brushed over the silky ribbon tying your wrists, the same one he’d used to bind his favorite present of the night—you.

all rights belong to the @moonlitwitchdaisy do not copy, reproduce, or translate my work.

[hurlingdown]

                     THE BAAAAD TOUCH!

synopsis. there’s a very thin line between the way animals fuck on the discovery channel and the way you fuck them. featuring shameless, rough sex with the arcane men, and a third secret option at the end. jayce, vander, silco, viktor.

tags. top! reader, sub! jayce, vander, silco, viktor. reader has a cock. rough anal sex, creampie(s), exhibitionism, infidelity, cumslut! jayce, doggy, riding, size difference, huge cock, belly bulge, size queen! viktor, sweat kink, strength kink, breeding kink, implied marathon sex, dirty talk, degradation, praise kink, excessive amounts of manhandling, age difference, established relationships. cock-hungrified men. (lmao)

a/n. inspired by this song from bloodhound gang.

“does she know?” you pant into his ear, grip strong and sweaty on his hips, and jayce feels dirty, the way he’s being mounted like a bitch. “does she know about the way i fuck you? the sounds you make when i fill your pretty hole up?”  

he shudders, shaking his head, nails raking down your biceps as he tries to lift his head, to be less vulnerable in the way you’re taking him, but to no avail. he feels the hot burn of your palm at the back of his neck, and he finds himself back with his cheek pressed against the sheets, back arching with the violence of forcing his body to accommodate both pleasure and pain plowing away at his dignity. 

 “fuck!” he gasps, “let’s not, nnngh! talk about this. not, not right now.” it’s not the first time you’ve brought mel up in a conversation, but hardly ever more than an offhand comment, something to tease, something for fun. this… this was unknown territory. 

“why? you don’t like it?” there’s a strange displacement in your voice, a touch whiny, as though you were pouting at his denial. jayce thinks he’s going insane, because as manipulative as you were, there was no way he could say no to you. not with that look on your face. the one he can’t see but knows it’s there. 

“doesn’t matter,” jayce whispers. “it’s not ri- right.” 

you want to laugh. it’s not right? so it’s all right and just if he sneaks into your bed almost every other night for you to get him off simply because said girlfriend never could—nights of sweat and sinful lovemaking that end with him sneaking out of your room with a limp—but it’s not okay if you want to talk about it? how was that fair? 

“you don’t like her anyway, do you?” you mutter. “you should just get rid of her and be with me.” you tighten your hold on him. you want it to bruise. you want him to go home with your marks on his body. you want mel to ask about them and jayce squirming as he tries to think of a stupid excuse to fool her again. faulty gym equipment. sparring session gone wrong. you know all of his excuses. it’s funny, the way he tries to patch things up. “this is cruel… to the both of us. don’t you wanna get this over with?” 

“it’s- unh, complicated!” jayce moans, but there’s nothing complicated about it, he just doesn’t want to talk. doesn’t want to feel the shame and guilt making his guts tangle and heart pound—the way you fit into him so perfectly, so innately, like you’ve always belonged inside him, a missing piece to his puzzle. 

he bites back a whine as the thick head of your cock pushes against his swollen prostate, and he’s not sure if he can even feel his legs at this point. it’s humiliating, the way you’re cooing nasty words into his ear, handprints branding his hips as you tug him up only to slam downwards against him, pushing him further down into the mattress with every heavy thrust. 

“why? what’s keeping you then? hah. don’t tell me. does she fuck you like this too?” you snarl, sucking hot purple bruises down the column of his neck, salt and iron underneath your tongue making you hungry, and he keens. “so desperate for cock you’d let your girlfriend fuck you, jayce? well? does she fuck you as good as i do?” 

“noo,” jayce slurs, shaking his head, “nothing’s as good. you’re the best. love it. love you.” 

“really?” you bark out a laugh, and he nods dumbly, like his body’s conditioned to respond to your every whim, wanting to please, to serve. “well, i don’t see it at all. only thing you could ever be in love with is my cock.” 

“ah- ah, yeah, that too,” he whines, “love you more.” 

“liar,” you growl, and he sobs out at the way your length drags across his walls, thick and girthy, missing his prostate on purpose. it’s a punishment, jayce knows. he’s sorry. he feels so guilty. “pretty slutty liar. you’ll do anything to get stuffed, won’t you? even if it means cheating on your little girlfriend. you’ll even enjoy it, the moment you break her heart.” 

jayce shakes his head, tears blurring his vision. he can’t even say anything at this point, with the way you’re forcing him to take, fucking the words out of him. he can’t help being addicted to this. it’s too good. mel would understand, wouldn’t she? she would, if only she could have a taste of it. it’s not his fault. not really. 

“you probably think she’ll never know. you probably think she’ll never find out.” you’re talking again, but the sounds buzz by, intelligible. jayce swallows, letting your accusation wash over him. he has been careful, hasn’t he. surely she won’t know. surely she can’t know. “the way you start crying when you’re about to cum. you think she’ll never know about that, right?” 

he doesn’t know what you mean, but it’s so hard to think. there’s wetness on his cheeks and the low flame in his belly has blazed into a forest fire. he wants to cum. he needs it. he needs it hard and rough, bruises on his waist and hips and love bites on his collarbones, hard, heavy thrusts that make him feel dizzy and high and stupid, drowning him in the throes of pleasure that only you can give to him. 

“please,” jayce begs, tears streaming down his face. “i want, ngh… ah, want your cum in me.” 

and before he knows it, there’s the rush of hot cum flooding his hole, the sweaty press of your chest against his back, your hips trembling and bucking against his, and it’s so good it makes him see stars. but you don’t stop. it’s messy and filthy, and pure bliss when he feels you snake a hand into his hair and wrench his head up, rough and careless just the way he likes it. 

his eyes roll back before his cock starts helplessly spurting at the sight of mel standing in the doorway, watching him being bred like a whore.

VANDER

. . . vander thinks he maybe maybe made a mistake, telling you to be rough with him. because this is exactly the kind of rough he likes. 

“oh, fuck, sweetness,” he moans, arousal bleeding into his guttural voice as he arches his back and cants his hips backwards to receive your thrusts, taking you deeper inside, his ass bouncing every time you meet his hips with a wet, nasty ‘pap’. “t-thaat’s it, kid. right there, fuck, harder…” 

he’s clutching his pillow tightly, waves of pleasure shackling him to the bed as you’re pounding away at his hole from behind. you’ve snaked a hand into his hair to wrench his head up roughly, and a low whine pushes its way past his lips, punctuated by a sharp, deadly thrust aimed at his prostate. he’s pretty sure his own cock’s rubbed raw against the sheets, spurting so much pre there’s a sticky, slippery pool underneath him—easing the steamy push and glide. 

there are stars bursting at the corners of his eyes, threatening to consume his vision, and he can vaguely feel his toes curl and thighs spasm at every brush of your cock against his bundle of nerves. there’s sweat dripping down his face, a salty tang on his tongue, and he wipes his forehead with the back of his hand, hearing nothing but his own heavy pants and groans, attuned to the rhythm of your thrusts. it’s too good. almost makes him feel young again. he’s halfway through his forties, and yet you’re fucking him like he’s twenty. 

vander can feel your hands all over him, pressing heavy bruises onto the tender fat of his waist and hips, bodily dragging him back onto your cock every time you ram forward, making sure to put your entire weight behind it. the mattress is letting out horrible creaking sounds, the headboard of the bed slamming into the wall in perfect tempo, and the both of you are going to regret this later, but fuck, he doesn’t care. 

it’s addicting. it’s violent. vander shouldn’t be enjoying this, but he is. 

“fuck, love, y’er gonna make me cum already,” he chokes out, and it’s more of a drunken slur, really — there’s something about the way you’re treating him that makes him dizzy and weak at the knees. his fists are clenched, grasping at the bedsheets every time he feels like snaking a hand between his legs and jerking off to your thrusts. he wants to enjoy it, savour it—the way you’re taking him, pressing him into the mattress like you’re trying to break the bed before you break him, gaze hungry enough to swallow him up in your lust. 

“go ahead and cum, vander,” you drawl, grabbing a handful of his ass before sharply spanking him across, the sting rewarding you with a full-body shiver. “i want you to cum like it’s your last night on earth.” 

who the absolute fuck does this kid think he is, vander thinks, and he quickly buries his face back into the pillow because he knows he’s going to get loud. you’re insane. insanely bad at dirty talk, but your hunger makes up for it. he’s never liked dirty talking that much, but fuck, if you weren’t something different. cum like it’s his last night on earth? he really underestimated how greedy you were. 

“cocky,” he wheezes instead, once he’s caught his breath, “y’er gonna, haah, hafta fuck me harder for that to happen.” it’s yet another bad decision, and he’s digging his own grave, he knows it. as if you aren’t already fucking him within an inch of his life—the bulbous shape of your cockhead digging into his prostate with such immaculate precision, pressing the shape of your handprints into his skin as you fuck him with your eyes, your hands and your cock. 

hungry. intense. unforgettable. vander doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of it. 

before he can even breathe, you’ve hooked one arm under his thigh, tossing him over onto his back like you’re flipping a fucking pancake, and vander’s not a delicate man by all means. without wasting a second, you’re pushing inside him again, groaning shamelessly as his wet, warm cave engulfs you perfectly. vander makes a desperate noise, eyes squeezing shut—there’s no pillow to muffle his cries or hide his expressions from you this time, but he’s far too close to be embarrassed. 

the new position’s got you so deep inside him, and it’s getting harder to breathe, almost as though he could feel you all the way to his throat. it’s uncomfortable and very inconsiderate of his aching back, but the mind-numbing pleasure hammering away at his sweet spot makes up for it. 

