#thank you for tagging me back darling
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ghostoftonantzin · 8 months ago
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The WIP Graveyard Game
@phasmama was kind enough to tag me back on her post
The rules: post snippets from at least on WIP you have abandoned! Mine are going under the cut, because I'm going to post the full five, mostly from 2020-2021 times.
I'm going to tag another 5 people, because I can >:) : @achaosmuppet @theshriekingsisterhood @madelgard (yes I know you moved into the star wars fandom, but still) @starkurt, @indashadows
WIP Title: Laura Branigan Lyric (that's what the word doc is called)
Concept: 1980s AU, focused on Laszlo and Nadja as high powered business people with a sideplot of Nandermo paralleling Guillermo's season 2 arc.
Abandoned because: tbh this one was mostly just one I liked to turn around in my head. It never got past the outlining phase.
Snippet:
His friends frequently describe the joy of conquest to him. Finding a beautiful woman, a model or a music video vixen or both, taking her to the hottest restaurants, introducing her to their friends, showing her the kind of life they lead, on the cutting edge.
It reminds Laszlo of the foxes the hounds chased on hunts on his childhood manor. He imagines the woman as a fox set upon by hounds, torn apart under their small teeth.
But this, this… is like being caught, helpless, in the jaws of a lioness.
(this was the only part that made it past outlining)
WIP Title: tie a ribbon back around it
Concept: Jenna/Shanice, Jenna comes to visit Shanice after she's turned
Abandoned because: it just kind of stayed near the bottom of my WIP list until it fell off, pretty much. Plus I could never get the Jenna POV feeling quite right.
Snippet:
Jenna’s phone said 9:16 p.m., so she figured Shanice would be back from her chemistry night lab pretty soon. She shouldn’t be late, unless she got murdered on that one stretch of the walk from the chemistry building to her new dorm with no lights or police call boxes. Jenna knew it was a good place to get murdered, because Nadja had told her so when Jenna had shown it to her.
One downside to being a vampire was the whole no-reflection thing, which made it hard to check her lipstick in the glass. The lipstick was new, a plum wine red color that the saleslady at Sephora said looked good with her skin tone. Not that she didn’t like the red Nadja had lent her on their first night out! But this was one of those liquid lipsticks that was supposed to stay on through anything.
WIP Title: you've got me living only for the night
Concept: a follow-up to come in from the edge (and let the good times roll), my second-ever fic, the one with Karen (from Collaboration, remember her?) and two of the ladies from Simon's gang. Karen is now living with the Freak Sisters and performing at
Abandoned because: partly because it got struck down so thoroughly by future canon installments, and partly because I fell out of love with the idea.
Snippet:
She sits down in the living room to wait for Mr. Fifties. The Freak Sisters had flown ahead, something about a meeting at the club before the show. They obviously hadn’t needed Karen to know more about it, so she hadn’t asked. She’d felt bad about making Mr. Fifties drive, but Despoina had put another bobby pin in Akeldama’s red wig and patiently explained how he was usually looking for an excuse to bring out his stick shift convertible anyway.
They’ve got her bloodstained bra and underwear framed on the wall, like a sports jersey. It’s a little embarrassing, Karen thinks. She can tell how cheap the lace is now; most of hers costs at least twice that now. She models every pair for them, which is more of a thing for her than for them, but they still clap and leer and pull her in close every time.
The Leatherskins have all always been polite about her, but Mr. Fifties has always been a perfect gentleman. He offers her his arm at the door, though she’s wearing slip on sneakers and not heels. Her heels are usually too high for her to really walk in. The Freak Sisters really like that, especially Despoina.
WIP Title: Vampire King
Concept: a follow-up to such strenuous living, i just don't understand, aka the one where Guillermo is a volunteer at a vampire sanctuary. This was intended to be the follow-up covering the release of the documentary being filmed in the original fic.
The documentary being Vampire King, about the controversies behind Simon the Devious's Sassy Cat Vampire Ranch and Guillermo de la Cruz's campaign to have it shut down.
Abandoned because: other ideas took precedence and I didn't want to learn to code the fake tweets. It also never got past the brainstorming stage.
WIP Title: Die, Cry, Hate
Concept: post-season-2 on the run fic, this time where the vamps go and stay with an old friend of Nandor's, Madame Beausoleil, a creepy French ex-aristocrat vampire with live-laugh-love type taste in decor (hence the title) and a questionable tendency towards hypnotizing her familiars. She decides to repay Nandor's past help by hypnotizing Guillermo to seduce him.
Abandoned because: this was brainstormed in the post-s2 hiatus, and canon continuing past that diminished my interest in the idea. Also never got past the outlining stage.
Snippet (in outline form):
-M.B. is laying boxes out on her coffin, kind of ignoring him
            -coffin looks slightly out of place in the room; large white, carved into deep, intricate panels with elaborate motifs and inlaid heavily with gold and accented with pale pinks and blues
-Guillermo asks her about her relationship to Nandor
            -she’s known him a long time, helped her out a lot in Paris, owes him a lot of favors
-turns to him “You will submit to my dark power.”
-fuck.
-“You will be Nandor’s for the daytime, for him to do with as he pleases.”
-“alright, strip”
-Guillermo starts taking his clothes off, stake falls out of his sleeve, sees MB. watching it fall to the floor, but can’t move to do anything about it
-she’s absolutely going to kill him
-She picks up a stake “I didn’t know Nandor was into gardening. I’d always taken that as more of Laszlo’s hobby”
-naked, looking at her, she gestures towards the boxes
-he goes to look at them, opens the boxes
            -lingerie: red and silk-like, black and strappy, white and lacy, pink and sheer
            -she tells him to pick out the pair he think Nandor would like
-“I had to guess your cup size.” She said, glancing at his chest with a furrowed brow.
-feels like he’s walking on the floor above a great machine, feeling its motion beneath him without comprehending it
            -brain working without him
-picks white and lacy (“always knew Nandor was a big fan of the wedding night look”), slides on underwear, garter, stockings
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kiwiplaetzchen · 5 months ago
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Character Sheet / Student ID
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With the help of some cute Gremlins, I was able to create a Character Sheet / Student ID with different designs for each house for your Hogwarts (Legacy) OC/MC!
Please feel free to use it and share your character(s)! :3 💚💙💛❤️
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ficsforeren · 1 year ago
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I cannot BELIEVE I just saw this but AAAAAAA I'M SO GLAD YOU LIKED IT!!! Seeing these comments you left me made me so happy!!! 😭😭😭
"Man this smut is so good it's got me speaking it poems😭💀💀💀" PLS THE WAY I LAUGHED HAHAHAHA
Shhh, Baby, Daddy's on The Phone
Pairing: Eren Jaeger X Female Reader
Genre: Rockstar AU, Domestic AU, Smut, Fluff
Summary: Your husband, Eren Jaeger, comes home from his band’s tour to the sight of you moaning his name on your bed with a vibrator buried deep inside you. Burned by the desire to ravish you right then, Eren decides to have his way with you, not caring if he’s in the middle of a phone interview with a music journalist.
Warnings: rough and unprotected penetrative sex, having sex while on the phone, reader masturbating while Eren watches, blindfold, daddy kink, cunnilingus, blow job, hand job, having sex while being recorded, squirting, spit kink, overstimulation, cum play, creampie, choking, degradation, spanking (with hands and belt), slapping, dirty talk, heavy swearing
Word Count: 9K
🎉 THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 7000 FOLLOWERS! 🎉 Here's your gift, darlings ❤️❤️❤️
Poster art by the most talented @rainbuniart
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A day. If you had waited for just one more day, you wouldn’t have gotten caught masturbating on the same bed you shared with the man you had loved—and loved you—for seventeen years. But you were lonely, weren’t you? You were impatient. You hadn’t seen your husband, Eren Jaeger—the frontman of the notorious rock band called Empire—for almost a month. You hadn’t touched him, made love to him, tasted the sweet taste of his lips and the exotic rosewood of his perfume on his sun-kissed skin and it became unbearable with each second passing by.
Phone calls weren’t enough. Watching his lips form the line, “I miss you,” and “I love you” through FaceTime wasn’t as satisfying as having them whispered directly into your ear with his smirk grazing against your shell. His words didn’t light your body on fire, not in the way they did on that night before his departure when you spent endless hours gasping his name and hearing him call yours between a string of expletives and filthy words. You missed him. You wanted him. Which was why the second your parents took your two children into their home to have a sleepover party with their cousins, leaving you all alone in the lovely suburban house you had shared with your husband and kids for three years, you decided to… look for some relief.
You didn’t plan on it, of course. Your plan was to finish all your chores to make sure the house was spotless by the time your husband arrived home the next day. But you managed to finish everything before sundown, leaving you wandering along the house, not knowing what else to do. Once you had cleaned yourself in the shower, you were dressed in your silky nightgown, climbing to the middle of the bed with your favorite novel in one hand. 
You only managed to read a chapter when your thoughts flew back to your husband. You checked on your phone. The last text you had gotten from him was this morning, telling you not to forget to eat your breakfast as you tend to skip it. Eren was always attentive like that, sometimes acting more like a wife than you were. The rest of your texts hadn’t been read. Maybe he’s busy? You wondered. He had been dealing with endless interviews, photoshoots, and live performances to promote Empire’s new album after all. It often took him a few hours before he could get back to your calls and messages. He was only in a different town, not overseas, but it felt like he was a thousand miles away from you.
Sighing, you closed your book, unable to concentrate on your reading any longer. You searched for your phone, your thumb sliding across the screen, going through your gallery. There was a video—a sex video—that you once took with Eren during your friends-with-benefits days. That one Sunday morning when the two of you engaged in debauchery while he was still drunk and half-asleep. With your cheeks warming up at the memory, you tapped your finger on the screen and the video played.
“Bounce back,” Eren said, his husky voice sounding a bit deeper, heavy with sleep but also laced with urgency. “Bounce back on my fucking dick, baby, come on.”
You lost count on how many times you had seen this video when he was away. You convinced yourself that it was just a way to cope with the longing, but you couldn’t deny the way your body squirmed, aching to redo everything you did in that video. 
“Harder,” Eren commanded, followed by the sound of his palm meeting your ass cheek. “Fucking take that cock like you own it.”
The video was so pornographic, so raw, and passionate. Eren was a feral beast in bed while you were reduced to nothing more but a whimpering mess. He wasn’t being himself that day, too intoxicated to register the things he did and said to you.
“Wanna make you my bitch,” he rasped. “Wanna make you my cumslut.”
That man in the video almost didn’t feel like him. Eren—the version of Eren that you fell in love with—had always showered you with praises at any time he could. He didn’t do it just to flatter you. He did it because each compliment he gave you was a form of his honesty. He respected you, cared about you, loved you more than the earth loved the sun. That morning was the only time he ever treated you like a whore he rented for the night, and he felt so guilty for treating you that way but you loved it. It was a nice change. He felt dangerous, uncontrolled and it was so exhilarating that a mere thought of it sent your blood boiling.
You squeezed your thighs, heat pooling in your center. You were so aroused at the little grunts and groans your husband was emitting in the video, so titillated at the sight of him taking you from behind and fucking you against the headboard. He had his head thrown back, his lips parted in a breathy moan, “Fuck, so good. You’re so fucking good, baby girl.”
Your eyes, just like many nights before, drifted back to the top drawer of your dresser where you kept your rabbit vibrator hidden safely in a box. It was the one that your best friend Pieck gave you on your birthday; the same one that your husband used plenty of times before, not because he was incapable of satisfying you. Eren was beyond fantastic when it came to handling things in bed but there was something hot, he said, about watching you clench yourself around the toy before he fucked you senselessly. He did it so you’d know just how good his cock was compared to it. And it fed his ego so well when he found you squirting on his cock just after a few thrusts. “Fucked you so good, didn’t I, baby?” He would ask with a smirk, not giving you a chance to breathe until he reached his own high. 
Fuck, okay. You couldn’t hold back the temptation, not when the images of your husband pushing your legs high up in the air as he rammed his hips against yours resurfaced in your head. Taking the sex toy out of the box, you returned to the bed.
You took a glance at the clock. It was only seven pm, still so early to be doing something as sinful as this but you couldn’t help it. Your bedroom door was still open but you didn’t care. You were the only person in the house anyway, and the front door was locked. The only one who carried the spare key was your husband and his flight back home wouldn’t be until tomorrow evening. 
Taking a deep breath, you lifted your nightgown until the fabric pooled around your stomach, your thin spaghetti strap falling off your shoulder as you slid your panties off your legs. You propped a pillow behind your back for comfort, keeping your thighs open wide. You rewound the video, playing it from the beginning. You didn’t have to watch it, as you already memorized the scene from replaying it so many times. You just needed to shut your eyes and your memory would display everything behind your closed lids like a movie projector. 
Holding your vibrator in one hand, already covered with lube, you tucked the end of your dress between your teeth so you could watch yourself sliding the toy inside your entrance. The internal stimulator was able to penetrate you deeply enough to reach your G-spot, and as you switched it on, waves of pleasure coursed through your veins almost right after. Even so, it could never satisfy you the way Eren’s cock did. Your husband was the only one who could stretch you perfectly in the way you liked it.