“s-so fuckin’ good, kid,” he pants out, arching his back with a moan as you reach down to grope at his tits, the muscles plump and soft with tender age, hole clenching around you tightly every time you tug at his perky nipples. his cock’s all leaky, drooling over his stomach and making a mess, and he’s so aroused it’s almost endearing. “fuck me… god, fuck me.” 

he’s going to cum hands-free, vander thinks, and shit, you’re going to be so smug about this after you’re done with having your way with him. vander sneaks a glance at you—eyelids fluttering, making little grunts of pleasure every time you bully your way into his tight wet warmth. it embarrassingly makes the back of his neck burn, makes him feel all hot and sexy and wanted. 

“yeah? best cock you’ve ever taken, vander?” you purr, and his breath stutters, seizing up with a yell and then he’s fucking cumming with you balls-deep inside him. guess you’ll take that as a yes.

SILCO

silco doesn’t know how long he’s been bent over in that same fucking position, but he doesn’t plan on making you stop anytime soon. 

“darling, not so rough. . .” he gasps out, nails raking down the expensive wood of his office desk while you plow away at him from behind, his hole sopping wet but tight, as though you haven’t cum two times in him already. he can feel his knees knocking into the hard front of the desk with every brutal thrust, the weeping tip of his erection grazing the cool mahogany, the pleasure inside him making his lower belly burn with a flame he hasn’t felt in a long time. 

“why?” you grin, draping yourself over his half-clothed stature, his pants yanked down to his ankles as he’s bent over to take. you shuffle forward, making sure his ass is pressed snugly against your crotch before giving an experimental roll of your hips, always reaching deeper, for more. “worried that they’ll hear?” 

silco presses his lips together in a thin line, tilting his face away from yours, and if you didn’t know any better, you would have thought he were sulking. you laughed. it was just too easy to piss him off sometimes. 

“i’m just playing around, baby. your office is soundproofed, no?” you straightened yourself, running a hand over the smooth, sensitive expanse of his back before returning to your firm grip on his bruised hips. he gave a shuddering sigh, trying to relax as you started to rock into him again with strong, steady thrusts. 

“it doesn’t matter,” he rasps, “we’re, hah, being too loud… sweetheart. s-sevika is right outside.” 

“don’t care,” you mutter. “i’m pent up. ‘least you can do is let me fuck you stupid. you’ll let me, right?” 

silco makes a noise at the back of his throat, half from displeasure, the other half from the sharp curl of arousal in his lower abdomen, making his cock twitch and leak. fuck if it didn’t turn him on when you talked to him like this. he settles for burying his face into his arms, preparing himself for whatever you were going to put him through. 

“be gentle,” he whispers, letting out a shuddering sigh. “i’m not so young anymore.” 

you could feel a grin pulling at the corners of your lips. yeah. sure, you were going to be gentle with him. with him looking like that. 

“hngh, r-right there…” silco mewls out, knees buckling repeatedly as he tries not to think about how loud he’s being. he supposes he could gag himself with something, your fingers, maybe, get them warm and wet for you while you use his face as leverage to fuck him harder, but he knows how much his noises spur you on, and right now he really doesn’t want to piss you off. not when you’re indulging him so well. “that’s it… you’re so good… darling.” 

“not so shy anymore?” you hummed, licking a hot stripe up his neck, his gasp twisting into a whine. “think we can make you louder?” 

“sweetheart,” he sighs as he feels your hand wrap around his throat, and he tilts his head back to let you grip it properly. “you already know what i want.” 

“well, i don’t think so.” you smile, leaning down to press your cheek against his, working away from behind with short, firm thrusts that steal his breath away. “remind me. did we use the magic word yet?” 

but just as he’s about to answer with snark, there’s the rap of fists against his office door, and silco feels his heart plummet. not now, when things were about to get good—this was the worst timing possible. “everything alright, boss?” 

“yes,” silco pants, “fuck… yes.” 

you can feel his nails dig into the back of your thigh, warning you not to pull out. you’re thick and heavy, resting against his stomach, and silco feels so fucking good and full. you can’t stop now. not until he’s had his fill. he can vaguely feel your warm seed trailing its way down his perineum in a slow trickle, and fuck, he wants more. wants to feel stuffed even without you inside him, drowsy and content. 

he blinks, brows furrowing as he catches himself fantasizing about you yet again. should he even be having thoughts like these in his forties? was this healthy? sex with you was life-changingly—and now apparently hormone-alteringly good. 

“sir?” sevika’s growl interrupts his train of thought. and yeah, not to mention—his second-in-command is right outside his office, while all he can think about is cock. shit. your big, leaky cock, buried to the hilt inside his hole. he wonders if it’ll be gaping once you’re done with him. and oh. cum. loads of your cum, filling up every inch of space inside him. making it hard to breathe. making him swel— “is someone in there with you?” 

“yes,” silco wheezes dumbly as you roll your hips against him with meaning, forcing him to take you deeper. he trembles, shifting back slightly to fuck himself on your cock, forcing a sharp inhale from you. “we are busy. you’re, oh… dismissed, sevika.” 

the silence is loud, save for the almost-silent squelches of your cock maneuvering inside him with all the cum stored in his belly. 

you can feel his heart pounding from the way your chest is pressed against his bare back. or maybe it’s your own. his walls squeeze around you, sinfully tight, pulling a muffled moan from where you have your teeth sunken into his shoulder. fuck. he’s—silco’s actually into this. you’d have never guessed he would be such a freak, for lack of a better word, but with how things were going . . . you didn’t mind it. not one bit. it drove you crazy with want, if anything. 

“... if you say so, boss.” the sound of retreating footsteps fills you with both relief and disappointment, but before you could even process what that means, you can feel silco gazing at you through his lashes, low and scrutinizing and something needy. 

“did i say you could stop?” silco grunts. “fuck me.” 

you let out a shaky sigh, hips already bucking back into the warm mould of your cock—and the next sound that drives past his lips is a loud and unabashed sob of your name. 

you think you might have unlocked something new in your lover.

VIKTOR

“it won’t fit,” viktor slurs, moans tumbling out of his mouth as he gives a shaky roll of his hips. he’s not quite there yet, with only the tip sucked in, but he’s making good progress. “i’m terribly s-sorry, dear. your… appendage. it’s too big.” 

his eyes flutter shut at the feeling of your hands forming a ring around his waist, strong and firm, a warm assurance that there was a possibility… although slight, that he’d make it. 

“it’ll fit,” you murmur, kissing the sensitive spot at the back of his ear, the one that makes him suck in a sharp breath and shudder. “you’re doing very good, love. just… a little more, yeah?” 

viktor looks down. it’s nowhere near a little more. you’re barely halfway in and he’s already thinking about quitting—has been, since the stupidly huge head of your cock breached his rim, making him feel a stretch that no amount of fingers or plastic toys could replicate. it was something extraordinary. overwhelmingly so. 

“please,” he mewls, forehead dropping to rest on your shoulder. “t-touch me? i think i’ll probably, hah, ease up a little if you would… oh, yes. thank you, dear. thank you.” 

it’s… in simple words, too much. you’re usually very considerate, taking your time with him with your fingers, rubbing on his tender walls until he loosens enough for you to slip another one in. the night would then end with you fucking his thighs, sticky and slick with his own cum. it’s good. it’s enough. that was until he started having thoughts of what it would feel like if you were inside him. 

but viktor would’ve never imagined it would be like this. the difference in size was just… comical. you were so deep inside him already, the impossible girth forming an obscene bulge over his abdomen, making him whine with the fullness. if this is already what it feels like to have you inside, then just what would it feel like to have you spill inside him?

he can’t lie—he’s spent nights waiting for you to fall asleep first so that he could scoop up some of the cum you had missed on the sheets, quietly fingering himself with the cold slickness. it didn’t feel right, even if it was yours. it just wasn’t the same. he wanted, no, needed to feel it for himself. 

it doesn’t help, the way you’re stroking him, ever so gentle with him. your huge palm covers his entire length without having to move much, huge thumb rubbing at his leaking tip, and viktor’s never been so hard before in his whole life. he’s so close already, hole fluttering around you uncontrollably, and it’s almost cute how it looks like it’s going to swallow you up. maybe it is. 

maybe it’ll fit. 

“last few inches,” you pant, fingers trembling slightly where you’re struggling not to press bruises into the cup of his hips. “can i-? please, vik. it’s so good. you’re so good. i just need a little more. please, baby.” 

“yes,” viktor blurts out, before he realises just what he agreed to—but within the next second he can feel something abnormally large pushing its way past his tight walls, faster and rougher than before, even as he tries to clench and hold still—it’s mean and a little too much, but then the back of his thighs meets hot skin and he nearly blacks out with the stretch of it all. 

“ngh,” viktor keens, trembling with exhaustion as he tries to settle into your lap comfortably with such a large intrusion within him. “soo full…” 

you sigh in pleasure, hands going back to his hips where they belong, pushing him down until you’re satisfied that he’s properly taken everything you’ve given him. it’s not a demand, viktor thinks, more like a comfort. telling him that you’ve always known he would’ve been able to take you in the first place. that this is where he belongs, filled to the brim with you and you only. 

he lets out a shuddering moan when you start to slowly bounce him on your lap, lifting him up with ease a good inch or two, before rolling your hips to meet his, pushing yourself deeper. “shit, vik…” you groan, and he cries out with every brush against his prostate, the sheer size of you making it impossible to miss it. “you’re so tight, baby… so perfect. i’m right here with you, okay? easy now, you’re doing so good.” 

you’re so good to him as always, whispering sweet nothings into his ear, but it’s different this time, and fuuck. viktor thinks he’s dying with how good it feels. he tries to steer his hips, to actually ride you instead of having you manhandling him up and down your cock, but there’s hardly any friction left now that he’s properly stretched, and any attempt results in him collapsing back to his knees, the pleasure making him weak. 

he settles for hanging onto you, arms wrapping around your neck and choking out little whimpers as you rock upwards into his waiting hole again and again, toes curling and nails scratching red trails down your back with the all-consuming pleasure.

it’s driving him crazy, the fullness, the simple thought of you pumping your seed and sperm into him, of making love with you. it’s nothing like the way it was written in the textbooks he had spent nights researching—it’s beyond anything he would have ever imagined. 

“please,” viktor sobs out, feeling strangely empty every time you pull out halfway, as ironic as it was—as though there was a chance you would leave him fully. the thought of it hurt. if only you could fit inside him forever. if only. “stay…” he cries, “cum inside. m-make me yours.” 

you lean forward, pressing your lips against his in a hurried kiss, at the same time grinding so deep viktor thinks, for a split of a second, that that might be you he’s feeling in his stomach. the broken wail he gives is loud and muffled, and you lap up the drool on the side of his face, watching as your lover’s eyes flutter shut at the feeling of being filled, properly this time, to the brink of spilling.

masterlist!

[jinniejjam]

Breaking Down Walls

✎ CollegeBand!Bang Chan x nerdyAfab!Reader

✎ Nerdy College AU, Emotional, strangers to Lovers, 18+ MDNI! NSFW, Slight breeding Kink and bulge kink, creampie, cunilingus.

✎ 5,9k

✎ Synopsis: Bang Chan, the campus heartthrob, reluctantly seeks help from Y/N, a no-nonsense tutor who doesn’t trust boys like him. As late-night study sessions turn into something more, their differences blur, and unexpected feelings emerge, challenging both their walls.

A/n : hii guyss, another Chan X Nerdy again loll, i just love this trope so muchh! Enjoyy and please don't mind the typo or the grammatical error^^

— Bae

You stared at the email on your laptop screen, a sinking feeling pooling in your stomach.

Dear Y/n,

Professor Lee has recommended you for a special tutoring assignment. The student, Christopher Bang, has been struggling with his coursework and could use your expertise. We believe you are the right person for this. Thank you for your cooperation.

Best,

Academic Support Team

You groaned audibly and smacked your forehead against your desk. Christopher Bang. Everyone on campus called him “Bang Chan,” the lead singer of a campus-famous band. He was the kind of guy who was perpetually surrounded by a sea of admirers, always with an easy grin and a cocky confidence that screamed trouble.

You didn’t have time for trouble.

When Professor Lee mentioned this tutoring opportunity during class, you thought it’d be for someone serious. Someone who genuinely wanted help—not a guy who probably spent more time flirting than studying.

Still, you couldn’t exactly back out now. The professor had personally vouched for you. Besides, you needed the extra credit this gig offered. So, with a deep sigh and a firm resolution to keep things strictly professional, you emailed Chan back to arrange your first meeting.

"Tuesday, 4 PM. Library. Be on time."

It was Tuesday at 4:17 PM, and you were tapping your pen against the library table, glaring at the clock.

Of course, he’s late.

You had your laptop open, notes prepared, and a coffee you’d already drained. The quiet hum of the library did nothing to calm your irritation.

Just as you were about to send him a passive-aggressive follow-up email, you heard footsteps approaching.

“Hey! Sorry, sorry—I got caught up!”

You looked up to see him. Bang Chan, in the flesh. His dark hair was slightly messy, as if he’d just rolled out of bed, and his leather jacket was slung carelessly over his shoulder. He looked every bit the campus heartthrob you’d expected, complete with that infuriatingly charming smile.

“You’re late,” you said flatly, refusing to return his smile.

He raised his hands in mock surrender. “Guilty as charged. Traffic on the way here was brutal.”

“This is a walking campus,” you shot back, raising an eyebrow.

He grinned, unbothered by your sarcasm. “Touché.”

You sighed and motioned for him to sit down. “Let’s get started. I assume you know why you’re here.”

“Enlighten me.” He plopped down across from you, leaning back in the chair with an air of relaxed confidence.

You slid a piece of paper across the table. “Your midterm grades. Let’s just say they’re not exactly... stellar.”

Chan winced as he glanced at the sheet. “Yikes.”

“Yikes indeed,” you said dryly. “If you want to pass this course, you need to take this seriously. No distractions, no excuses.”

“Got it. Serious. No distractions.” He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand as he looked at you with those annoyingly pretty eyes. “But just to clarify—you’re not a distraction, right?”

Your jaw tightened, and you rolled your eyes. “We’re not here to play games, Bang.”

“Call me Chan,” he said with a wink.

You ignored him and opened your laptop. “Let’s start with last week’s lecture material.”

Despite your initial assumptions, Chan actually seemed... attentive. He took notes, asked questions, and even admitted when he didn’t understand something.

“Wait, so this formula—does it only work for linear functions, or can it apply to quadratic ones too?” he asked, frowning at his notebook.

You blinked. That was actually a decent question. “It’s primarily for linear functions, but there are variations you can use for quadratic ones. Want me to show you?”

“Please.”

As you explained, you couldn’t help but notice how focused he was. His pen tapped lightly against the notebook, and his brow furrowed in concentration. He even nodded along occasionally, muttering things like, “Okay, that makes sense now.”

It was... unexpected.

“So, do you actually want to pass this course, or are you just here because your professor made you?” you asked after a while, unable to hide your curiosity.

Chan looked up, surprised by the question. Then he smiled—this time, it wasn’t the cocky grin you’d seen earlier. It was softer, almost sheepish.

“I mean, yeah. I’ve got a lot on my plate, but I don’t want to fail. Music’s my thing, sure, but I don’t want to let my grades tank either.”

Something about his honesty caught you off guard. Maybe he wasn’t as shallow as you’d assumed.

“Well,” you said, clearing your throat, “if you keep this up, you might actually pass.”

He smirked, the cockiness returning. “Is that a compliment, tutor?”

“Don’t get used to it,” you muttered, trying—and failing—not to smile.

--

The next few sessions followed a similar pattern. You’d meet in the library, Chan would inevitably charm his way through your carefully constructed defenses, and you’d catch yourself noticing more than his academic progress.

It was frustrating.

“Okay, I think I’ve got this,” Chan said one evening, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied grin. “All thanks to my amazing tutor.”

You rolled your eyes, fighting the warmth rising to your cheeks. “Flattery doesn’t get you bonus points.”

“Good thing I’m not doing it for points.”

Your pen paused mid-sentence. His voice had dipped slightly, teasing, but there was something about the way he said it—soft and genuine—that made your chest tighten.

“Focus, Chan,” you muttered, flipping to the next page of notes.

“Right. Focus,” he echoed, but you caught the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

---

The tension reached a boiling point during one particularly late session. The library was practically deserted, save for the two of you tucked away in a quiet corner.

“Okay, last problem,” you said, sliding your notebook toward him. “Solve this, and we’re done for tonight.”

Chan groaned but picked up his pen. You leaned back, watching as his brows furrowed in concentration. He tapped the pen against his lips—a habit you’d noticed—and you quickly averted your gaze, pretending to check your phone.

“How’d I do?” he asked, sliding the notebook back to you.

You scanned his work, nodding slowly. “Not bad. You’re actually starting to get the hang of this.”

“Wow. Another compliment?” he teased, leaning closer. “You’re spoiling me, tutor.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “Don’t get used to it.”

But then, as you reached for your notebook, your fingers brushed against his. It was a brief, almost insignificant touch, but it sent a jolt through you.

You glanced up, and Chan was already looking at you, his eyes searching yours.

The air shifted.

For a moment, it felt like the rest of the world had fallen away, leaving just the two of you in that small, quiet corner of the library.

“You know,” he began softly, his voice barely above a whisper, “you’re a lot more fun to be around than you let on.”

Your heart thudded in your chest. “Chan—”

“Relax,” he said, leaning back with a playful grin. “I’m just messing with you. Unless... you don’t want me to stop.”

You rolled your eyes, but your cheeks betrayed you, burning with heat. “Goodnight, Chan.”

As you packed up your things and left, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something between you had shifted—something you weren’t quite ready to face yet.

---

The shift came unexpectedly a week later, during a particularly bad storm. You’d just finished your last class of the day when your phone buzzed.

Chan: “Library’s closed. Raincheck?”

You sighed, staring out the window at the torrential downpour. Normally, you’d jump at the chance to stay in, but something about the thought of Chan struggling with the material alone bothered you. Before you could overthink it, you replied:

You: “Come to my dorm. Bring your notes.”

Twenty minutes later, there was a knock at your door.

“Hey,” Chan said, slightly breathless. His hair was damp from the rain, droplets clinging to his leather jacket.

“You look like a wet puppy,” you teased, stepping aside to let him in.

“And you’re as welcoming as ever,” he shot back, but there was no malice in his tone—just the easy, teasing warmth you’d come to associate with him.

As the session went on, you noticed Chan seemed... off. He was quieter than usual, his usual playful demeanor replaced by something more subdued.