The smaller arm of the vibrator, flexible enough to bend and move as needed, stimulated your clitoris at the same time you thrust its long shaft inside you. You clicked on the buttons, increasing the intensity, exploring many kinds of vibration modes until you found the right one. You focused on Eren’s moans, the way he was calling your name, the way he snarled out, “No one can fuck you like this but me, you got that?”
You remembered him again, remembered the way your husband held you, the way he kissed and plundered your mouth with his tongue, the way his fingers would curl tightly around your throat to make you choke out his name. You chewed on your bottom lip, pinpointing the vibrations right where you wanted them. You started pumping them fast, remembering the way he slid his cock in and out of you, matching his pace. It might not be as gratifying, but you could feel your thighs quivering in pleasure. 
“Ah,” you moaned, your muscles tensing at your impending orgasm. You were so close. “Eren…”
“Yes, baby?”
Your eyes jolted open in shock, your body freezing at the sight of your husband leaning one shoulder so casually against the doorframe, watching you with a pair of naughty eyes. He was dressed impeccably handsome in formal attire, must be because he just returned from another press conference. His tailored black suit highlighted his broad shoulders perfectly, its color a stark contrast to how bright his viridian eyes were. Eren had both hands stuck inside the pocket of his trousers, a suggestive smirk written on his lips. The matching black tie he wore was hanging loosely around his neck, his crisp white button-down shirt still tucked neatly inside his pants but he had his top buttons unfastened. He was still wearing his Oxford shoes, his expensive coal-black Tag Heuer watch reflecting the dim, golden light of your bedroom.
His hair, as always, was tied up to the back of his skull, designed by a pair of expert hands to make it look stylishly messy. Eren was breathtaking. Even before he was a celebrity, he was already gorgeous. As a college boy, he was boyish and mischievous. Right now, he looked so mature, reeked of charm and sensuality. But as he watched you with his emerald eyes coated by desire, he only seemed devilish to you. 
“Sorry to interrupt,” he crooned, his voice light and airy. “Didn’t think my wife would be so…” His gaze traversed down your body until it stopped right at your center, watching your hole clenching around your vibrator. His tongue peeked out to wet his lip before he returned your gaze to yours. “Occupied.”
You scrambled back, pulling the toy out of you in an instant before you closed your legs in shame. “Eren!” you squeaked out in horror, blood rushing to your face so fast that it left you feeling lightheaded. “Why are you—I thought you were flying back tomorrow!”
“I wanted to surprise you,” your husband chuckled, making his way to your spot while dragging his suitcase behind him. “When you said the kids were staying at your mother’s house for the night, I just couldn’t bear the thought of you being alone.” He stopped near the end of your bed. “I figured my wife would be lonely with me being gone.” He kept his hands inside his pockets as he loomed tall, his knees a few inches away from grazing against the footboard rail. He looked down on you. His gaze was intense. The previous mirth that graced his lips had vanished without a trace. “Seems like I was right.”
You found him glancing at the phone beside you. Your sex video was still playing, the sound of your moans filling the room. You panicked, utterly flustered. “I—this isn’t—”
“Open up.”
“W-what?”
“Your legs.” His voice was an octave lower. “Let me see that dripping cunt.”
You swallowed your breath. You didn’t think the first lines that fled out of your husband’s mouth after weeks of separation would be so obscene. Eren could be the gentlest man in bed if he wanted to, spooning you as he whispered sweet nothings in your ears, your body rocking together as you listened to the pit patter of the rain knocking against your windows. But he knew how much you loved it when he was being rough and dominating, craving for a little pain between waves of pleasure. This, right here, was him giving you a glimpse of what he was planning to do to you in a matter of minutes.
The mischief in his eyes was quickly replaced by impatience when you didn’t comply with his words right away. “I said, open.” He lifted his chin, his gaze condescending. The superiority in his gaze left you weak. “Or do you want to be punished?”
You shuddered. The coils inside your stomach tautened at his words. Eren remembered. He remembered when you told him you wanted to try something new in bed. Something filthier, something more thrilling, just like the way he behaved in the sex video you shared with him. You wanted him to do the opposite of what he usually did. You didn’t want him to be gentle. You didn’t want him to be respectful. There’s a time to make love and there’s a time to fuck like animals. Right now, with this amount of yearning burning inside you—a craving so intense that you couldn’t even wait for one more day to be stuffed with your husband’s cock and instead resorted to a silicone stick—Eren could tell it was the latter that you wanted.
You had spoken about this once on the night before he left the town—how you wanted him to be more merciless in bed—but it was weeks ago. You didn’t think he would remember it. But that’s where you were wrong. Eren didn’t just remember it. He wanted to do it. If this was a way to please you, he would do anything to fulfill even your filthiest dream. He had been thinking about it so much during your days of separation, that sometimes he lost track of conversation during his interview. And now that he was finally home, he was planning to give you just that.
You used to be diffident in bed, especially since you knew how experienced Eren was when it came to sex. But after spending years together, with him constantly praising every curve of your body, your confidence was built. But not tonight. After spending weeks not standing on the receiving end of that lustful stare, you were back to being the timid girl that you were like on the first day he laid his hands on you. 
Slowly, you parted your legs, giving a glimpse of your folds, soaked and glistening with your juice.
“Wider,” he demanded and you fisted the sheets beneath you. You were moving too slow for his liking. Eren reached out a hand, clasping his fingers around your ankle, and yanked you forward until you found your body sliding down the bed. You yelped in surprise, your legs were dangling over the edge when he placed both hands on your thighs, gripping them hard enough to leave bruises. He forced you to spread your legs as much as you can, exposing your twitching hole to his hungry eyes.
“Ren—”
“Look at you,” he simpered, one hand pinning your thigh to the bed while the other one slid up your leg, his fingertips ghosting over your pussy’s lips. “You’re drenched, Sweetheart.” Eren plunged two fingers inside his mouth, coated them with saliva, and brought them back down to glide between your folds. He pushed two digits inside without warning, crooking them up and making your entire body jolt in sensation. He tittered, retracting his fingers only to push them back inside his mouth, his tongue swirling to get a sliver of your taste. He kept his eyes on you as he let out a little mmm around his fingers. He slid them out, his smirk was salacious. “I’ve missed you, baby girl.”
You were on the verge of vocalizing his name when he grabbed the front of your gown, forcing you to sit on the bed before he clasped his fingers around your throat. You were being lifted to your knees, groaning into his mouth as he burned you with his kiss. His tongue pushed past your lips, moving in a maddening dance against yours that left you squirming. His grip around your neck was tight, suffocating you with his hand and his kiss at the same time.
When he released you, his face hovered above yours, letting you taste the scent of peppermint in his breath. “You should be glad that you’re smart enough to fuck yourself at the sounds of me fucking this little cunt,” he emphasized by plunging his fingers harshly between your folds. “If I had caught you watching someone else’s video, you know I wouldn’t be so forgiving.”
“I-I wouldn’t—” He tightened his grip, ending your sentence abruptly in a choke.
“Speak only when I tell you to,” he growled. “You’re my fucking bitch for the night. Behave.”
Thrill suffused your body like a shot of adrenaline. You melted in his hold, your lips parted in a strangled whimper. 
Eren kissed you once, softly, languidly, but when he dragged his lips to your ear, his voice was perilous. “Want me to fuck you, baby?”
“P-please,” you answered, begging at his mercy.
He purred, his smirk was pressing against the skin below your earlobe. “Where do you want me?”
You swallowed thickly. “I want you inside me, Daddy.”
He chuckled, pleased at the title you gave him. Removing his hand from your throat, he squeezed your jaws until you felt his nails digging into your skin. His lips were only a breath away when he whispered, “Pathetic little slut.”
He ripped your thin nightgown with both hands, shredding everything in one try. He tossed you back to the bed so carelessly that your nude body bounced once before you settled on the sheets. He removed his blazer, his gaze never left yours, only getting heavier by the second. The white shirt he was wearing was plastered to his sculpted chest. Eren was still as sturdy as he was five years ago, his muscles were drawn by the angels themselves. “Go on,” he said as he rolled each of his sleeves up to his elbow. “Put that toy back inside. You didn’t get to finish before, did you?”
You wanted him to touch you so badly that you wanted to go on your knees and beg him for it. Even without using your words, Eren could see it. “Let me know when you’re about to cum.” For once, he let his heavenly smile return. “I want you to squirt on my face.”
Your breathing ragged. “Yes, Daddy.” You reached for your vibrator again, feeling your heart beating so fast at the way your husband was watching you closely. When you were about to push it inside, he stopped you. 
“Don’t you think it’s a bit dry?” One corner of his mouth was raised higher than the other, gazing down at you so pompously. “You should do something about it, Sweetheart. Don’t want my little whore to hurt herself. That’s my job.” 
You knew he wasn’t referring to the bottle of lube on your nightstand. He wanted you to give him a show. Breathing heavily, you pushed the vibrator inside your mouth. You could taste yourself on the silicone, feeling absolutely humiliated that you had to suck a plastic cock in front of your husband with your legs spread open. Eren leaned forward, landing a palm on the sheets as he drew the sex toy away from your hand. “Here, let me help you.” He jammed it back in, choking you and fucking your mouth with the toy until you felt tears brimming in your eyes. You gagged in reflex, your fingers clutching around his wrist to stop him. “Don’t choke. Hold it in,” he chuckled, easily dismissing your feeble attempt. “You can do it, baby. You know mine is twice as big.” He repeated his actions several times. By the time he pulled it away, you were coughing. 
“Think of it as a warm-up,” he said as he pushed the vibrator inside you up to the hilt, not caring if your body was still tense to have a foreign object slide past your ring. “Before I wreck you apart with my cock later.”
He switched on the button, eyes gleaming in amusement at the way you were squirming at the sensation. “Keep your voice down.” He clamped his mouth around your nipple as he pumped it fast inside you. “I’m not gonna let you cry over a fucking toy.”
Despite his warning, you couldn’t hold back your whimper. The sensation was too much. He was pushing it too deep, too hard, too fast, sucking and biting on your sensitive bud all the while. “Ah! Ren—mmph!” He slapped a palm over your mouth, removing his mouth from your chest to hover his face above yours. 
“Too much, baby?” He asked almost melodiously. “Here, let me tone it down.”
Eren clicked on the buttons, putting the level of intensity to the maximum. You jerked forward, arching your back, your legs shaking from the vigorous vibration that ran up your skin. He took in your features, enjoying every bit of your expression as you turned into a sobbing mess. “Tell me when you’re about to cum,” he reminded you, his wrist moving back and forth. “Wanna drink all that fucking juice, baby.” He dipped his head in the crook of your neck, his fangs teasing your supple skin. “Come on, give it to me. Give it to Daddy.”
His words worked like magic and with a few more thrusts, you clutched your fingers on his shoulders, fisting his shirt. “I’m—I’m about to cum—”
Eren slid out the toy and flung it away without a care. Before you could whimper at the loss, he hooked his arms around your thighs and dove between your legs. He darted out his tongue, eating you out in the way that left you gasping and tugging on his hair. “Fuck, Daddy—” The word slipped out your mouth as your legs closed around his head. 
Eren growled, pinning your thighs back to the sheets as he lapped up and down your folds. You could feel the tip of his nose grazing against your clitoris every time and when you mewled, he finally closed his lips around it, sucking hard on the nub. That was the final push you needed to reach your ecstasy. You were squirting on his face, a sprinkle of your juice stained his cheeks before Eren took the rest inside his mouth. “Finally,” he breathed out, panting as he continuously lapped at your cunt like a starving man. “Been waiting for weeks to taste you again, baby. Mmm,” he moaned, his tongue dipping inside your entrance to clean every last drop. “So fucking sweet, I want to eat you up all night.”
You were dizzy, breathless, and spent but Eren was far from done. He unfastened his tie with one hand, letting it hang loose on his collar. “On your knees,” he commanded but you were too weak to comply right away. “What, you’re tired?”
He permitted you to speak. “Give…” You swallowed, your throat felt parched. “Give me five minutes… M-my legs are shaking—”
Eren bent himself down, grabbing you by your jaws again. “I don’t care if your legs are shaking,” he said through gritted teeth with barely an inch of space between your faces. “I’m not finished.”
He brought you up, forcing you to sit on your heels as he stood on his knees before you. “Look at me.” You tilted up your chin at his command, hooded eyes meeting his lustful ones. A proud smirk painted his face as he observed your features. “Such a pretty little bitch,” he simpered, his lean fingers stroking your cheek. “Whimpering like one too.” Eren shoved his thumb inside your mouth as his other fingers were glued against the underside of your jaw. He forces your mouth open, pressing his pad against your papillae. “I’m gonna fill you up tonight, baby girl. In every way possible.” 
You closed your lips around his thumb before you sucked on it, treating it like his cock. His eyes glazed with desire when he pulled his hand and slapped you across the face.