“You okay?” you asked finally, setting your notebook aside.

He hesitated, then sighed, running a hand through his damp hair. “It’s just... a lot. The band, school, everything. Sometimes it feels like no matter how hard I try, it’s never enough.”

Your heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice. For all his confidence, it was moments like these that reminded you he wasn’t as invincible as he seemed.

“You’re doing fine,” you said softly, surprising yourself with the sincerity in your tone. “You just need to give yourself some credit.”

Chan looked up, his eyes meeting yours. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the unspoken tension between you thickening.

“Thanks,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You don’t have to thank me,” you said, your voice softer than you intended. “You’re doing the work. I’m just here to guide you.”

Chan gave you a small smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Still... It’s nice to hear. Sometimes, it feels like everyone only sees what they want to see, you know?”

You nodded, understanding more than you cared to admit. “Yeah. People look at me and think, ‘nerdy girl who has her life together.’ But they don’t see the rest—the doubts, the late nights wondering if I’m good enough, or if I’ll ever be more than just... this.”

Chan tilted his head, his eyes scanning your face. “Why would you think that? You’re... incredible. Smart, focused, driven—”

“Boring,” you interrupted with a bitter laugh.

“No.” His tone was firm, and the intensity in his gaze made your breath catch. “You’re anything but boring.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, pressing against your chest.

You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Instead, you looked away, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of your notebook. “You don’t mean that. You’re just saying it because... well, that’s what guys like you do.”

“Guys like me?” Chan repeated, his voice laced with curiosity.

“You know.” You waved a hand vaguely. “The popular, charismatic type. Always knowing exactly what to say to get what you want.”

His expression softened, and he leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “You’ve got me all wrong.”

You glanced at him, skepticism evident in your eyes. “Do I?”

“Yeah,” he said simply. “You think I have it all figured out, but most days, I’m just trying to keep my head above water. And if I seem like I know what to say, it’s only because I’ve spent my whole life trying to make people happy. It’s exhausting.”

His honesty caught you off guard, and for the first time, you saw him—really saw him—as more than just the confident, untouchable guy everyone adored.

“I didn’t know you felt that way,” you admitted quietly.

“Not many people do.” He smiled faintly. “But I feel like... I can be real with you. Like I don’t have to put on a show.”

Something shifted in your chest, a warmth spreading through you that you hadn’t expected.

“Same,” you murmured. “I don’t know why, but... you make me feel like I can let my guard down, too. It’s scary.”

“Why?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Because... I’ve spent so long convincing myself that people like you and me don’t mix.”

Chan reached out then, his hand covering yours. The gesture was gentle, tentative, as if he was giving you the chance to pull away. But you didn’t.

“Maybe we’re not so different,” he said softly. “And maybe that’s not such a bad thing.”

You looked at him, your breath hitching as his thumb brushed against the back of your hand.

“Chan—”

Before you could finish, he leaned in, his face inches from yours. His eyes searched yours, asking a silent question.

When you didn’t pull away, he closed the distance, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was hesitant at first—testing the waters—but quickly deepened as you responded.

Your hands moved almost instinctively, one tangling in his damp hair while the other rested against his chest. His heart was racing, beating in time with yours as the kiss grew hungrier.

Chan pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours. “Is this okay?” he whispered, his breath warm against your lips.

“Yes,” you murmured, your voice trembling with the intensity of the moment.

That was all the encouragement he needed. His lips found yours again, more urgent this time, and you felt yourself melting into him.

The books and papers scattered across the table were long forgotten as he pulled you closer, his hands resting on your waist, anchoring you to him.

The storm outside raged on, but inside, everything felt still—like the world had narrowed down to just the two of you.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured against your lips, his voice raw with emotion.

Your heart swelled at his words, and you found yourself smiling despite the heat of the moment. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

Chan chuckled, the sound vibrating against your skin as he pressed kisses along your jawline, trailing down to the sensitive spot just below your ear, a shiver ran through you, and you tightened your grip on him, pulling him impossibly closer, for the first time, you let yourself stop overthinking. You stopped doubting his intentions, stopped worrying about what this meant. In that moment, it was just you and him, tangled together in a whirlwind of affection and desire, and it felt... right.

The intensity between you grew, as the room seemed to shrink, leaving just the two of you in your shared bubble. Chan's hands trailed gently along your waist, his touch firm but careful, like he was afraid you might dissapear if he pressed too hard.

"Wait," you murmured suddenly, pulling back slightly.

Chan froze immediately, his hands dropping to his sides, his breathing was ragged, his lips slightly swollen from the kiss. "What's wrong?" He asked softly, concern flickering in his eyes.

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. "I just... i need to know this isn't just a game for you."

He blinked, clearly caught off guard by your question. "What? No. It's not a game. Why would you think that?"

You shrugged, avoiding his gaze. "Because guys like you—"

"Stop saying that," he interupted, his tone gentle but firm, he gently cupping your cheek, his thumb brushed lightly in your cheek "I'm not some stereotype, neither are you. I know i've got reputation but that's not who i am—not when im with you."

His words hung in the air, heavy with sincerity. Slowly, you looked up, meeting his gaze. There was no hint of the cocky playfulness that he usually do. Instead, his eyes were full of something deeper, Something real.

"I like you," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Not just for this. For everything. The way you so passionate about what you do, the way you don't take anyone's crap, the way you challenge me to better."

Your chest tightened at his confession, a warmth spreading through you that felt both terrifying and exhilarating.

"I like you, too," you admitted, the words tumbling out before you could stop them, seeing him in that vulnerable state make your heart weak.

Chan's lips curved into a soft smile. "Good. Then let me prove it to you."

Before you could even respond, he kissed you again—this time slower, more deliberate. It wasn't just about the heat or the tension, it was about connection, it was about trust.

As the kiss deepened, you found yourself letting go of every lingering doubt. Your hands moved to his shoulders, pulling him closer, and he responded by wraping his arms securely around your waist.

The storm outside seemed to mirror the intensity between you, thunder rumbling in the distance as the rain pounded against the window.

Chan's hands slip up your sides, his touch leaving a trail of heat in it's wake. His lips moved from yours to your neck, pressing soft, open mouthed kisses along your skin, sucking the skin under your colarbone untill it turn purple, marking you as his.

"Chan," you breathed, your voice barely audible above the sound of your own heartbeat. he reached for the hem of your sweater, his hands firm as he yanked it off with sudden force, sending it flying across the room. The fabric brushed your skin before it landed, discarded in the corner.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark with desire but still full of that same tenderness "Tell me if it's too much," he said, his voice husky but laced with care.

"It's not," you assured him, your fingers tangling in his hair. "Its perfect."

The words seems to spur him on, and he captured your lips again, his kisses grow hungry.

Before you knew it, you were pressed against the edge of the desk, the paper and books scattered around the desk now laying on the floor. He trail kisses from your neck down to your clothed breasts, his fingers brushing against the plush skin, squeezing your tits with his big hands.

Your breath hitched at the contact, and he paused, his gaze meeting yours. "Is this okay?" He asked again, his voice steady despite the beat between you.

"Yes," you whispered, your cheek flushing.

He continue to assault your tits, yanking the bra off to suck on your right nipple, making you let out a loud moan from the feeling of his warm tongue swirling around your perked nipple, he let go of your right nipple to lick and play with your other nipple, giving it the same service, making you squeze his shoulder from the sensation.

His hand trail your curve and gripping your waist, he let go of your nipple with a pop, he smilled—a soft, almost shy smile that made your heart flutter— he leaned in to kiss you again.

His hands were still on your waist, his grip firm as he guided you to stand, before you could react, he was lifting you effortlesly, the next thing you knew, you were perched on the edge of the desk the cool surface hitting the back of your thigh sending a shiver down your spine.

He stepped closer, his breath hot against your ear as his hands brushed the side of your body, pulling you in with a controlled intensity. His fingers traced the curve of your hips, lips still attached to yours— his tongue slipped in to your mouth—guiding you closer until you were flush against him, the proximity sending a wave of heat through you.

He pulled back slightly from the kiss, "Look at me," he murmured, his voice low and commanding but tinged with something softer, something you couldn't quite place. You met his gaze, your breath hitching as he leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. "Spread your leg for me baby."

Chan’s eyes flickered with something dark and unreadable as he waited, giving you a moment to decide. The tension in the air was almost unbearable, and the quiet hum of the room felt louder than anything.

You could feel the heat between you two growing, the closeness undeniable as his fingers lightly traced the inside of your thighs, his touch a contrast to the urgency in his eyes. Slowly, you shifted, obeying the unspoken command, spreading your legs just enough for him to move closer.

He leaned in, his breath fanning over your lips, but he didn’t kiss you right away. Instead, his hand found its way to your jaw, tilting your face up to meet his, searching your eyes for something—permission, reassurance, understanding. His thumb brushed over your lower lip, his gaze softening for a brief moment.

“You’re sure?” His voice was barely a whisper, the weight of his question settling between you, the intensity in his eyes matching the tension in your body. His hand was still on your thigh, but there was something so much deeper in his touch, as if he was waiting for you to guide him, to tell him you were ready.

You nodded, your voice caught in your throat. You didn’t need words anymore. The pull between you two was magnetic, and you knew that despite the hesitation in your chest, there was no turning back.

He smiled softly, his lips brushing against yours for a brief moment, the kiss slow, tender, before his lips parted from yours, trailing down to your neck. His breath was warm against your skin, sending shivers through you. As his hands slid further up your body, his movements were deliberate, almost teasing, drawing out the anticipation.