Fuck, it burns, you thought, as the stinging pain his palm left on your skin spread across your cheek. But this was what you wanted, wasn’t it? You had asked him—no, challenged him to do this. “I don’t think you’ll ever have the heart to slap me,” you remembered the words you’d once said to him. “You can be rough in bed, sure, but you’re always so… vanilla. I want you to treat me like you did to me that morning, Ren. Calling me your cumslut, treating me like one. It was exciting. I think it would be a nice change if we—”
“You seem distracted.” Eren slapped you again, ending your thoughts short. It wasn’t hard enough to leave his handprint on your skin, but the pain was searing nonetheless. “Don’t you want this, baby?” His fingers returned to grasp your throat, lifting you up. “Don’t you want me to treat you like a fucking whore?”
“Y-yes,” you choked out. His grip was so tight that your nerves were screaming in agony. “Yes, Daddy.”
“And what do you say?”
“Thank you, Daddy.”
“Good. Now, show me.” He unwound his hair tie, letting his silky smooth chestnut hair cascade down to his shoulder. He reached behind you, using the elastic band to tie up your strands in a messy ponytail. “I want to see how grateful you are.”
You nodded. Your fingers, albeit a bit shaky, toyed with the button of his slacks, tugging down his zipper. You lowered his trousers just enough to free him out of his briefs, taking his cock with both hands and stroking it to life. You started by kissing him on his tip, letting him know the softness of your lips before your tongue came to play. 
“Eyes over here,” Eren reminded you, and you looked up from underneath your eyelashes. The sight of you acting so docile sent his blood running south. “Dart out your tongue.” You obeyed, giving him small licks on his slit as you used one hand to pump his dick. He snorted, immensely pleased at how submissive you were. “Naughty kitten. Gonna milk my cock dry after this?”
You dragged your lips to the side, tracing the veins on his shaft with your tongue. “Yes, Daddy.”
“If you waste a drop, I’m gonna punish you.”
“Y-yes, Daddy.”
“Good. Now open up. I’m gonna fuck your face.” When you weren’t moving fast enough, Eren pulled your head back by your ponytail. Your mouth slightly opened in a gasp and he used the chance to slap his cock against your lips. “Wider.” You complied. Eren didn’t waste a second. He drove his length entirely inside your cavern in one try, hitting the back of your throat. Your lids closed in reflex, your mewls muffled by his skin. “Keep your fucking eyes on me.” Your red, glistening eyes shot open to meet him as you struggled to breathe. His disparaging smile made him look wicked. “You look the best when you have my dick in your mouth, Sweetheart. Come on, take me deeper.” 
He closed whatever space that was left, keeping your nose pressed against his pelvis, and blocking your airways for about three seconds before he released you. You coughed, gasping for air, choking on your own spit. A little longer than that and you would’ve gagged.
“You remember our safe word, baby?” He held you by the chin, forcing you to meet his gaze as he spoke. You nodded, tasting the saltiness of the tears that glid down to your lips. “Good. I want you to keep that in mind. I won’t slow down. You want me to be rough on you and I’m here to give it to you. I’ll fuck you until you can’t walk. You have my words on that, but…” he paused, swatting the bangs out of your eyes. He broke the tension for a moment. His touch was gentle, reminding you that it was still your husband underneath this vicious persona. That this was just a performance—a role that you asked him to play. There was a genuine worry in his voice when he said, “If it gets too much, say the word and I’ll stop immediately.”
“I’m okay,” you promised him with a smile. Eren was terrifying before, but that was part of the game, part of the excitement. You kissed the hand that caressed your face, your lips brushing against his palm. “I’m all right, Ren. You can do whatever you want with me. I’m enjoying this,” you purred, leaning into his touch like how a small kitten would. “Truly.” 
He hesitated for only a couple of seconds before his smirk returned. And that was it. He wouldn’t ask for it again. You wanted him to drive you to your limit? So be it.
His palm smacked against your cheek, throwing your face to the side. “Then get back to work.”
Still a bit dazed, you tried your best to please him with your tongue, hollowing your cheeks around him and pulling away with an obscene pop. Eren was about to thrust inside your mouth when suddenly his phone rang. The ringtone echoed from the inside chest pocket of his blazer, growing persistently with every second passing by. He reached over to his side with a sigh, snatching his phone. The name Levi Ackerman was written on his screen. 
Your husband clicked his tongue in vexation. He knew for certain that his strict, foul-mouthed manager would constantly call him until he picked it up. Your curiosity almost turned into words but you stopped yourself at the last second, not wanting to upset him by talking without permission. You stroked his length with your hand, hoping he’d notice the question in your eyes. Who is it?
Your nervous look granted him an idea. Wanting to tease you a little bit further, he pushed your head down to take his cock back inside your mouth. He slid his thumb across the screen, answering the call. “Hey, Levi,” he addressed, pressing his phone against his ear. 
You pulled away with a gasp, perplexed at the way your husband so casually greeted his manager—who was also a friend of yours—over the phone. “Ere—” The second you parted your lips, he used the opportunity to ram his cock back inside.
“Shhh, baby, I’m on the phone,” he said, his lopsided grin almost as lewd as the way he rocked his hips. He was enjoying it, loving the way you could do nothing but loosen your jaw and let him fuck your mouth until he was satisfied. He returned to his phone, putting it on speaker so you could listen to the conversation. “What’s up?”
“Am I interrupting something?” Levi’s voice rang from the other line, sounding as formal and cold as ever. 
“No, it’s okay. I was talking to Jace.” Eren pushed your hair back, gripping tightly onto your bangs as he picked up his pace, reaching a little deeper with every thrust. “We’re just…” He let out a breath. He could feel how fucking warm and wet your mouth was. A little bit of mirth stood evidently in his voice when he continued, “Playing a little game.” Your husband reached back to seize your ponytail, tugging tightly on your strands. “Watch your teeth,” he uttered sotto voce, his stare degrading.
“I swear to fucking God, Jaeger, if you’re fucking your wife right now, I’m gonna chop off your tiny fucking dick.”
“I swear, I’m not.” Well, not exactly in the way you’re thinking anyway, he sneered inwardly. “Also, leave my dick alone. I’ve got a wife to please. I don’t wanna make her cry, you know.” He hit the back of your throat, continuously shoving your head down, and maintained that position until you felt suffocated. “Though she does look pretty when she cries.” He knew how harsh he was being, judging by the tears that coated your eyes but he didn’t plan on stopping. He moved his phone away, whispering, “Take it,” as he kept one hand behind your skull, his hips rutting against your mouth. “Take my fucking dick. Ah, fuck, yeah, just like that—you fucking whore—”
“Jaeger!”
Drowning deep in pleasure, he could faintly hear Levi calling his name. He returned to his phone. “Sorry,” he answered breathlessly. “What were you saying?” 
“What the fuck are you doing? If you get distracted one more time, I’m gonna—”
“Jesus Christ, enough with the threat already. What’s up?”
The older man sighed, too weary to put on a fight. “I’m calling to let you know that we have someone from Kerrang Magazine looking for you.” Judging from his tone, impatient but not yet aggravated, he was oblivious to what was happening.
Eren released you, thick strings of saliva dribbled down your chin as you gasped frantically for air. He slapped his palm over your mouth before you could cough, reminding you to be silent. “Yeah? Another interview?” He angled your face upward, wanting the light to shine on you so he could witness every detail. You had tears streaming down your face, your lips bruised and glistening with your spit. Eren bent his head down, and for a second, his angelic smile fooled you. Thinking that he was aiming for a kiss, your body jerked when he spat onto your mouth. He giggled, couldn’t help but find this situation amusing. “Okay. When?”
“Now. She wants to interview you over the phone.”
“Now?” His grin grows wider when he sees you shaking your head, your eyes widening in protest. “Yeah, I’ve got some time to kill. I don’t have anything planned.” He framed your jaws, biting his lip at the thought of painting your face with his cum. “Yet.”
“All right. I’ll give her your number then.”
“Tell her to contact me right away.” He observed the way you ran your tongue all over his fingers, coating his digits with your saliva from his tips to his knuckles. “I’m a bit tired. I don’t want to fall asleep while waiting for her call.” Eren inserted his fingers into his mouth, watching you with a pair of mischievous eyes as he rolled his tongue around them, savoring the taste of your saliva mixed with his earlier pre-cum.
“Fine. You better watch your words, Jaeger. Stick to the script I gave you.”
“Yes, Sir.” Ending the call, Eren flung his phone to the bed. “Bend over.” You were being tossed like a rag doll before you could react, your breath knocked out of your lungs as you fell onto the sheets. 
“Eren—”
“Shut the fuck up and let me fuck that cunt,” he snarled, spinning you around until you were on all fours. Yanking his tie away from his collar, he wrapped it around your head, the black silk blinding your vision. Eren leaned forward, the material of his shirt grazing your backside as he snickered right beside your ear. “Our sex tape is a little bit outdated, don’t you think? Why don’t we make another one? Maybe this time we can upload it online. Let everyone see how good you are at taking my cock.” 
A whimper barely broke free when he shoved your head against the pillow, robbing your ability to speak. He gathered your phone, switched on your camera, and positioned it on the little space on your headboard. The video started recording, filming you from the front. On the screen, Eren could see himself taking off his belt. Both of your bodies were exposed. Your husband was still dressed perfectly in everything but his blazer, while you only had his tie to conceal your eyes. 
Smirking in satisfaction, he folded his belt and slapped your ass cheek with it. You flinched, whimpering in both thrill and pain. “You know what I’m so pissed about right now?” He spanked you again, not letting you answer him with words. “It’s the fact that you’re such a fucking whore, you couldn’t even wait for a day for me to come home. What, that fucking hole of yours is so loose now that you had to stuff yourself with a dildo to keep you satisfied? What would happen if I left for a month, huh?” Another slap, this time harder than before that a bruise bloomed instantly on your skin. “What are you going to do when your little toy can no longer please you? You’re gonna look for another dick, baby? Gonna fuck a guy and beg him to fill up your cunt, is that what you’re planning to do?” When the leather met your skin again, your arms quivered under your weight. “Answer me.”
“No!” You cried out. “No, I will never—I will never do that—o-only you, Ren!”
“That’s right, baby.” He chuckled, rewarding you with one last slap before he cast his belt to the side. “You belong to me.” 
His cock, still wet and lubricated with your saliva, was held firmly in one hand. He settled it against the crease of your ass, gliding it back and forth. “I haven’t fucked you here in a while.” He probed his tip against your rim. “But it would take time for me to loosen you up and I don’t think I’m up for that. Guess I’m just gonna have to fuck your ass later after I’m done with your cunt.”
You gulped at the thought, your fear and excitement were wrapped into one dizzying emotion, but once his phone rang again, it turned to nothing but panic. 
 “Oh no, they’re calling me so soon,” Eren sniggered. “What should I do?” His question was rhetorical, answering the call without a trace of shame or remorse in his voice. “Hello?” He spoke, pressing his phone against his ear while he maintained his other hand on your hip. “Yes, that’s me. Oh, yeah, from Kerrang Magazine, right? Hi, Hannah, it's a pleasure to meet you.”
Your heart plummeted to your stomach when you felt your husband nudging the head of his cock against your entrance. “Ere—mmph!” You were being shoved down again, your face buried deep inside your pillow.
“No, you’re not calling at a bad time.” Eren’s voice was exceptionally friendly and enthusiastic, putting on his best behavior. “I was just chatting with my wife. You know, enjoying her—” Eren, without warning, pushed himself inside, nipping on his lip to refrain himself from giggling, “—company.”
You could only whine, biting at the end of your pillow. Even after having that vibrator inside you, you could still feel how he was stretching you out so nicely. Losing your vision somehow heightened your senses, making you feel ten times more sensitive than you already were. Being recorded in this position was already a thrilling thought, but conversing with a stranger during your sexual intercourse? It felt like you were tiptoeing your way on the edge of a cliff.
“Yes, we’re planning to go on a tour during summer,” he let out a breath, almost groaning at the way your warmth was enveloping him at once. He had missed it. God, he’d missed how warm you were. How wet and needy your pussy felt around him. “So far, we’ve got fifty-one cities confirmed.” Your husband kept one hand pressed against a spot between your shoulder blades, pinning your upper body flat against the sheets while he kept your ass raised high in the air. 
“Oh, you do?” He chuckled, feigning bashfulness. “I think you’re just being too kind, Hannah, but thank you.” His voice reeked with innocence but the rest of him was anything but. He yanked you back up by your hair, holding you only by your ponytail as he fucked you senseless. A sudden forceful thrust almost sent you knocking your head against the board and you whined. 
“Hmm, it’s hard for me to say,” he continued, smacking his palm against your ass to remind you to stay mute. “Sometimes the music itself will lead me in and draw out a kind of weird emotion from me,” he answered yet another question, seemingly unbothered with the way he had his cock sliding in and out of your hole. There was a slight change in his expression when he felt your walls squeezing around him, your thighs quivering as he rubbed a spot inside you just right, but his voice remained steady. “Some of it does end up being autobiographical.” He brought you to your knees, his chest completing the dip of your spine as he grind his hips. His fingers were back inside your mouth to silence the noises, but whenever a whimper sounded a little bit too loud, you could feel him smirking against your ear. He loved it. Deep down, he wanted to get caught. “Yeah, exactly. It’s in those situations where I tend to actually go a bit more autobiographical with the lyrics.” Wanting to switch positions, Eren pulled himself out and rolled you over to your back. “Singing about love or relationships and things like that.”
He spread open your legs, settling himself between your thighs and sliding back in so easily even without using his hand. You had your fingers clawing against the sheets, your mouth covered by the back of your palm as you tried to keep quiet. Your face was decorated prettily with his tie. To Eren, you were the prettiest little slut he’d ever seen in his life. “You mean, my wife?” He chortled lightly into the phone, desirous eyes watching the trail of saliva that rubbed off to your cheek. “Yes, she’s been my inspiration since I was young.” 
You couldn’t see what was happening before you, but you could feel it when his lips ghosted over yours. He landed one hand on the sheets, right next to your head. You vaguely could hear a female voice resonating from his phone from the proximity you were in but you couldn’t make out the words. As she spoke, elaborating further on her question, Eren kissed you, softly but deeply, his hips coming to a halt for a moment. He occasionally muttered a small, “Mm-hmm,” between kisses, not giving a fuck over her words. 
“No, you’re not wrong,” he said, his thumb and index finger trapping your chin and pulling it down until you had your lips parted. “You could say on some levels some of the fans will know elements of my persona or subconscious better than I do.” As the interviewer elaborated further on his answer, Eren pushed away his phone, whispering, “Stick that tongue out. I wanna see that fucking tongue, open up.” Eren let his saliva pool inside his mouth before he darted his tongue and let it dribble down onto yours. “Swallow.” His eyes glazed with lust as he watched you take it in. He stuck his thumb inside your mouth, tugging down your lower jaw to make sure you had swallowed it all. “Good girl.” He smirked in satisfaction, his face dangling close above yours. “Now, say it with me.” He gestured to you to imitate his words. “Good girl,” he said at the same time you pronounced the words, giggling before he returned to his phone. 
“That’s correct, Hannah. But in terms of my personal life, there's not many that know who I really am,” he stated, taking off your blindfold and grinning at you when your gaze met. His eyes were as dark as the night, wild as a starving wolf. “How would I describe myself as a person?” His little laugh gave such a gentle, amiable vibe but the way he was strangling you with his fingers was the exact opposite. Your husband tucked his phone between his ear and his shoulder. “I don’t know.” He had one hand choking you while he slapped your breast with his other one. He started moving again, his hips swaying obscenely. “A devil, maybe?”
He was. He truly was a devil in disguise. Fear started to crawl on your skin when you felt your lungs starting to burn. The sensation of him fucking you fast and rough with pain scorching your senses drove you to the brink. Right before your pleasure could rip through you, Eren stopped everything at once. He was edging you, torturing you, sending enough amount of frustration that made you glare at him.
“Hannah, sorry, can you give me a sec?” He dragged his phone away for a moment, making sure the interviewer wouldn’t pick up his conversation. 
“Eren—”
He slapped you across the face, hard and fast. “You better show me some respect,” he uttered disdainfully. “Look at me with those eyes again and I wouldn’t be so kind.”
You gulped, your body left frozen under his smothering gaze. “Y-yes, Daddy.”
Taking your breast in one hand, he squeezed it tightly until you flinched. “You can only cum when I allow you to. You understand?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
He caressed your cheek, soothing the reddened skin even when his eyes still gleamed dangerously. “Good.” Returning to his phone, he dropped the superiority in his voice, reusing his affable tone once more. “Sorry about that. What were you asking me again?”
But he wasn’t making it any easier for you, was it? In fact, Eren was trying his best to make you cum, rubbing your clit on purpose with his thumb as he thrust his dick inside. You couldn’t stop a wanton cry from breaking free, clasping a palm over your mouth a second too late. 
Eren was pleased. “What? You heard something weird?” He spoke to the phone, acting nonchalant. “Oh, my daughter is watching TV, maybe that’s why.” He pitched his voice louder, pretending. “Irene, baby, keep it down, okay?” He rammed himself deep. “Daddy’s on the phone right now. I can’t concentrate if you—” he added three more thrusts, pushing you up further against the headboard that you had to reach back and place your arm on the surface to stop your head from knocking against it, “—keep making noises,” he finished with a haughty smirk.
The interview went on for a whole twenty minutes and you were being edged continuously without mercy. You were so close to lashing out when Eren gave a polite chuckle. “No, thank you for interviewing me today. It was really nice talking to you, Hannah. Yeah, take care. Bye.” Eren ended the call, throwing his phone over his shoulder. His pretty crooked teeth peeked behind a devilish grin as he giggled at your expression. “Now, where were we?” He removed his white shirt, giving you a nice view of his abs but he didn't let you marvel at his beauty for too long. 
He lifted both of your legs high in the air, pushing them forward until you had your body folded in half. He wasn’t planning to waste any second longer. Both of you had been playing a dangerous, torturous game for half an hour and it drove him feral.
Eren was so deep, deeper than before, deeper than ever, rubbing against your insides in a way that left you wailing. “That’s right, scream for me, baby. Scream for Daddy,” he simpered, sounding breathless and hoarse. “You’re still taking your pills?”
Yes, but you couldn’t remember whether you’ve taken one today. You were too hazy to think about it, or about anything else, really. “I—I don’t know—ah, Ren—”
“You know what?” He moved to your ear. “I don’t care. I’m still gonna stuff your tight little pussy with my cum whether you like it or not. You want to be my cumslut, don’t you? Let me grant your wish.”
Your legs were dangling over his shoulders, your bottom half raised in the air as he plunged himself repeatedly. “Fuck—” He gasped out when your walls quaked around him. “You’re sucking me in. You want to cum, baby?”
You threw your head back, slamming your skull against the pillow as you cried out, “Yes! Yes, I’m so close—”
“Start begging then.”
“Please,” you sobbed out, “Please, let me cum—”
“Again.”
“Daddy, please! I can’t—” Your mouth was opened wide in a silent scream. Lightning bolts of ecstasy shot through your body, going straight to your core. Your orgasm hit you so intensely that you squirted on his cock, feeling nothing but shame when he laughed degradingly at you. 
“You came without my permission.” He pulled away to see how much you’d coated his skin with your slick. “Filthy whore.” He slapped his hand against your cunt, the stinging pain causing your body to jolt in response. “You want to be punished?”
“No, Daddy–” He smacked it again, his fingers hitting your swollen clit. “Ah–Daddy, I’m sorry!”
He heard your words well, but even then, he still gave you another slap. “What was that, baby?”
“I’m…” You tried to withstand the throbbing pain that vibrated from between your legs. Your voice was reduced to a whimper. “I’m sorry…”
Under different circumstances, the sight of your eyes glazed by your tears would paint his heart with concern, but for some reason tonight, Eren just wanted to see more. “If you’re sorry,” he brought two of his fingers inside you, pumping them fast in a come-hither motion that made you yelp and squeeze your thighs together. “Spread those fucking legs. I wanna feel you cream all over my fucking dick again.”
You were being overstimulated, your body convulsing in response but your husband left you with no choice. You did as you were told, hooking your arms around your thighs and pulling them up as much as you could until every part of you was exposed.
Eren snorted haughtily, stroking his cock at the sight of your twitching hole. “Now, what do you say, Sweetheart?”
“Please fuck me, Daddy.”
He smirked. “That’s right.” 
Something shifted within you as you fell into the dark heat of his eyes, and once he plunged himself back inside you, you were once again consumed by the smothering passion he gave you. You landed a hand on his chest, trying to push him away to give you a moment to catch your breath. “W-wait—”
He removed your hand, grabbing you by your wrist and pinning it down against the sheets. “Shut up,” he growled, quickening his pace. “Take my fucking cock and scream my name. Or do you want me to use my hands again?”
“N-no, Daddy, I—oh my God–” This was pure animal fucking. Not a hint of romance, not a hint of love. And not a hint of your husband underneath the man that shared the same face with him. 
Eren could feel that he was so close to being blinded by the explosion of pure bliss. “I’m gonna cum, baby, you ready?”
He let your legs slide off his shoulders as he focused his everything on reaching his high. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you brought him closer until your chests were plastered to one another. Eren smashed his lips against yours, his kiss as forceful and messy as his thrust. “Fuck, so fucking tight—“
“Cum for me,” you plead in his ear, drawing his earlobe between his teeth. “Cum for me, Ren.”
“Ah, baby—” A strangled moan filled the air as he came, his hips stuttering before he slowed down, riding his orgasm. His arms were shaking with exertion, his nose pressing against the side of your throat. You could feel his cock throb with each shot of his cum, filling you up so much that his white seeds trickled out of you, staining the sheets underneath. He was still moving, lazily fucking back every little bit of semen that seeped out and you let him. 
When his body stopped trembling, Eren kept himself inside you the way he was, only reaching out one hand to snatch your phone from the headboard. It was still recording until he tapped his thumb on the screen. A new video was saved to the gallery. Tossing the phone to the bed, Eren returned to you, releasing the most blissful sigh as he laid his body flat on top of you.
“Did it really record everything?”
“Yeah, let’s watch it later. Put it on a big screen, grab some popcorn. It’ll be fun.”
You rolled your eyes. “You’re not going to pull out?” You asked him, your fingers idly playing with his strands.
“No,” he slurred out the word, feeling drowsy and enervated. “Let’s stay like this for a while. I love it when I have my dick inside you. You feel so warm.” 
“You’re gross.”
“You’re beautiful.” He elevated his face just enough to kiss your cheek. Joy bubbled up inside him at the sound of your pretty giggles but it only lasted for a few seconds before he turned pensive. “Baby… What if I got you pregnant again?” He mumbled, sounding more like himself than how he had sounded all night. There wasn’t a hint of amusement in his voice. He was concerned, maybe even guilty, for taking out your options. “We haven’t really talked about having another kid.”
The sudden change in his attitude was so baffling, that it robbed a burst of laughter out of your mouth. “You’re so cute.” You circled your arms around his neck, pulling him closer until his lips were a breath away. “It’s okay.” You kissed him once, unwinding the taut muscles on his shoulders. “We’ll let God decide for us. Whatever it turns out to be, I’m ready.”
He smiled, so delicately and beautifully, as he stroked your head, pushing your hair behind your ear. He lost himself in your gaze, planting a soft kiss on your temple before he asked you in a whisper, “Are you okay? Did I hurt you too much?”
“Just a little bit,” you giggled. “I can’t believe you really slapped me. Like seven times.”
“Oh my God.” He turned pale. “I’m so sorry, baby. I swear I didn’t mean to hurt you like that but you said you wanted me to do it and I—” You interrupted him with a kiss, letting him feel the glee in your smile. When you broke away, he was pouting at you. “You’re laughing at me.”
“I am,” you replied with a grin. “Were you really just pretending for my sake? I think you enjoyed it a little bit too much, treating me like a whore.”
A flush crept up his cheek. “W-well, I, uhh…” He cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t say it wasn’t enjoyable.”
“Can’t believe you ripped open my nightgown.”
Eren turned a shade redder. “F-for dramatic effects.”
Though amused, you gave him a look, judging him with narrowed eyes. “You could’ve just slapped me once and stopped there, you know.”
“I know, I’m so sorry,” he whined apologetically, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he drowned in shame. “It’s just… You looked so cute after I slapped you. I think I I got too… excited.”
“I’ve always known you were a bit of a sadist.”
He pulled away, slightly panicking as he peered into your eyes. “Will you forgive me?”
You melted into a smile, stroking his face. “Of course, Rennie.”
He leaned into your touch. “Will you still love me regardless?”
“Well,” you faked a weary sigh. “I’m married to you so…”
“Babyyy,” he nuzzled his nose against your neck, acting similarly to a dog, begging for your forgiveness. “Please still love me.”
“Fine, I’ll try my best.” Eren brushed his lips against yours again, laughing into your mouth. You stopped him before he could deepen the kiss, placing one finger on his lips. “On one condition, though.”
“Anything for my beautiful wife,” he replied, kissing your fingertip. 
“Let me make you my bitch and slap you next time too.”
He was baffled at first, then he stared flatly at you. “Couldn’t you have phrased it more romantically?”
“Let me make you my bitch and slap you next time, baby boy.”
“Literally didn’t change anything but okay.” Bestowing another kiss, Eren pulled himself out of you, kicked the rest of his clothing away, and rolled to his back. He was ready to cuddle close as he waited for his strength to return so he could take a shower. But to his surprise, you shifted and mounted yourself on his hips, your hands landing on the tight muscles of his abdomen.
“B-baby?”
You slapped him hard across the cheek, tossing his face to the side. Eren had his lips parted in shock when he returned his gaze to yours. “Bro, that felt so personal!”
You chortled. “Did I hurt your feelings, Princess?”
“Well, no, but—” You slapped him again and he whined. “Babyyyy, you make me feel like a whore!”