He move his hand to cupped your aching core, "So wet already, hm? So eager aren't we?" Your heart pounded louder now, the room seeming to close in around you. Every touch, every breath felt amplified as you finally let yourself sink into the moment, unable to resist the pull of everything that had been building between you.

He paused again, his gaze meeting yours, that soft, unspoken understanding passing between you two. And then, as if to confirm the depth of what was happening, he murmured, “I’ve wanted this... wanted you... for so long, you have no idea what you've done to me" he said with a hoarsh groan falling from his lips, while his hand still drawing small sircle around your bundle of nerve making you squirm and moaning mess for him.

"Mmh chan, please." You were not even sure what you were begging for, but you just need him to ruin you into a complete mess with his touch.

He chuckled, low and deep, a sound that sent shivers down your spine making the wet spot on your panties even more visible.

Chan didn't stop swirling your clit watching you squirming under his touch, chasing your pleasure like a cat in a heat.

"Sshh sshh, patient kitten, patient." He said, stopping his finger movement on you, leaving you whining in the lost of contact. But not too long after, Chan lowered his height, pushing your knees to spread your leg even wider for him, displaying your damp panties.

You moan to the sight, him kneeling between your leg, spreading you open like that was never on your bingo card. Chan look up to you, drawing a small sircle on your inner thigh, asking for your consent once again, you nodded eagerly, you already so wet it literally drenched. "Please, Chan" you whine, feeling so desperate for his touch.

He chuckled, seeing you so desperate like this is so cute but also turning him on, Chan hook his finger to move your drenched panties to the side, displaying your glistening pussy clenching around nothing. He mutter "Fuck—" from the sight, "You're leaking baby, holy shit" your pussy is so wet—drench even— he bet he could slide right in right then and there, but he didn't want to rush, he wants to take this moment slowly, savoring every inch of your body, worshiping it, he wants to make love to you.

He began to run his finger up and down your slit, teasing the clit with his thumb, brushing it slowly making squelching noise from how wet you were. "You hear that baby?" He said, looking up to watch your fucked out expression, lips swollen from how much you bite it to muffle your sound, eyes looking down at him, you look so pretty like this—he thought.

Seeing you enjoying his action, Bang Chan started to get bold, he lick a fat stripe along your fold making you let out the most pornographic sound that you don't even know you could. "Ahhh Chanh fuck" eyes rolling back to the back of your head, the feeling of his warm tongue on your pussy is top notch, you never feel this good before. He continue his action, licking your cunt skillfully leaving you breathy and a moaning mess, hand fall to his head, gripping his hair for the overwhelming pleasure, that sent a shiver down his spine, the sound that u made is enough to make him rock hard and trying so hard not to bust in his pants.

"Fuck baby, keep moaning my name like that mmhh you taste so sweet" he said while giving your clit a kitten lick, making you feel a knot bubbling in your lower belly, a strange feeling that you've never experience before.

Your moan getting louder in each flick of his tongue, Chan knew that you were so close, he try to elevate the pleasure, he insert 2 finger into your hole, making you scream and tug his hair harder, the painfull stings on his scalp sending a rush right in to his throbing cock making him moan onto your pussy, the humm create a buzz who made you clench on his digit, making the knot inside your belly tighten, you are so close.

"Chanh i–i nghh fuck" the words die in your throat, he chuckle, quicken his finger pace, pumping his finger into you faster, curling it in the right spot where you can see the star.

"Cum princess, let go, cum on my mouth like a good girl you are" he keep hitting that certain spot with an unbelievably quick pace, making you break and cum on his mouth, your orgasm washes over like a tsunami, leaving you breathless from the intense orgasm you just had.

Chan sit up from his position, licking his lips clean, your wetness spreading all over his chin, the sight is blissful making you blush so hard, heat rushing up to your cheeks seeing him covered in your cum.

His smirk grew wider as he leaned in, his fingers sliding down to your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. “You’re blushing, darling,” he teased, his voice low and smooth, dripping with mischief. “Did I make you shy, or was it the way you screamed my name?”

Your breath caught in your throat, his words sending a wave of heat rushing through your entire body. You tried to look away, but he caught you, gently pressing his forehead to yours. His scent enveloped you—warm, intoxicating, and entirely him.

“Don’t hide from me now,” he whispered, his nose brushing against yours. “I want to see every bit of you like this. All messy, all mine.”

His lips found the corner of your mouth, pressing a feather-light kiss that sent sparks racing through you. Then another kiss, softer, right below your jaw. Each touch was deliberate, leaving you breathless and clinging to his shoulders for balance.

“Chan,” you finally managed to whisper, your voice shaky but laced with yearning.

He hummed against your skin, pulling back just enough to lock eyes with you, "Say it again," he murmured, his thumb tracing your lower lip. His gaze was dark, filled with something unspoken yet undeniable.

Your lips parted, and before you could even utter another word, his mouth was on yours— hungry, claiming, leaving no room for hesitation. His hand reaching to the waistband of your panties, sliding it down to your ankle, leaving you bare for him, the cold air hitting your core sent a shiver all over your body, making you gasp from the contact. His hands sliding back to your waist, pulling you flush against him, grinding his rock hard cock on your bare pussy.

The contact drew a chorus of moans from both of you, the raw pleasure sparking between your bodies like fire. “You feel that, baby?” Chan groaned, his voice thick and ragged, hips grinding against you with deliberate force. “Fuck… look what you do to me.”

His lips parted, his breath shallow and uneven as he took in the sight of you beneath him, flushed and needy. It was enough to snap the last thread of his patience. Without wasting another second, his hands moved with purpose, fingers fumbling slightly as he unbuckled his belt. The sharp clink echoed in the heated air, sending a thrill down your spine.

His gaze never left you, dark and full of promise, as he freed himself, his cock springing to life in his hand. “I can’t wait any longer, can i baby?” he murmured, the desperation in his tone making your heart race but the way he still asking for your consent is making you melt, you nod eagerly, muttering a soft "Please," that makes Chan groaning in return.

Your breath hitched as his hand returned to your waist, steadying you as the tip of his cock brushed against your entrance. The sensation sent a jolt of electricity through you, and your fingers instinctively gripped his shoulders, holding on for dear life.

“Relax, baby,” Chan murmured, his voice softer now but no less commanding. “I’ve got you.”

Slowly, he pushed forward, the stretch making you gasp, your body adjusting to the delicious intrusion. His low groan vibrated against your skin as he buried himself inside you inch by inch, his head falling to the crook of your neck.

“You feel so perfect,” he whispered, his voice shaking with restraint. “So tight… so warm… just for me.”

Your nails dug into his back, your mind hazy with pleasure as he finally stilled, letting you catch your breath. He pressed a tender kiss to your shoulder, his hands stroking your sides soothingly, grounding you in the moment.

“Tell me how you feel,” he urged, his lips brushing against your ear.

You couldn’t find the words, overwhelmed by the fullness and the way your bodies seemed to meld together. Instead, you let out a shaky moan, tilting your hips slightly in response. That was all the encouragement he needed.

Chan began to move, pulling out almost completely before thrusting back in, slow and deep. The sensation was maddening, each roll of his hips perfectly measured to drive you wild. He set a pace that was both tender and commanding, as though he wanted to savor every second while still unraveling you completely.

“Look at me,” he said, his voice rough but filled with affection. You opened your eyes, meeting his intense gaze. The way he looked at you—with unbridled desire and something much deeper—made your heart skip a beat.

“You’re mine,” he murmured, punctuating his words with a deep thrust that left you gasping. "And i'm going to show you exactly what that means."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, the possessiveness in his tone making your core tighten around him. Chan groaned at the feeling, his control slipping as he snapped his hips harder, pulling a cry from your lips.

“That’s it,” he rasped, his hands gripping your hips as if anchoring himself. “You’re taking me so well, baby. So good for me.”

Each thrust seemed to claim you further, his movements growing more desperate as your moans filled the room. The sound of your bodies meeting was intoxicating, mixing with the broken gasps and groans that spilled freely from both of you.

“Chan, please,” you whimpered, your body trembling under his relentless rhythm.

“Please what, baby?” he teased, though his voice was strained, his forehead damp with sweat. He slowed his pace just enough to drive you insane, his cock dragging against your most sensitive spots with every deliberate stroke.

“Faster,” you pleaded, your nails digging into his arms. “Don’t stop.”

His smirk returned, though it was softer now, his lips brushing against yours in a fleeting kiss. “Anything for you,” he murmured.

With that, he adjusted his grip, pulling your legs higher around his waist as he slammed into you, deeper and harder than before. The angle was devastating, and you cried out, your body arching into him as pleasure coiled tight in your stomach.

“That’s my girl,” he groaned, his voice rough and full of pride. “I can feel you, baby. You’re so close, aren’t you?”

You nodded frantically, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer. His lips brushed your ear as he whispered, “You’re gonna take everything I give you, aren’t you? Let me fill you up, baby. Let me make you mine in every way.”

The heat pooling in your stomach surged at his words, the thought pushing you even closer to the edge.

“Yes,” you whimpered, your voice trembling. “I’m yours. Always.”

“That’s right,” he growled, his pace quickening, each thrust hitting deeper. “Gonna fill you up so good. Gonna make sure you feel me for days.” he said, and his palm pressing to the buldge visible on your lower belly, where his cock going in and out.

The tension inside you snapped with his words, a wave of ecstasy crashing over you as your walls clenched around him. You cried out his name, your body trembling as pleasure overwhelmed you.