“You are a whore.” You yanked him up harshly by his necklace, forcing him to sit on the bed as you straddled his lap. “You’re my whore for the night. Gonna be a good boy for me, Rennie?”
He gulped. “Give me a five minutes break? I'm a bit tired—”
"I don't care if you're tired. I'm not finished." You curled your fingers around his throat, your grin was even more wicked than anything he had showcased earlier. "I'm gonna take care of you now, baby."
"Have mercy on me, please."
***
AN: DON'T LOOK AT ME OKAY Y'ALL REQUESTED THIS!!! I hope you enjoyed it despite all the slapping LMAO thanks so much for reading! Also huge thanks to Sandra for beta-reading this for me, you're the real MVP, babe!
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joelsgoldrush · 2 months ago
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“give me the first taste” | 10k
logan howlett x f!reader
part 2 of “GUILTY PLEASURE”
"Your hungry flirt borders intrusion / And I'm building memories on things we have not said / Full is not heavy as empty, not nearly, my love / Give me the first taste / Let it begin, heaven cannot wait forever / Darling, just start start the chase, I'll let you win." The First Taste by Fiona Apple
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SUMMARY: From the moment you first laid eyes on Logan, you knew he was a tough nut to crack. But if there’s one thing you love, it’s a challenge. As your relationship grows, you’re determined to show him that, in this universe, he can also be loved.
WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni - smut 18+ fluff. angst. drinking. dirty talk. slow-burnish. age-gap (reader is 25). once again wade saves the day. domestic!logan. soft dom!logan. logan calls reader “kid”. they watch (500) days of summer. oral sex (f and m receiving). fingering. thigh riding. thumb sucking. throat fucking. multiple orgasms. unprotected p in v. creampie (i would say i’m sorry but i’d be lying)
AUTHOR’S NOTE: jeez. hi guys!!! hope you’re doing alright. this is the 2nd part to “guilty pleasure.” writing for these two has been a total rollercoaster, but god was it worth it. as i always tell you, english isn’t my first language, so if you come across any mistake and you feel like letting me know, there’s no problem. thank you so much for all the support you’ve been giving my posts. i’m happy strangers out there take the time to read my silly stories :)
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A girl and a mutant walk into an apartment…
Actually, you’re still trying to come up with the rest of the joke. But one thing’s true: Logan’s about to set foot in your place.
You curse under your breath, putting both your hands to work as you struggle to open the door. “Fucking swollen wood. I hate humidity,” you mutter, glancing back at Logan, who frowns as you keep trying different maneuvers to get the door to function properly.
It’s a shitty situation overall. And having that gorgeous man practically glued to your back isn’t helping in any way. You can tell he wants to give you a hand, but you’re not having it—women in STEM or something of the sort.
“May I—” he starts, though you cut him off before he can finish.
“I’ve got this. Just need to—” you say, ramming your shoulder into the door with enough force to make it finally give away. Almost stumbling over the carpet but managing to catch yourself, you sigh in relief. Meanwhile, Logan stands still, scrutinizing you until you gesture for him to enter. “Welcome to the smallest apartment in New York City. It's nothing fancy, but it’s got everything you need for a comfortable stay on a budget. Make yourself at home!”
Logan narrows his eyes, the tiniest smirk playing on his lips before stepping inside. Each of his movements seems to be premeditated as he tosses his jacket onto the couch, surveying the room. A portrait of when you were a kid, probably six or seven years old, catches his attention. He tilts his head, picking up the picture to examine it more closely, and then flashes you a lopsided grin. “How cute.”
“Well, I’ve changed a lot,” you take the picture from his hands, returning it to the shelf where he had gotten it from. 
“Well,” he echoes, mocking your tone, “your beauty certainly hasn’t.”
His eyes bore into you as you meet his gaze. What amazes you most is that he’s being completely honest. In a heartbeat, you look away, wondering what’s gotten into you. Usually, you’re not this awkward—you’ve learned how to take compliments over the years, knowing how to smile just right, to flutter your eyelashes. To blush and giggle in command. Those were the tools that helped you to survive countless first dates—your dearest aces up your sleeve.
There’s no use denying that they remained just that: first, failed dates. You hope you never have to go back to dating apps after this.
“Are you hungry? ‘Cause I’m starving,” you say, trying to walk away from him, although he’s faster, catching your hand in his. 
“Hey,” he urges you to make eye contact with him, his voice perplexingly soft. “Is everything okay?”
You nod so vigorously that you nearly strain your neck. “I’m fine, I swear. I just never get past this point.”
Inching closer, he presses his lips together for a split second, his brows furrowing in confusion. “You lost me there.”
“Guys who come into my apartment don’t tend to call back,” you admit, a flush creeping up your face, cheeks getting hotter. “I happen to believe it’s a curse, though I’ve kissed, like, a hundred toads so far and it still won’t break.”
“So y’think you’re gonna scare me off,” he raises an eyebrow, grinning. His rough fingers become gentle as they tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s sweet. Should be the other way around.”
Wow. You two are a match made in heaven.
As you detach yourself from his embrace and head to the kitchen, you decide to look for something edible in the fridge, finding different trays of food from days ago, none of which look appetizing or suitable for feeding the Tin Woodman standing behind you.
All of a sudden, the unmistakable metallic sound of Logan’s claws unsheathing rings in your ears, forcing you to spin around. The image that unfolds before you is peculiar, to say the least: he’s cornering your cat against the door.
Why is he about to fight a cat?
“Please don’t kill him?” you take a step in his direction and scoop the little ball of white fur into your arms. Logan stares at both of you, eyes squinted and brows knitted. “I’m sure he’s the cutest feline you’ve ever seen. Have mercy on him.”
“I didn’t know you had a cat.”
“Earnest wasn’t aware of your existence either,” you reply, scratching along the animal’s back. He purrs beside your neck, his yellowish eyes never leaving Logan’s. “Earnest, this is Logan. He has claws just like you.”
“Don’t you dare compare me to that,” Logan warns you, retracting his claws with a sigh. You can’t help but wonder if he ever feels tranquil, at peace. “Y’know, you’ve doomed him to bad fortune with that name. Is he at least toilet trained?”
“Are you hating on The Importance of Being Earnest?” you ask, expecting a retort, though apparently the play’s title doesn’t ring a bell for him. “Oscar Wilde?”
“Who do you think you’re talkin’ to, kid?”
Now’s your time to roll your eyes, setting the cat down and letting it run away. He likes to hide in the bathroom—don’t ask why, because not even you know the answer to that. You flick your gaze up back to Logan, placing your hands on your hips. “See, you gave him trust issues.”
“He’ll survive. Don’t they have seven lives?”
This is the perfect conversation to have with someone who just ate you out thirty minutes ago: how many lives do cats have. Jesus.
At some point, Logan flops onto the couch, stretching out. You shudder as you hear him crack his neck, the popping sound getting on your nerves. He pats the empty side of the sofa, spreading his thighs until he’s almost taking up all the space. “Come here.”
Putting aside all your thoughts, you accept the invitation. You sit down, motionless, and his arm grazes the cushion behind your head, pulling you closer to him. You rest your cheek on his chest, letting out a deep sigh, one that you’ve been holding in since you got to the apartment. Is it possible that he knows you craved this? This proximity, this kind of affection. To be held—it’s been your only wish for months. He drums his fingers on your shoulder blades, then starts rubbing your back ever so lightly.
Far from dozing off, you feel alive.
It’s hard not to lose track of time and space when you find yourself immersed in the warmth he offers, and that’s when you realize how deeply you’re falling for this man. “Logan?” the mere thought of asking him what’s been on your mind terrifies you. The last thing you want is to ruin things—or whatever it is that you have. He hums, a low, heavy sound in his throat, indicating you to continue. “I have a question.”
“Ask away.”
You lift your face from his chest and look him in the eye. The city’s still alive outside, with music and chatter sneaking in through the window. Everything seems to be perfect, and you wish you could stay like this—just staring at him as if he were a painting in a museum, and you the critic who can’t stop writing articles about its beauty.
Okay, that was… weirdly specific. 
Logan tries to hide his smile as you peck his lips repeatedly. For a moment, you almost forget what you were going to ask him in the first place. But then he’s ready to listen, and you a wave of nausea washes over you.
“I know that we came here to… engage in adult practices.”
“Fucking, you mean.”
“I didn’t want to be that straightforward, but yeah,” you say, shaking your head as to rearrange your thoughts. “Would you mind if we stayed like this?” to emphasize your point, you kick your shoes off and put your legs on top of his lap. He observes the whole sequence without daring to utter a word. “Don’t get me wrong. I’d love to try that too. I truly do. But… right now, all I want is to cuddle,” he’s still silent, making you even more nervous. “I’m sorry. Is that okay with you?”
His whole body engulfs yours, your cheek coming to rest once again in its original position. You can feel the rhythmic beating of his heart, each breath he takes, the air he exhales dampening your nape. Logan peppers your neck with chaste kisses before pressing his lips to your temple. His voice comes out strained, partially muffled by your hair. “Who do you take me for, huh?” he’s right there, beside your ear, fucking everywhere. There isn’t a single centimeter of your exposed skin that he isn’t touching, marking as his. You don’t give him an answer, in part because you’re unsure of what to say. He takes your silence as a cue to keep talking. “Let me take you to bed.”
“I can walk on my own.”
“I know,” he mutters, standing up with you in his arms, one arm beneath your knees and the other one under your shoulders. Logan’s not used to being this cautious, this patient with someone he’s known for less than two weeks. You see it in his eyes when he lets his guard down—something that has cracked, a shell that’s been broken.
As he places you gently on top of the covers, he lingers for a moment, crouching beside the bed and searching for your lowered gaze. His fingers are warm as he tilts your chin up. “I didn’t come here just to have sex with you. That was a possibility, of course—but it’s not the main reason why I’m here,” he rasps, words accompanied by the light brush of his lips against yours for a quick, brief kiss. “I care about you. A lot. I’m fine with whatever we do as long as I get to be close to you,” he grabs your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He then goes back to his usual bossy self, his demeanor changing. “And I don’t want to hear you apologizing for not wanting to have sex ever again. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Now you’re making jokes?”
“I can’t have serious conversations,” you confess, observing the look of pure confusion on his face. “It’s true. I once spoke at a funeral and they cut me off forty seconds into my speech.”
Logan laughs at your sudden confession, his eyes crinkling at the edges. Rising to his feet, he begins to unbutton his flannel, pausing after the first few buttons are undone, waiting for your approval. “Do you want me to stay tonight?” 
“If that’s what you want.”
“It is what I want.”
“Are you sure?”
“Don’t make me change my mind.”
His words don’t hide any real threat—that you know.
You stifle your laughter, shedding your clothes. Instead of going to the bathroom to change, you toss your work clothes carelessly to the floor, opting for an old pair of pajamas that are the complete opposite of sexy. They surely have seen better days.
Logan’s eyes trail over you, taking his time to analyze the faded lettering on your wrinkled shirt. “Keep calm and eat pizza?” he reads aloud.
“Hey. I bought it when I was seventeen.”
“You could use a new wardrobe.”
“Well, what about you?” you tease, toying with his belt. “You’re gonna sleep like this in my bed?”
“Can’t wait for me to get my shirt off, huh?” he grins, that all-too-familiar smile on his lips.
You play along, folding your arms over your chest. “You think so highly of yourself.”
Without breaking eye contact, Logan unbuckles his jeans, letting them pool around his ankles. He then shrugs off his flannel, leaving him in just his briefs and vest. You scan his body, and the room suddenly feels a hundred degrees hotter, the air between you thickening. Logan notices your reaction, chuckling. “Don’t get too excited. This is all you’re getting today.”
“I think I’ve already heard that before.”
“Kid.”
You raise your hands in surrender, showing him your palms and mouthing ’sorry’. Approaching your bed, you pull back the covers and slip into it. When you see Logan still standing there, you frown. “Where are your manners? Come here. I’m very impatient.”
He grumbles something under his breath, but he doesn’t make you wait long. He proceeds to get under the sheets beside you, occupying that side of the bed that’s always been empty. As you both settle in, facing each other, you can’t help but giggle, your contagious laugh getting to him. “What now?”
“You’re beautiful,” you whisper, tracing the bridge of his nose with your index finger, a featherlight touch that has him closing his eyes. In the soft glow of the night, with the city’s distant sounds filtering in, he looks breathtaking. “I mean it.”
“Do you have an off switch?”
“I’m… not sure. Let’s find out tomorrow.”
“You need to sleep,” he pulls you onto his chest with firm but gentle hands. He intertwines his legs with yours, holding you close.
“Wait. I have a game to play.”
“It’s late.”
“Please?”
He sighs. “Okay.”
“We have to make confessions until we fall asleep.” 
“You just want to talk—that doesn’t even qualify as a game.”
“It does in this universe,” you reply, feeling his chest rumble with a chuckle as you settle more comfortably against him. “I’ll start: remember the first night you came to the bar?” he hums in acknowledgment. “It wasn’t Burger Night. We don’t serve food. I just wanted an excuse to talk to you.”