Chan cursed under his breath, his hips stuttering as your release pulled him over the edge. He buried himself deep with a guttural groan, his warmth spilling into you as he held you close, his grip on your hips unrelenting.

“Fuck,” he panted, his forehead pressing against yours as he caught his breath. “You’re perfect. You were made for me, baby.”

As the intensity of the moment passed, the room fell into a quieter, more peaceful rhythm. Chan pulled out slowly, carefully adjusting you so that you were no longer perched on the desk but supported against him, still breathing heavily. His hands gently cupped your face, his touch tender and reassuring.

“Hey, baby, are you okay?” His voice was soft, the previous urgency replaced by a genuine concern. His eyes searched yours, his gaze warm and comforting.

You nodded, still catching your breath, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I’m okay,” you whispered, your hands gently brushing his chest as you let your head rest against him.

Chan let out a breath of relief, his hand sliding down to your back as he pulled you closer to him, his warmth grounding you. He held you against him, his lips brushing your forehead in a soft kiss.

“You were amazing,” he murmured, his voice thick with affection. “I’ve got you, alright? Just breathe, take your time.”

His hands continued to move gently over your skin, tracing circles along your back and shoulders as if he were trying to erase any tension that might have lingered.

After a few moments, you met his gaze again, your heart still racing but feeling safe and cherished in his arms. “Thank you,” you said softly, your voice trembling just a little. “For being so gentle…”

He smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “Anything for you, baby."

Chan leaned in and kissed you again, slow and tender this time, his lips soft against yours. When he pulled back, he continued to hold you close, his hands never leaving your body.

“You’re perfect," he said, giving your lips a light peck.

The air was still heavy with the aftermath, but now it felt like a calming silence, the love and care in his words washing over you like a warm tide. You stayed close, letting the quiet moments stretch out between you, savoring the feeling of his presence.

[quarterlifekitty]

Promethean

fuckboy!Soap x Shy!Reader x Ghost (college!au) p.2

Uhh warning soap isn’t in this chapter and reader isn’t acting very shy rn lol

Simon managed to drag you, shocked and still on shaky legs, into his surprisingly clean car and across town to a little cafe. The guy with eye bags behind the counter starts making his order as soon as he comes in the door— must be a regular.

At the counter he points to a couple of items in the display case, before prompting you— you stutter out your go-to, and Simon whips out a beat-up debit card before you can think to pull out your wallet.

The largest size of earl grey almost looks normal in his large hand, a plate of pastries in his other mitt. You grab your own drink and follow where he tilts his head in gesture.

When you sit, he pushes the plate towards you. Like he’s dropping a fresh kill at your doorstep—a courting gift. Eat. Be provided for, sensitive doe. You pick up a danish, if only to ease the clench of his fist on the table. He pulls the black surgical mask down to sip his tea in a way that’s almost hilariously delicate given his permanent scowl.

You couldn’t have sat in silence for more than 10 minutes. But it feels like a lot longer.

“Simon. What are we doing here?” You probe quietly. Saying his name when you’ve never actually been introduced to each other feels wrong. Like you’ve stolen a piece of him that he hasn’t given freely.

“He never takes you out,” he grunts. As if that explains anything.

“It’s not… what we have isn’t like that.”

——

Simon chews on your overly diplomatic response for a minute. That’s what it must be, chewing— why else would he grind his teeth together when his tongue is still wet with his favorite soothing beverage?

You’re kind. Kinder than the mutt deserves.

“But you want it to be.” He says it with an almost biblical level of finality. Your pastry making the plate clink against the table as you drop it back down.

“What would you know about what I want?”

“You’re an easy read. S’how y’got yourself in this situation. Soap’s not exactly a rocket scientist when it comes to chattin’ up birds, you’re jus’ an open book.”

Simon shamelessly stares at your lips as they quirk in anger— so unused to vitriol. It’s gorgeous.

“So he’s using me. I know. Is that what this was about? Taking me on a pity date to let me down gently? Or did you just wanna see if you could have a go as well?”

Seeing you like this. It’s something else. He’s seen you mope around so many times, silently begging for crumbs that will never be tossed your way. It’s even harder to pull his gaze from you, now that you’re hissing. He wants to dig his teeth into your heart shoulder and rip out the bruise Johnny left you with.

Soap is his best friend.

“He’s a dickhead. You don’t need him. You’ll find something better.”

Simon has never been what he would call “something better”. Not in any sense. But this might be the first time he’s wanted to be.

“I won’t,” you say with the lower half of your face hidden by the sipping of your drink. As if it’s quenched your fire, and all that leaves you is vapor. “I’m not… the type.”

He gets it. Really, he does. He’s not the type either— or so he’s thought. You’re making him wonder if he’s imagined that about himself— the same way you’ve clearly imagined it about yourself.

“What’s the rest of your day look like?”

“…Nothing set in stone.” The not that it’s any of your fucking business goes unspoken, but is plain to see in the air between you.

“Lemme take you around. On a date. Be mine for today. If y’hate it, I’ll drop you back at yours and the next time you come round, I’ll mind my business and keep the door closed.” Well, that’s the most you’ve ever heard him say in one go. And it begs a question.

“What happens if I like it? You’ll fuck me in a different room of the same frat house?” Your unimpressed look makes him feel ravenous. She-wolf is threatening to turn her eyes from the display. Rejection. Not an option. “Or maybe you’ll ask me to go steady,” you huff under your breath like it’s a bad joke.

“If y’like it, then you’ll stay mine, and y’won’t fuckin’ want for anything. You’re supposed to be worshipped, not begging for scraps at a mutt’s door.”

He really didn’t mean to say it like that. He meant to bite his tongue. He’s trying not to think of how hot it would be if his intensity scared you into pissing yourself. He’s trying not to let himself show through the lines. It’s not working. Any of it.

The venomous bile that spills from behind his teeth reminds him that his eloquence is just one of many reasons why he’s single. Why he should be muzzled instead of kept. He doesn’t know why he’s taking it upon himself to do this. Selfishness, maybe. There’s plenty of better men he could’ve put up to the task, easy. The man who wants to feel blood on the back of his throat makes a terrible savior.

He feels like he can see your pupils dilate. You pick up your danish again and take a bite. You hold it out for him to try. It’s a test. You don’t think someone with eyes like his can handle doing cutesy, saccharine things. Like what couples do. That must be it.

He tries not to think of his teeth going past the flakey flesh of the pastry and sinking into your fingers. When his tongue meets the butter between the layers, he tries not to think of the salt sweet flavor of your sweat and tears. A seed from the blackberry jam gets thoughtlessly crushed between his molars— he hopes the bitterness will suddenly wake him up and he won’t be a beast crying for love at the heart of the world anymore.

It doesn’t.

[hcneymooners]

⋆ rose moon.

mafia leader!sevika x younger!female!reader. men & minors dni.

synopsis: you've always loved sevika, despite the tension between her and your father and their shaky alliance. it was only a matter of time before she loved you back. 

cw: sevi is in the mafia baby!!, age difference, dysfunctional family, older woman/younger woman, power dynamics, slight power imbalance, love confessions, not actually unrequited love, misunderstandings, explicit sexual content, masturbation, exhibitionism, strapping, sex toys, dom/sub undertones, top!sevika, praise kink, degradation kink, dirty talk, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, obsession, you get bratty and sevi isn't having it, protective sevika, oral fixation (implied), forbidden love, resolved sexual tension, seduction (you try lmao), non-sexual intimacy, bathing/washing, face-sitting, you've loved sevi since you were 17 but nothing happens till you're 20, and she doesn't even like you like that till you turn 19, mutual pining, sevi has better control though. notes: i love her so much. it's eating me alive. let me know if you want a pt. ii or if you have a request. love you.

since you were a young girl, you’d known there would be only one love of your life. it didn’t matter how many times you were destined to date or marry; there would be one person who would capture you, body and soul. you had resigned yourself to a life laced with symptoms of unhappiness if you were barred from being with them.

then you met sevika.

you had peeked around your mother’s hips—fourteen and praying for a growth spurt—your curious eyes drinking in the stark lines of your father’s office. sevika had been a brooding figure on the edge of his desk—a storm contained in a silk suit, her gaze weighty, her hands scarred and capable.

she was the most singularly beautiful thing you had ever seen, and you still believed that.

it was a clarifying moment in twofold: on one hand, you understood your family’s accusations of weakness had lost their sting the moment you saw light thread across the silvery skin of her scars. on the other, you realized you were underestimated. you would have sacrificed every ounce of your bloodline, sown salt into the earth of your familial legacy, if it meant you could be beholden to her for eternity.

anyone surprised by the revelation that you loved sevika simply hadn’t been paying attention. it felt as though, since you’d first learned to breathe, you’d been enamored with her.

when you were young, your family found it endearing—your wide-eyed infatuation with one of the most feared women in the city. you trailed after her, quiet but relentless, and she had been patient.

she let you cling to her hand when you were frightened, let you curl into her space when you sought attention. she was firm but fond, tolerant of your tantrums and the transgressions of a spoiled girl who had always been given too much and still wanted more.

despite the risks, sevika had allowed herself to possess a favorite. you used to cry alligator tears when she left for long periods—because you were seventeen and didn’t yet understand it.

once, she gripped your jaw when you’d earned it, twenty and fresh-mouthed, her calloused fingers pressing gently into the soft skin. you couldn’t name the feeling it stirred—something dangerous and deep as she stared you down—but it stayed with you. that moment clarified your vocation.

and so you began to push.

you fought for her—through her—tearing past every shield she raised: her doubts about the gap in your ages, her cruel certainty that you could never endure the life she’d lived, the life your parents kept hidden from you, or the world she was still shaping with her iron grip.

criminal, she’d spat once, the word acid on her tongue, as though it was a slur she couldn’t wash away. but you had only looked at her, calm and unwavering, and reminded her who your father was.

you knew the spores of your affection had spread, had infested her. her eyes would catch on the press of your breasts, how they strained against gowns you tailored to be unforgiving in their intent. she always lit a cigar to occupy her mouth when an admirer stole your attention, restraining herself from speaking out of turn.

“you don’t know what you’re asking for,” she told you once, back when you were still a simpering ingénue.

“i have always been sure of what i want,” you replied, unflinching. she had only chuckled, thumb grazing your chin before leaving you to your slow breath and trembling mouth.

your family would never forgive you for this—choosing her over them. their anger would hang in the air, an unspoken threat, and you would spend your life waiting for the moment someone came to drag you back, to force you into the inheritance you had defiled. they would call sevika a thief, accuse her of stealing you in the dead of night, as if your love for her were something to be taken rather than earned. but you were ready for this. willing to endure it all.

now, as you stepped from your bedroom, you thought of how tonight could not go wrong. it was her birthday, and this would be your greatest declaration of love.

the party would be a lavish celebration of her impressive journey.

you raised a hand to your cheeks, pressing down on the tight skin. the ache was familiar—a result of the constant, relentless smiling as you readied yourself for her arrival all night. you wondered if there would be bruises later, if the skin would turn mottled and rotten. you didn’t care. everything you did was a labor of love.

you felt her enter the house, the air around you seeming to breathe easier.

“[name]?” your mother called, her voice curling up the staircase.

“coming,” you answered, your body trembling with barely contained excitement.

♕𓃮

the party was gilded, extravagant.

you had planned it with trembling hands, pouring over every detail until the edges of your vision blurred and a headache surged, each choice made with the silent hope that sevika might experience happiness, if only for a moment. you had begged your parents for this, wrapped in promises of alliances and strengthened ties, though your intentions had always been singular.

you wore gold for her—another dress clinging to you like a second skin, the fabric shimmering like starlight. a soft veil draped over your hair, your neck adorned with delicate jewelry you’d once been too shy to wear. compliments whispered as you passed—some sincere, others crude—but all of them mingled in the haze of champagne and the soft hum of music. you could barely hear them, your pulse frantic as you searched for sevika within the crowd.

carefully, you began to climb the stairs, seeking a better vantage point.

“there you are, little bird.”

the words made you shiver, then preen. sevika’s voice swallowed you—low, rough, like smoke and gravel. you didn’t need to turn to know she was right behind you, her silhouette tall and imposing, haloed by the faint glow of the party below.

you turned, and your chest practically opened, eager to display your heart—weak, wanting. your mouth parted to offer birthday wishes, but a laugh sounded, sharp and cutting.

“look at her. she might as well have ‘kneel’ written across her forehead.”

“pathetic.”

you smiled through it, cheeks burning, despite your body threatening to collapse in on itself in embarrassment. sevika cast a sharp look that exacted a heavy silence, her mouth twitching with displeasure. without another word, the partygoers dispersed, and you touched your waist briefly to stabilize your body as it swayed in relief. she looked back at you, brow furrowed, studying your face.

pathetic.

that’s what they had called you.

“sweet girl.”

you tried to speak again, but only managed, “one moment. i need to check on the food.”

you weren’t sure where you were headed, but it wasn’t the kitchens. eventually, you found yourself upstairs in the darkened hallway of the east wing, hands braced against the edge of a credenza.

the music drifted faintly below, strings lilting up the staircase like spiteful ghosts. you bit down hard on the inside of your cheek, forcing yourself to swallow the knot in your throat.

“[name].”

as if struck, your body convulsed with shame as you realized sevika had followed you, only to find you like this. you must have looked so naïve, so stupid.

“sevika. i’m—i’m so sorry,” you whispered, not trusting yourself to meet her eyes. “i shouldn’t have left. the cake will be out soon. i just needed a moment.”

her boots crossed the wooden floors, deliberate and steady, until you felt her presence behind you. sevika—imposing and unshakable, as though the weight of the world couldn’t move her. and here you were, twenty years her junior, trembling beneath her gaze like a leaf caught in the breeze.

“turn around.”

you obeyed, as you always did, though your gaze stayed fixed on her chest. she was so close now, the scent of leather and something faintly metallic lingering on her. when you finally dared to glance up, you found her studying you—those dark eyes sharp, too knowing, as if she could see every jagged thought in your head.

“has it been like this all night?”

“sevika,” you said, and it was answer enough.

“that’s not what you usually call me,” she remarked, a slight curve to her mouth.

you flushed and tugged at your sleeves.

“i—well. i don’t think you need more reasons to view me as juvenile.”

sevika rolled her eyes, unimpressed at your jab.

“i don’t view you as juvenile, princess. i’m well aware you’re a woman.” she cast a long look over you after that, her teeth worrying at her bottom lip as her gaze followed the pendant dipping into the rising swell of your breasts. “i don’t misunderstand that.”

“besides,” sevika continued. “i like it.”

you never could argue against pleasing her.

“well, it is your birthday,” you sighed, and she smiled.

“thank you, sweet girl.” she tilted her head. “you’re so good to me.”

you turned away again, pressing your fingers to your cheeks as if to send your blood flowing away with urgency.

“it’s alright if you’re upset. they were cruel to you,” she said.

you laughed softly, the sound hollow, and spun to face her. “they’re right, though, aren’t they? i’m… a silly, pathetic little thing. i thought—” you broke off, embarrassed. “it doesn’t matter.”

“tell me.”

your fingers curled around the edge of the credenza, the words clawing their way up your throat. “i thought maybe… if you saw what i thought of you—what i did for you—”

the words hung heavy, the silence stretching between you like a knife’s edge.

“what did you do?” sevika asked quietly, her voice unreadable. “show me.”

you hesitated, shame prickling beneath your skin.

“it was supposed to be your grand gift,” you said finally. “for tonight.”

“show me,” she repeated.

your heart stumbled, but you nodded, slipping past her and further down the hall. sevika followed, her footsteps a steady beat behind you as you led her to the study. your hands trembled as you unlocked the desk drawer and pulled out the deed.

“i bought it back,” you said softly, holding it out to her. “your family’s ranch. the one you lost when you were a child.”

sevika didn’t take it at first. she just stared at you, her expression unreadable, until you dropped your gaze.

“i know it’s foolish,” you murmured, the words rushing out in a whisper. “but you must know by now that i’ve loved you for my entire life. the world is somewhat right—i am a melancholic creature driven by my whims. a spoiled brat at times, but i could—” your voice caught. “i could be better. i just… i thought maybe if you saw what i thought of you, you’d…”

“decide to love you back?” sevika finished for you, her tone firm but not unkind.

you nodded, eyes stinging. this was horrible. how did people confess their feelings? it was like staring down the barrel of a gun. she still wasn’t speaking, and your ears were beginning to ring. the shot had sounded.

instead, she reached out, calloused fingers tipping your chin up until you were forced to meet her gaze. her expression had softened, though something dangerous lingered, coiled and waiting.

“princess,” she began, and you lifted yourself from her hold.

“it’s alright,” you said, voice weak. “i had to try one final time. we [last name(s)] were never good at admitting defeat.”

“[name].”

it almost sounded like pleading. you put distance between the two of you and hid your shaking fingers in the folds of your dress. the door loomed behind her, and you sidestepped her thick body, desperate to escape.

“it’s fine. i need to prepare your cake. i’ll see you in the ballroom.”

you turned back.

“oh, and happy birthday, sevi.”

♕𓃮

shame pressed hot against your chest.

the bath water was scalding, the steam curling thickly in the air, but it couldn’t quite reach the knot tightening in your throat. you pressed your cheek to your knees, the weight of the evening finally catching up to you. you let yourself drift, welcoming the disassociation. turns out you couldn’t do anything right—not even shield yourself from sevika’s quiet entrance into your bathroom.

she leaned against the counter, her presence steady, and cleared her throat. it took you several moments to notice her, and when you did, you let out an undignified shriek. without thinking, you sat up, instinctively covering yourself. with another shriek, you scrambled for a towel as she calmly turned, propping open the window next to the sink, releasing a thick ring of cigar smoke. she stepped forward, plucking the towel from your hands and pushing you—tenderly—back into the water.

“what the fuck, sevi?”

she laughed, a low, rich sound.

“there you are. i hated that simpering nonsense you were doing earlier.”

“you mean when i confessed my undying love for you, and you told me you didn’t feel the same?”

“no,” she answered, her voice a dark purr. “i mean when you told me you loved me, and then ran like a coward.”

you huffed, turning away, the shame settling deeper.

sevika sat beside you, her metal hand tugging gently at your hair. the other, still cradling her cigar, absently traced the line of your collarbone. she didn’t speak, but you leaned into her, seeking the comfort she offered without words. her scent, a blend of blackberry and whiskey, mingled with the rose-scented bath soap. the only sound was the soft lap of water against the sides of the tub.

still, the quiet was suffocating. you couldn’t suppress the gnawing self-deprecation that had been simmering for months. it rose like a flood, impossible to contain. the weight of it pressed against your chest, the last remnants of your resolve crumbling. when sevika put out her cigar, you took that as your cue.