He kisses the top of your head, his arms tightening around you. “I knew. You don’t have a kitchen down there, baby,” he falls silent, taking his time to come up with a confession of his own. “I have a fear of flying.”
“Really? You, of all people?”
“I wasn’t expecting to be judged.”
“Oh, don’t be such a crybaby,” you tease, burying your face further into the crook of his shoulder, inhaling his scent. He shivers slightly where your nose touches his skin. “I like you. It’s kind of scary, and I’m sure saying something like this probably goes against the rules of dating 101, but I do. I feel safe with you, like—like this is where I’m supposed to be.”
Almost as if the pieces of the puzzle finally fit together, you think to yourself, though the words stay unspoken.
You’ve come to learn that Logan’s not a man of many words—he’s more of the “show, don’t tell” kind of guy. So when he makes you lift your face, you’re not surprised by the way he kisses you: hungrily. Passionately, like a starved man at an all-you-can-eat buffet. A soft whimper gets lost somewhere in your throat as his tongue makes its way into your mouth, languidly stroking yours.
“We didn’t brush our teeth,” you whisper against his lips, laughing when he groans in exasperation.
“You love having the final say, don’t you?”
“I’m being serious, Logan. Cavities are a real issue for me.”
“You can always get new teeth.”
“But my morning breath—”
“It’ll stink anyway, and so will mine,” he responds, taking a deep breath and clearing his throat once he settles into his ideal sleep position. “Good night.”
“Night,” you murmur, nuzzling your cheek against his neck. Despite your efforts to ignore it, being cradled like this feels incredible. You can’t believe you went twenty-five years without it.
Just as you’re about to drift off, curiosity strikes. “Can you get tattoos?”
“Bub, I was actually falling asleep.”
“Oh, okay. Sorry,” you mumble, feeling a bit sheepish.
More silence.
“Logan?”
“Hmm?”
“What was the Great Depression like?”
“Fuck me,” he mutters, his voice gruff as he shifts lightly. “It was fine. Now go to sleep.”
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And you do, but not for long. An abrupt coldness wakes you up, eyes wide open, feeling disoriented. It’s still pitch black outside, far quieter than when you first fell asleep. The clock on your nightstand reads it’s 3:17 am, though it feels like you’ve only been in bed for five minutes.
Then you see him—he’s twitching in his sleep on the far side of the bed, his painful grunts reaching your ears. Most of what he says is unintelligible, but there’s one word he keeps repeating over and over again without fail: “No.”
You don’t usually have nightmares. What’s the best way to wake someone from one? You’re still thinking when he starts mumbling again, his voice thick with distress, and now he’s throwing his arms in the air as if he were fighting off something—or someone—in his dreams.
Pressing your hands to his cheeks, you attempt to hold his face steady. He clenches his fists, his breath quickening the more he battles whatever’s haunting him. “Logan,” you whisper at first, subtly shaking his shoulders, but his eyebrows stay furrowed, deep in his nightmare. This time, you tighten your grip, fully sitting on top of him. “Logan. Logan! Wake up!”
Without warning, you’re on your back, pinned against the mattress. Logan’s straddling your hips, caging you in with his body, the weight of his adamantium skeleton pressing down. Your hands are trapped beneath his, and you watch as he clenches his jaw, teeth bared in a way that looks painful. His eyes are so dark and wild you barely recognize him, prominent veins throbbing in his neck with each labored breath he takes.
“Logan,” your own voice sounds unnatural, forced, as you do your best to bring him back to reality. “It’s me. You’re alright.”
That seems to get through him. Logan stares at you in disbelief, his eyes softening as they take in your terrified expression. He abruptly pulls away, retreating to the nearest wall. He’s gasping for air, slamming his eyes shut, his legs trembling. The only sound you can hear is his rapid breathing. You get up from the bed, taking a step in his direction, but you don’t manage to go any further since he stops you with a shout.
“Stay right there!” he’s growling, pointing his finger at you. “I’m serious. Don’t come any closer.”
“Logan…”
“Please, no!” his voice increases in pitch, not being able to meet your eyes. “Please. Just stay there.”
You comply, not wanting to upset him any further. Sitting back on your knees, you try to appear calm. A man so strong, capable of things you can’t even understand. A weapon turned against himself now stands before you, pushing you away as if his presence were poisonous. He slumps to the floor, the fabric of his vest soaked with sweat.
Once he’s fully conscious, you cautiously crawl toward him, watching his every move. On a random day, this might have been funny for both of you, but right now, there’s no room for laughter. Logan shakes his head, his shoulders tensing when you reach out to hug him, wrapping your arms around his broad frame. It takes him a couple of minutes, but eventually, his body sags against yours. For a while, neither of you speaks. You just thread your fingers through his hair, hoping the closeness will help soothe him. “Feeling better?” you whisper in the shell of his ear, and he pulls back to look you in the eye. You caress his cheek, his stubble rough against your skin. “Welcome back.”
“I’m sorry,” it’s the first thing he says, covering your hand with his. One by one, he kisses your knuckles, still shaking his head. “I don’t know what came over me.”
“You had a nightmare—it’s not like you could control it.”
“But I could’ve hurt you,” he says, lowering his gaze to your wrists, where his fingerprints have left their mark. “God. I’m so sorry. I have to go.”
“Wait!” you grab his arm, your mouth setting in a hard line, stopping him from leaving. “Don’t run away from me, not now. Don’t push me away, Logan.”
“I could’ve done something much worse.”
“But you didn’t. It was a nightmare, baby. You didn’t know,” you kiss his forehead, hoping to talk some sense into him. “Please, stay. Let’s try to get some more sleep.”
“What if—”
You hold his face close to yours, your noses brushing. “You won’t hurt me.” 
This time, he lets you keep him close, the roles now reversed. You can see him fighting his exhaustion, not wanting to fall asleep. But the more you play with his hair, the harder it is for him to stay awake.
“I’m alright,” he says, seemingly reading your mind. It’s hard to tell whether he’s reassuring you or himself.
“I know,” you knead his shoulder, aiming to ease the tension knotted there. “You better sleep, or I might start rambling again.”
A faint, tired hum escapes him, at long last allowing his eyes to close. “I like hearing you talk,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your collarbone, drifting off soon after that.
You continue to hug him, feeling the weight of his body gradually relax against yours as his breathing evens out. The room is quiet, but your mind is far from it: a tornado of emotions swirls within you—concern, relief, love, and something else you can’t quite decipher. It isn’t until sleep finally claims you too that your brain stops going a hundred kilometers an hour.
The most surreal Sunday night of your whole life.
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“So… when will you let me see Lolo again?”
Wade’s question makes you stop mid-pour, flicking your eyes between the drink and him. A few seats away, you hand a glass to Adam. Returning to where Wade’s currently sitting, you dry your hands on your apron. “Why are you even here?” you ask, raising an eyebrow, and he gives half a shrug. “Last time I checked, I wasn’t holding him against his will.”
“He’s been crashing at your place almost every night. You have your own methods, woman,” he raises one finger, then quickly adds another, pointing at your shirt. “Two methods, in fact.”
At that, you laugh mirthlessly, shaking your head with a grin. “I’m surprised anyone would willingly date you.”
“I could ask you the same thing,” he retorts, taking a tentative sip of his beer and leaning back in his chair.
You glance at him while you wipe down the bar, looking for something to occupy your hands. “He’s not my boyfriend—yet.”
Wade mimics a punch in his chest, just where his heart’s supposed to be, though you’re starting to question whether he has one. His lips form a small, exaggerated pout. “That must hurt, doll. You got yourself into a situationship with a goddamn fossil. Good luck getting out of that.”
“It’s not that bad,” you say, rolling your eyes. “We’re cool this way. There’s absolutely no need for a title.”
“Okay, let’s rehearse that one more time because you look like you’re about to cry,” he lifts an eyebrow, drawing nearer. “You want the title, right?”
“I don’t.”
He props his chin on his hand, laughing at you. “Yes, you do. You can’t fool me.”
“I said I don’t.”
“I said I don’t,” he mocks you, kicking his legs and puckering his lips.
You can’t help but throw the towel down on the counter with irritation, giving in. “Okay! Of course, I want the fucking title.”
“There she is!” he exclaims, throwing his hands up in a triumphant gesture. “Glad we’re speaking the truth now,” he tilts his head to the side, noticing your sudden silence. “Hey, drop the long face. I’m sure he’s been thinking about it. In order to understand Logan, I usually compare him to elders over ninety.”
“Why would you do that?” you ask, your tone a mix of mild annoyance and curiosity.
“Just think about it! Senior citizens didn’t date for too long in the past. They’d go straight from strangers to lovers. Take my grandparents, for example: in the span of one year, they met at a party, then got married, and had five kids. Do you really want to have a litter of Logan’s grumpy, hairy puppies?”
“Wade, that’s not even possible.”
“The point is,” he continues, finishing his beer and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “Logan’s rusty in this area, alright? I’d bet a thousand dollars he probably dated Cleopatra.”
“How did you pass History in high school?”
“I never graduated, but keep that between us,” he lifts his shoulders, shrugging. He spins the empty bottle, contemplating his next words. “You should tell him how you feel and what you want. That’s what works best for Vanessa and me. It’s easier that way—you can’t expect him to just guess.”
You wrap your arms around yourself. “I just wish he’d realize it on his own.”
“Well, sometimes you need to give the other person a bit of guidance. I’m just laying out the basics of a relationship here. Did your parents hate each other or something?”
The irony of it all. “They got divorced when I was little.” 
“Oh, god,” Wade sighs, rubbing his temples before glancing at you. “Let me get this straight: Mommy and Daddy weren’t exactly the poster children for love. And you also happen to be a bartender. Anything else, honey? Please tell me you’re at least getting laid, because otherwise, I’m going to feel tremendously sorry for you and your mental health.”
Just then, you hear your name being called. Smiling at Wade, you mumble: “Saved by the bell.” Once you’re back from taking some orders, Wade jumps to his feet, coming around the counter to hug you.
“Dude, what’s the matter with you?” you ask, loosely returning the hug. 
“You’re a fucking survivor,” he whispers in your ear, genuinely sounding concerned. “I don’t know how you do it—you seem so put together. I would’ve lost it by now. A life without sex sounds awful.”
“Jesus, Wade! Get off!” you stretch your arm to punch him in the back, earning a groan from him. “Back to your seat, gentleman. I certainly don’t need your pity.”
“I’m a certified sexologist. Your secret’s safe with me,” he declares with a smirk, gesturing to his empty beer. “But first, I’m gonna need more of this tasty apple juice.”
“I hope you’ve got some cash on you,” you say, getting him another beer. “Why do I get the feeling Logan would kill us if he knew we’re talking about this?”
“Isn’t that what makes it even better?”
Swaying on your feet, you scrunch your nose, momentarily lost in thought. “He won’t let me touch him. I don’t know if it’s me that does something wrong. We do have our… moments, but he takes care of himself. And usually in the bathroom.”
Wade goes white in front of you. “How long has this been going on?”
“Over a month.”
“Oh. That’s bad, like, really bad.”
“Thanks! I’ll be sleeping on the highway tonight. You can always join me.”
“Doll, it’s nothing that can’t be fixed, alright?” he waves his hand dismissively, then sets his palms flat on the counter. “I know I’m starting to sound like a broken record, but talking to him is your best bet. This isn’t something you can just brush under the carpet. You’re like a goddamn radio—put it to good use.”
Just as you’re about to reply, you spot Logan entering the bar. You raise a hand in greeting, waving at him. He meets your gaze and smiles briefly, and so your eyes drift to Wade’s, shooting him a warning look. “If you keep this to yourself, I won’t charge you for today,” you mutter through gritted teeth, to which he answers by pretending to zip his mouth closed.
Logan takes a seat next to him, ignoring his presence. Instead, he focuses entirely on you. “Hey, kid.”
“Hey, homey.”
“Hiya, Wade,” Wade greets himself with a mock cheer, patting his own back, which makes you laugh. He turns to Logan and his whole face lights up. “I’m afraid to tell you I can’t sleep when you’re not around.”
Logan rolls his eyes. “Get your shit together.”
“You’re the worst roommate ever! Can’t believe you got yourself a girl and completely forgot about your bro,” Wade murmurs under his breath, just as his phone rings. “Thank God. I’ve got to go. My love nugget’s calling,” he announces, heading for the door. Before leaving, Wade blows the two of you a kiss. “I hate you both, but I also love you. Peace out, my friends!”
Logan and you exchange glances. “He’s a funny guy, isn’t he?”
“You could say that,” he replies, leaning in to kiss you on the lips. Logan intends to deepen the kiss, but you pull away after a couple of seconds. He frowns, clearly confused. “That’s how you greet me?”
You bite your lip, trying to suppress a giggle. “My tip jar is practically empty, and I hate to say it, but it’s your fault.”
“Do you want me to say I’m sorry?”
“Oh, no.”
“Good, ‘cause I’m not,” he plants a quick kiss on your cheek, making you smile. “You have classes tomorrow, right?”
“Yeah, at 9 am,” you almost grunt, not feeling too enthusiastic about it. “I’m gonna need your help. I can’t sleep through my alarm, okay? The professor said tomorrow’s class is an important one. Midterms are right around the corner, and I can’t take the liberty of failing them.”
“That won’t happen,” he assures you, and you believe him. “I can be of help, don’t worry. You won’t oversleep.”
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Oh, Logan. Sweet, lying Logan.
Turns out you ended up oversleeping. Twenty-five years on this earth, and you still haven’t learned not to trust a man, even if his puppy-dog eyes silently beg you to do otherwise. The thing is—you love them. You love men. And you’re especially fond of the one currently sleeping in your bed.
The first rays of sunshine hit your face, waking you up. You attempt to raise a hand to shield your eyes, but moving any limbs feels like a Herculean task. A warm body is pressed against your back, one veiny arm draped over your stomach. Logan remains fast asleep behind you, his steady breathing succeeding in making you feel at ease. You reach back, running your fingers through his messy hair, and he grumbles in his sleep, instinctively pulling you closer.
What a nice, domestic morning. Yep, you’re getting used to this. And nope, you don’t regret it, not even in the slightest bit.
Though there must be a mistake, because you’re preeeeetty sure you had something important to do. 
Oh. You have classes. Had—past tense.
You reach for your nightstand, blindly groping for your phone. The charger is lying on the floor, the plastic of it all damaged. Perhaps Earnest had chewed on it while you were sleeping? You gently pry Logan’s arm off you, sitting up, and your bleary eyes land on something barely peeking out from under the bed.
It’s your fucking phone. The screen is completely shattered, with three distinct holes in the middle of it. Three holes, how strange! You can’t help but wonder who might have left them. Clutching your pillow, you whack Logan in the face with it. “Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty!”
He groans, trying to take the pillow away from you. “What the fuck is wrong with you, kid?”
“I wish I had a UNO reverse card because I should be the one asking you that!” you jab your finger into his chest, showing him the ruined phone. “You broke my fucking phone!”
“What?” he asks, voice laden with sleep, still disoriented. He holds the phone, carefully scrutinizing it. “I think I don’t know how to hit the snooze button.”
“No shit, Sherlock. I believe you’ve made that very clear,” you huff, tossing the phone aside as you flop back onto the mattress. The clock on your nightstand says 11:05 am, and you cover your face with your hands, taking a deep breath. “Next time, when it goes off, just wake me up and I’ll do it.”
Logan settles beside you, resting his head on his forearm as he watches you. “I’m sorry, bub. I’ll get you a new one.”
“It’s fine,” you murmur, sighing. This is your free ticket to be a menace. “I should’ve known dinosaurs and phones would never get along. My bad, pal.”
You don’t even get to see his reaction because he starts tickling you, the room filling with your laughter. Squealing, you try to wriggle away, but his fingers dig into your ribs, expertly finding your most ticklish spots. Your giggles escalate into breathless laughter, your eyes squeezed shut as you desperately attempt to push him away. He’s relentless, chuckling when his own laughter bubbles up. 
“L-logan, stop!” you gasp between fits of laughter, aiming to grasp his hands.
“We dinosaurs love tickling people. Sorry, sweetheart,” he manhandles you until you’re perched on his lap, fisting the fabric of your (his) shirt. Leaning forward, he captures your mouth in a heated kiss. “I’m sorry about the phone,” he slurs the words against your cheek, his lips trailing down to your neck. You tell him that it’s okay, trying to find a comfortable position on top of him, and that’s when his thigh presses against your core, your eyes widening at the unexpected sensation. Logan’s no fool, noticing the way your breath hitches. “What’s wrong, baby? You woke up needy?”
“No, I just—” you trail off as he does it again, his strong thigh coming in contact with your clothed cunt. You search for leverage by placing your hands on his shoulders, glancing at him. “Logan.”
“I’m all ears,” he rests his back against the headboard, the tent in his boxers impossible to ignore. “You want to get off on my thigh,” he states with certainty. It’s not a question—it’s a full-on statement. He knows what you want, what you crave. “Come on then. Grind against it.”
You do as he says, not caring to think twice. You start moving, rubbing your wet pussy against his muscular thigh. The friction sends jolts of pleasure through you, and soon, you’re whimpering his name, your hands trailing down his abs. Why hadn’t you tried this before? It feels fucking amazing.
From his position, Logan stares at you, his lips slightly parted, eyes clouded with lust. Your arousal drenches your panties, soaking through them, the fabric clinging to his coarse leg hair. He glances down at the mess you’re making, his grin widening as he takes in the sight. “Goddamn, woman. I’m gonna make you clean it off, I swear to God.”
“Need your help,” you whisper, lowering your head, the heat in your cheeks intensifying. The coil tightening inside you is almost unbearable. A kiss is what you lean in for, desperate for more, though Logan appears to have other plans. He fists your hair, pulling at your nape and yanking your head back. The roughness of the movement pulls a moan from your lips, your mouth parched like a desert. 
“Eyes up here, okay? You look at me when I make you come,” his raspy voice makes you feel tingly, each word sending shivers down your spine. His hands fiercely grab the flesh of your hips, guiding you, helping you grind harder against his thigh. You think you’re on the verge of drooling when you catch the way his abdomen flexes, working to push you toward that long-awaited release. “That’s it, there you go,” he rasps, relishing the sounds he’s eliciting from you, each of your gasps feeding his desire.
Time slows as the warmth in your belly finally erupts, your eyes fighting to stay open through the aftershocks of your orgasm. No actual words leave your mouth, just a string of whines and moans, some carrying Logan’s name. He swallows every single sound you make, everything you give him, grunting as your legs tremble and shake atop him.
He lets you collapse onto your back, your breathing gradually evening out. “I think I saw fireworks behind my lids,” you confess, your mouth dry, expecting Logan to flop onto the mattress beside you. But he doesn’t. Through your blurry vision, you contemplate as he positions himself between your parted legs, getting dangerously close to your cunt. “Logan, what are you— Oh, fuck,” you moan mid-sentence when you feel him pulling your panties aside to lick a slow strip through your folds, collecting your arousal. He points his tongue, dipping it into your entrance, and you wince, squirming. “Santa Claus, is that you?”
Logan grins against you, closing his mouth around clit for a moment. He then shifts until he’s eye-to-eye with you, two of his fingers sliding into you in one smooth motion. “Give me another one,” he murmurs, his other hand slipping under your shirt to play with your nipples, pinching them. 
You never imagined two fingers could bring such intense pleasure. You just lie there, taking it like a good girl, as Logan sometimes call you. “Please, I need you,” you cry out, your fingernails scraping against his torso.
“I know, darlin’. I’m right here,” he rasps against your temple, moving his fingers in and out of you with more enthusiasm. But what he doesn’t understand is that you need all of him. Your hands itch to touch him, to feel the weight of his cock. The corners of his mouth turn up as he watches you struggle to find words. “Wish you could see yourself like this. Such a pretty girl, so gorgeous like this,” his fingers keep grazing that bundle of joy deep inside you, and he goes in for a kiss, the sour taste of your slick invading your taste buds. “Tightest pussy I’ve ever had. Need to stretch you real good before fucking you with my cock.”
Bingo! That last sentence does it for you, and you come for the second time in the morning, your cunt clenching and spasming around his fingers. You hide your face in his neck, mouthing at his Adam’s apple. He hasn’t trimmed his beard in days, and it shows because you can now feel a burning sensation on the soft skin of your inner thighs.
“You’re allowed to break all my phones from now on,” you suggest, only to hear Logan’s laughter in your ear. He snakes a hand through your hair, shoving it back away from your face. You feel him kiss your sweaty forehead, and as you press yourself closer to his body, something hard nudges your hipbone.
Absentmindedly, you trace the waistband of his boxers with your index finger, your eyes snapping to his face. Logan freezes on the spot, and it’s almost as if he’s stopped breathing. Without a word, he rises from the bed, his movements sudden and almost mechanical. You watch him, puzzled, as he heads toward the bathroom, the intimacy of just moments ago being abruptly replaced by a dreadful silence.
“Logan, is everything okay? Do you need something?” you ask and he pauses at the bathroom door, his back to you. For a brief second, you think he might actually open up, but when he turns around, his expression is neutral, masking whatever thoughts are running through his mind. At last, he flashes you a quick smile.
“I’m fine,” he says, his tone gentle but distant. “Just gonna take a shower. Then we can have breakfast together, right?”
You nod, his words easing the growing sense of frustration gnawing at you. He disappears into the bathroom, and the sound of running water soon follows. You sink back into the bed, staring up at the ceiling. You take your pillow and bury your face in it, letting out a muffled groan. There’s something he isn't telling you, something hidden deep beneath his usual gruff exterior. Although you try to piece together the fragments of his behavior, they don’t quite fit.
The minutes drag on, and the sound of the shower becomes a distant, constant background noise. You close your eyes, visualizing your happy place, but your thoughts keep spiraling. All you can do is wait—wait for him to come back and act as if nothing had happened.
Logan’s right there, just a few feet away—yet in moments like these, he feels miles apart. It’s one of those days in which, no matter how hard you try, you can’t seem to bridge that distance. 
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It had all started with you asking Logan “Have you ever watched (500) Days of Summer?”
Of course, he had refused to watch the movie at first, and of course, you had threatened him with phoning Wade to let him know that Logan wanted to have a sleepover. That had done the trick.
You had asked for a day off at the bar, and surprisingly, your boss hadn’t objected. That turn of events led to this moment: sprawled out on the couch with Logan, the two of you watching the final minutes of your favorite film. Logan takes a long drag of his cigar, eyes trained intently on the screen. He’s only wearing sweatpants, which had caused your attention to drift from the plot a few times. The fact that you managed to sit through the entire movie without needing to pause it makes you feel particularly invincible.
Hey.
You again.
Yeah. I, uh, was just wondering if maybe after this, if, um, you— you want to get some coffee or something.
Oh, I’m sorry. I’m sort of supposed to meet someone after this.
Okay.
“That poor fella,” Logan murmurs, taking a slow sip of his beer. You look up at him from where your head rests on his lap, a contented smile playing on your lips. His fingers absently stroke your hair.
“Just wait,” you say, pointing to the screen of your laptop.
Sure.
What’s that?
Why not?
Okay. Well, then I’ll just, uh— I’ll wait for you.
We— we’ll figure it out.
We’ll figure it out.
“They’ll figure it out!” you exclaim, but Logan quickly shushes you, his attention unwavering.
My name’s Tom.
Nice to meet you. I’m Autumn.
When the movie comes to an end, you’re met with Joseph Gordon-Levitt breaking the fourth wall, staring straight at the audience as if he knows he’s about to get himself into a mess with another girl named after a season. You sit up, your eyes eagerly searching for Logan’s. “So? Did you like it? I’ve watched it seven times now. Can’t understand how it gets better each time.”
Logan closes his mouth around his cigar, inhaling deeply before answering. “Yeah, it was pretty good,” he says, his hand finding your cheek, thumb brushing softly against your skin. “Summer’s a bitch, though.”
“I respectfully disagree,” you tell him, grabbing his beer and giving it a try, only to grimace at the taste. Shuddering, you set it back down. “Why don’t you like her character?”
“Well, for starters, she did Tom dirty. Played with him like he was a damn rag doll.”
You raise an eyebrow, hugging a cushion closer to your chest as you lean back into the couch. “He knew from the beginning she didn’t want to be his girlfriend. Summer was clear—Tom just though he was smart enough to change her mind.”
“They acted like boyfriend and girlfriend the whole movie,” he scorns, placing his cigar down into the ashtray with a bit more force than necessary.
Is your first argument going to be over a movie? Exciting.
“Logan, they weren’t even official.”
“But she made it seem like they were,” he insists, the frustration in his voice growing.
“They were in a situationship—the perfect example, really. That’s not the same as being a couple.”
His gaze dips to the floor, brows knitted in a deep frown. “I think you’re relying on the technicality that they never used those titles. I mean, they did everything together. Isn’t that what normal couples do?”
Lord have mercy.
“Logan, who am I to you?” you inquire, crossing your arms over your chest.
He hesitates, narrowing his eyes, the question clearly catching him off guard. “You are—what? I don’t understand. Is this some kind of mind game you’re playing?”
“It’s actually very simple: if someone were to ask you about me, what would you say? Am I a friend? A bartender?” you inch forward, holding your breath, your tone faltering slightly. Meanwhile, Logan’s hands tighten into fists at his sides. “A fling? Your girlfriend? You complain so much about Summer, yet you can’t even name what we have.”
The living room falls into a heavy silence. Logan blinks slowly, his forehead creasing as he processes your words. “Why are you doing this to me?”
“Because these are the kinds of conversations we need to have. I understand you don’t want to have them, but I do.”
“Fine. Then tell me what it is that you want,” he asks, his mouth snapping shut when he sees you snorting in response.
“I don’t— I don’t know! To know how you feel, if possible?” you stand up from the couch, taking the cushion with you. You grind your jaw, gnawing on your bottom lip. “Why is it that every time I try to touch you, you push me away?”