“i resigned myself to a life of displeasure,” you whispered, your voice barely a breath.

sevika didn’t respond at first. she simply pulled you closer, her fingers tightening just enough to ground you. her lips brushed against the crown of your head, but you could feel the tension building in her body, the way she braced for what was coming. she knew something was about to break.

“i prepared myself to lose you in some way,” you said, the words tasting bitter. “there would be nothing after you. i’d marry as a fail-safe, in case the business needed an alliance. and if things got bad, maybe i’d just—”

the words hung in the air, brittle and sharp in their conjuring, before being shattered by sevika’s breath—a ragged, shuddering inhale. you felt the muscles in her arm tighten, as if she were holding herself together by a thread. when she spoke, her voice was low, raw, and dangerous.

“don’t,” she commanded, her words thick with fury, “ever say that to me again.”

you stared at her, startled by the force of her reaction, and found her face tight, her eyes blazing with something primal. she was holding herself together by the thinnest thread, and you realized that the thought of losing you, of you slipping away, was a wound deeper than anything physical.

her hand came to your face, gripping your jaw with careful strength. sevika’s eyes searched yours, the intensity of her gaze making your chest ache.

“do you think i’d be so cruel?” her voice cracked, as if it pained her just to ask. “that i would let you slip away into nothing?”

the rawness of her voice trembled through you. she wasn’t angry—not really.

“i would burn this whole fucking world down before i let you die, do you hear me?” sevika’s words came out in a low rasp. “i will always find a way to save you. i will protect you, no matter what it costs. even if you hate me for it. you are mine, and i will never let you go.”

you felt her hands tremble as they slid down your arms, as if memorizing every inch of you, ensuring you were still here. still breathing.

“you are so—”

her gaze hardened.

“i asked them,” she said, her voice steady now. “tonight. wanted to do it properly.”

“asked who?”

“your parents. i petitioned them for your hand.”

the words hit like a punch to the gut, and you recoiled, your mind scrambling. “and they said no?”

“mmm.” she nodded.

you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. you pushed back, away from her, but she caught your wrist, holding you steady. your thoughts threatened to fracture.

“listen to me,” she said, her voice calm but firm. “that was a formality. it’s not their permission i need. it’s yours.”

you blinked up at her, your breath caught in your throat. “what are you saying?”

she stepped closer, her voice a low murmur.

“i’m saying you’re not a fool, sweet girl. you were brave tonight, and i’d like you to be mine, if you’ll still have me.”

“of course i still want you. are you dense?” you smiled, a shaky, indulgent smile, before your voice faltered. “but—what about—”

“forget them,” sevika interrupted, her tone sharp now, edged with steel. “i’ll take care of it. i’ll always take care of you.”

her words struck a pulse through you—not because you doubted her, but because you knew she meant them. sevika didn’t make empty threats.

you stared at her, your pulse quickening. “you mean—”

“we’ll go tonight.”

you gaped at her, but she only watched you with a fierce intensity that left no room for doubt. this was real.

“you’d take me with you?” you whispered.

her lips curled faintly, a ghost of a smile.

“of course, i would.”

your hands trembled as you nodded, your voice barely a whisper. “yes.”

sevika’s hand found yours, steady and warm, pulling you closer.

“say it again.”

“yes,” you whispered.

her smile widened, dark and triumphant, as she leaned in, her voice a low rumble against your ear.

“good girl.”

and with that, your heart cracked open, and you lunged for her.

♕𓃮

if you desired her less, perhaps you would’ve been more coquettish, more in control. but nothing could have stopped your hunger.

still, as always, sevika steadied you. without any effort she caught the full weight of your body as you climbed into her arms, your hands like steel around her face. you bit at her mouth until she let you in, mewling as she pulled you into her lap. you shivered naked and wet, her large hands coming to cup your ass firmly as you plundered her mouth.

“steady, princess,” she murmured, pulling back to cup the nape of your neck. “i want this just as much. no need to work for it. i’ll give you want you need.”

“sevi,” you whimpered. “sevi, please.”

“mmm, i know.” sevika dipped her head down, sucking a dark mark into your neck. “i need you to do something for me first though.”

“anything.”

and she knew you meant it.

satisfied, sevika rose and walked you into your room. placing you gently on the bed, she used a hand to force your legs open. for a moment, she stood and watched your pussy glaze with arousal. she then leaned forward, sliding two fingers lightly through your cunt.

“so easy f’me.”

“sevi.”

sevika ducked down, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh before pulling away, her movements fluid as she made her way to the desk. in a series of precise motions, she positioned herself in front of the bed, settling into a wide, deliberate manspread. idly, she slipped off her shirt so that her tits were exposed, large and enticing. your mouth watered, and you felt a new wave of slick leave you.

“you just have to do this one thing, and then i’ll do whatever you want. does that sound good, princess?”

you nodded, desperate to obey her and earn your keep.

“good girl. now, i want to watch you get off.”

you froze.

“wh—what?”

“i want you to touch yourself,” she repeated, raising an eyebrow. “you weren’t this shy when you were, what was it, nineteen? yeah. you told me in great detail how you thought of me when you fucked yourself, how you had to shove a pillow over your mouth to stop yourself from screaming.”

“i was—that was a moment of unsound judgement!”

“yeah. i thought about it every moment after.”

that shut you up.

“so, i want you to show me.”

her voice let you know that it wasn’t an option.

“okay,” you whispered.

you began to shallowly pump a finger inside of your cunt, eyes fluttering as you searched for that spongy dip in your walls that sends your head spinning. your thighs reigned open and sweaty; your cunt was spread wide and so pink. the lips were swollen, and you felt yourself leaking further under sevika’s relentless gaze.

“slower,” she instructed.

it took quite some effort for you to slow down your ministrations, but you needed to be good. you let out a hiccup of pleasure as your knuckles clipped your clit, rosy and full. a throaty moan burst from you as sevika shifted, bringing her head forward to maintain eye contact. your fingers picked up the pace, and your eyes grew heavy as you felt your pleasure begin to crest.

“fuck, fuck, fuck. fuck, sevi. right there, please.”

you realized sevika was still mostly clothed, certainly more than you were, and that deepened the heat in your stomach. you whimpered pathetically as you pressed harder into yourself, adding two more fingers and riding them to abandon. you slumped further into the mattress, rubbing viciously at your clit to add more stimulation.

“please. please. please. please.” this was your form of prayer. “fuuuuck!”

your head snapped back as you led yourself to your first orgasm, a wail rising from somewhere deep in your chest.

“sevika.”

she loomed over you, settling her hands on your hip. her eyes were practically two pools of black, her irises swallowed by her dilated pupils. you reached a hand up to graze along the underside of her bob, and she caught your wrist, kissing right against the fine bones resting underneath your skin.

you softened and made a small noise of contentment. she looked back you.

“turn over.”

you abided.

♕𓃮

despite how much you’d imagined it, nothing to compared to the real feel of sevika fucking you.

you were surprised that she’d chosen penetration first and said as much, but she’d only smirked at you from where she was adjusting her holster.

“don’t worry. i plan to make you finish on my face.”

you couldn’t find it in you to be upset.

now, she had you back in her lap and riding her. your back was slick against her chest, her nipples hard and rigid against your spine. she pulled your hair, drawing your head back and biting down into your throat.

“holy shit,” you moaned.

“i know, sweet girl. no one’s ever given you what you needed before, hmm? doesn’t it feel good?”

“yeah,” you agreed, high and breathy, and she laughed.

you loved it when she laughed.

desperate to cum for the second time, you placed a hand on her thigh and slammed yourself down. lazily, sevika sucked your earlobe into your mouth and drew circles around your clit.

“look at that, princess. you’re leaving a little ring around me. jesus,” she sighed, as if put out, “you’re such a fucking whore.”

you moaned loudly, and she drew away from your clit and began to play with one of your tits instead.

“you know i’m right. that’s why you just tightened around me. you’re nothing but a cock-hungry slut who wants to be filled.”

“by you,” you gasped out.

“yes,” sevika said. with a cry, you were pulled off of the dildo and rearranged beneath her. “by me.”

as if to further prove the point, she brought your legs together and pushed them back until she could mount you.

“fuck, baby. you feel like a dream.”

you clenched. you wanted this to be good for her.

“shit,” she groaned and sped up her thrusts, her hips slapping against your ass.

“sevi, please. please give it to me. i’ve been so good.”

sevika nodded sympathetically, pulling your legs apart so she could put them over her shoulder.

“i know you have.”

you weren’t even hearing her at this point, just bearing down so that you could feel her in your throat. your nails dug into her back, and she hissed at the pain. the ache only pushed her, increasing the force of her thrust until her tits were bouncing with the effort.

“c’mon, princess. are you gonna finish for me? i want you to cum on my cock. paint it for me.” her eyes narrowed, honing in on her prize. “come on.”

with a wordless scream, your body arched upward, your pussy spasming as you squirted all over the bed.

“oh, fuck,” you moaned. “shiiiit, sevi. oh my god.”

“mmm,” was all she said, still intent on delivering on her promise.

your world once again turned on its axis as she picked you up, bringing you to sit on her chest. stupidly, you only stared down at her, and she couldn’t suppress a half smile.

“and i here i thought you were all work and no play,” she teased, dragging you upward until you hovered over her mouth.

“humor me, princess,” she ordered. “settle.”

we'll be happy, you thought.

she opened her mouth, tongue extended, and you fell.

© hcneymooners.