He scrunches up his face, mirroring your movements and rising from his seat. “Bub, can we please talk about this tomorrow—”
“No! You don’t get to make all the choices, that’s not fair. Deciphering you isn’t easy, Logan. I’m not asking you to tell me everything you’ve been through. I just wish I could know how you feel about me. I can’t stand in front of you and pretend I don’t mind where this is going, because I’m more than sure I’m falling in love with you. “
“You can’t. You shouldn’t,” he says, his expression hardening. He turns his back to you, running his hands over his face in frustration before heading to the kitchen.
“Well, what were you expecting?” you follow him into the kitchen, finding Earnest on top of the fridge, beholding the scene with a curious gaze. “You basically moved in here, gave me a free trial of what life with you might be like, and now you have the audacity to appear surprised when I tell you I’ve caught feelings?” salty tears start rolling down your cheeks, and you spread your arms wide in exasperation. “Oh, but you’re right. How could I’ve been this stupid, to fall for the damned Wolverine!” you laugh bitterly, expecting him to break eye contact, but he doesn’t. “You think you’re so bad, so broken. Guess what: you’re not, because I love you, and I couldn’t care less about your past. You may think you’re unlovable, but you’re not, you hear me?”
For a heartbeat, the world seems to pause. And so he says:
“You are the most exasperating person I know.”
“Wow. Thank you so much!” you retort, your voice dripping with sarcasm. You run a hand through your hair, infuriated. “That makes me feel better!”
“Let me do the talking now,” he says, taking long strides toward you, and the proximity makes you lower your head. “You’re not getting the final say today. Just because I’m not over-sharing my feelings all the time doesn’t mean I don’t have them! In fact, I do. I may not express them openly, but they exist. And I wish you could see inside my head! You’d be delighted at how much time I spend thinking about you,” you cackle at his words, rolling your eyes. His fingers grip your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “There hasn’t been a single moment since the day we met that I have stopped wanting you. Your voice is like a goddamn radio that, no matter what I do, I can’t turn off. It’s like I’m infected by you, and I hate it!” his eyes burn with a mix of anger and affectionpur, his pursed lips softening as he continues. “No good ever comes from caring this much about someone. So excuse me for being scared of ruining the only good thing that’s happened to me in years!”
You hit him with the cushion—not with enough force to make him hurt, but enough to make a point.
“Drop it, kid.”
“I’m—” you hit him again, “not—” and again, “stupid. I know what I’m getting myself into,” as you attempt to raise the cushion once more, Logan takes it from your hands, throwing it on the counter. Your shoulders sag, trying to find the strength to keep going. “And I know for a fact,” you add, glancing at his conflicted eyes, “that the easiest thing for me would be to walk away from you, but I can’t. It’s too fucking late.”
“You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“I do! These are my feelings, okay? Mine, not yours. You don’t have the right to decide who I love and who I don’t.”
Logan’s eyes squint, scanning your face. “You’re… obnoxious.”
“Yeah, tell me something I don’t know.”
“And I—I love you,” he confesses, his nostrils flaring with emotion. Opening your mouth to say something, you close it moments later, your gaze locked on his. “You could take what you said, pretend as if I didn’t exist, and I wouldn’t say a thing, y’understand? I would move cities if you asked me, because I love you that fucking much, and I want you to be happy.”
You reach for his hand, briefly intertwining your fingers with his. Looking at him through your eyelashes, you rub your fingers over his stubble. “And what if my happiness comes from being with you?”
Logan lets out a harsh breath, his arm curling around your waist, pressing his chest to yours. “I can’t promise I’ll be the perfect boyfriend. I’ll probably makeplenty of mistakes.”
“Fine with me.”
“And you’ll be mad at me. A lot.”
“Don’t worry about that. I’ll make sure it’s mutual.”
Both of you laugh then, and you’re taken aback when he brushes his nose against your cheek, silently seeking permission to kiss you. His lips move hungrily against yours, trailing his hands down your spine, pulling you closer. He breaks the kiss and laughs at your eagerness when you chase after his mouth. You end up perched on his lap as he settles into one of your kitchen chairs. Logan stares into your eyes, his gaze drifting lower. “I won’t push you away this time. Not anymore.”
That’s your cue to finally do what you’ve been yearning for weeks. You fall to your knees in front of him, shaky fingers that graze the hairs on his happy trail. The bulge in his sweatpants is close to your face, and your mouth waters at the thought of having him between your lips. “Can I?” you ask, your voice a touch higher. 
He draws a long breath, tilting his head slightly. “You may, baby.”
You pull at his sweatpants and boxers, sliding them down his legs just enough to free his hard cock. As you take a look at it, you find yourself at a loss for words, the sight overwhelming. Nothing could’ve prepared you for the first taste of his precum as you envelop his head between your lips, that musky scent of his hitting you.
A whimper escapes you, and Logan hisses when you run your tongue along the slit, his hands gripping the back of your neck tightly. “Fuck, darlin’. Thought about your mouth so many times, but never imagined it’d feel this good,” he cants his hips up, causing your movements to stutter. “You can take a bit more, can’t you?” his question ends with a guttural grunt, his fingers tightening on your hair. “Gotta show me how much you want this.”
Logan takes all that you give him. You lower your head further, taking in another inch of him. Sex’s supposed to feel good, but this? It feels even greater. And he’s not even inside you yet, you hear a voice murmur in your head. The hand on your nape encourages you to move faster, and you sneak a hand between your bodies, grasping him by the base. You swallow around him, eyes fluttering open when he tugs sharply at your hair..
“Thaaaat’s it, honey. Just like that, want you to choke on it,” he grumbles, running his mouth just the way you like. The tip of his cock nudges the back of your throat and tears fill your eyes. You pull away to catch your breath, still stroking him as you regain composure. Logan’s gaze is intense, and he stares into your soul, his chest heaving. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Dick got your tongue?”
You’ll definitely get back to that joke later.
“Will you—can you—”
“Come on, beautiful. I don’t have all day.”
God, you love it when he’s mean.
“Fuck my throat,” you plead, your voice barely above a whisper.
A smile dangles on the corner of his lips. “We both know you can be nicer.”
The fucker makes your pulse race. “Can you fuck my throat?” you ask again, more insistently. “Please.”
He guides himself into your mouth, smirking as he watches how your eyes roll back in pleasure. “How polite of you to say please. Some good manners you’ve got.”
You whimper around him, your body responding to the rhythm he sets, fully immersed in the intensity of the moment. And for a while, you drift away, losing your sanity with each thrust of his hips, every tug at your hair. It’s almost impossible not to compare him to your past hookups. You try to recall at least a single instance when another man made you feel this way, but no memory surfaces.
Time seems to stretch and warp. You don’t really know when it happens—he pulls you off his cock, cradling your face, examining you. “You fucking love that, don’t you?” he asks with that sweet, syrupy voice, brushing away your tears. There’s no room left for embarrassment, so you nod, closing your mouth around his thumb. Defeated, Logan shakes his head, pressing his finger against your tongue. “I was planning on coming on your mouth, but I think I’ve got a better idea.”
In the blink of an eye, you’re in your bedroom. Not even a metaphor—he picks you up and basically runs to your room, closing the door behind him. You prop yourself on your forearms, trying to process what’s about to happen. Logan, already naked, climbs onto the bed after you, He kisses you slowly, tracing the curves of your body. “You still want this?”
“I do. I’m just… nervous, that’s all,” you admit, flashing him a quick smile. “It’s been two years of celibacy for me. Will it fit?” you ask, glancing down at his cock, and Logan stares at you in confusion. “Also, how many girlfriends have you had? Just curious.”
“I don’t think this is the time for that conversation.”
“You’re right,” you agree, lying back on the mattress, bracing yourself for what’s to come. “Were they pretty?”
“Bub.”
“Yes?”
“Shut up,” he replies with a smirk. “Focus on me, okay?”
Despite your tries to crack jokes at the worst possible moment, things escalate pretty quickly. Logan’s got three fingers inside you, pumping them in and out. He’s already made you come once with his mouth—to get you more relaxed, he had said. Wanting sounds slip past your lips as he doesn’t miss the chance to hit that spot that makes you squeeze your legs together. The tip of his nose drags long lines up and down the skin of your neck, mouthing at your jaw.
“I’m ready,” you mumble after some minutes, reaching for his cock and stroking him. “Let’s break the bed.”
“You’re lucky you’re this cute,” he says, catching your lips in a kiss. “Condom?”
“Negative, Sergeant.”
“You don’t have any?”
You shake your head, biting the inside of your cheek. “I don’t want you to use one.”
The way his gaze darkens doesn’t go unnoticed by you. His hand guides your face toward his cock. “Get me wet,” he commands, and you oblige, sucking him into your mouth. You hum around him, unable to contain yourself, and you hear Logan chuckling above you. “Can’t believe this is what it takes for you to shut up. Gotta keep your mouth full all the time.”
Once he’s satisfied with the way you’ve slicked him, he positions himself over you, caging you between his arms. Logan pins you down with his body, his hot breath mingling with yours. When you stare into his eyes, all you see is pure love, and your heart swells with affection. “Will you fuck the bad jokes out of me?”
Logan laughs, rubbing his length along your folds, grazing your clit for a fleeting second. “I sure as hell will,” he assures you, lining himself up with your wet entrance. He looks into your eyes for approval. “Ready?”
“I was born rea— Fuck!” you nearly scream as his head breaches you, your eyes squeezing shut. Turns out his fingers weren’t enough. “Fucking mutant dick.”
“You’ll love it, believe me,” he husks next to your ear. His arms shake where they rest on each side of your head, seemingly as affected as you are. Logan pulls out, and then fucks into you with a little more force.  “How are you still so tight? You’re killin’ me here.”
“I’ve got no idea, but you feel—amazing,” you gasp, latching onto his back, holding him close to you. His thrusts gain strength, and suddenly he’s bottoming inside you. “Oh, god. I can feel you in my stomach.”
“I know, baby, I know. Can feel it too,” he curls one of his hands around your throat, keeping you in place. From his position, he can watch the way your face contorts in pleasure. Lowering his head to envelop one of your nipples between his lips, he sucks hard. “You were desperate enough to get on your knees in the damn kitchen. You’ll be good now too, am I right?”
“Yes. Yes. I can be good,” you pant, eyes wide and pleading. “Anything you want. Just don’t stop.”
“I’m not stoppin’, princess. Don’t worry,” his mouth curves into a wicked grin as he drives into you again, this time even deeper. His hand on your throat tightens slightly, just enough to make you feel the pressure, grounding you in the moment. “That’s my girl,” he murmurs against your chest, his voice laden with need. 
Each thrust has you gasping, your body arching off the bed to meet his. Logan’s grip on your neck loosens as his hand slides down to grasp your hip. He squeezes your tender flesh, pulling you harder against him, as if he can’t get close enough. The bed creaks under the intensity, but you barely notice, too far lost in the rhythm of his movements.
“You’re perfect, all I’ve ever wanted,” he slips his free hand between your bodies to find your clit, and the moment his fingers make contact with it, you can’t help but whine. “So fuckin’ perfect,” you hear him repeat, more to himself than to you, his voice stranded as he tries to hold himself back, letting you chase your own release first.
The pressure inside you builds up, tightening with every skilled flick of his fingers. You’re sure you must look like a mess, sweaty and sticky, though the way he looks at you makes you forget everything else. “Logan, I’m—” you croak, the wind being knocked out of your lungs with each relentless thrust. “I think I’m gonna come.”
He picks up speed, snapping his hips faster. “I’ve got you, let go for me. I’ll take care of you, baby, I swear,” his pace becomes erratic, digging his fingers into the softness of your thighs as the headboard keeps slamming against the wall. Your body obeys him, a shuddering release tearing through you, moaning Logan’s name and gripping him like a vice. “That’s it, fuck, that’s it,” he doesn’t stop, driving you through your orgasm. His eyes snap to your face, contemplating how wrecked you look. “Tell me where—please, sweetheart.”
“Inside.”
“What?”
“I said inside. Come inside me, Logan.”
He’s not strong enough to deny you such a thing. Logan buries himself to the hilt, groaning your name as his cock twitches and paints your walls with his thick seed. Beside your head, his claws unsheate, tearing into the pillow. He ruts against you, his body trembling and writhing against yours, already apologizing for the pillow incident while pressing his forehead to your shoulder. “Sorry, I’m sorry. That hasn’t happened in a while.”
When Logan collapses beside you, he pulls you into his arms, kissing you eagerly. You return the kiss, wincing as you feel a bit of his cum slip out of you, rolling down your thighs. He stares at your glistening cunt without an ounce of remorse, and you close your legs. “That’s private.”
“It wasn’t very private a minute ago.”
“Logan?”
“Tell me, bub.”
“Knock, knock.”
He must truly love you, because he plays along: “Who’s there?”
“Ice cream.”
“Ice cream who?”
“Ice cream for you all night long.”
“Guess I didn’t succeed in fuckin’ the bad jokes out of you,” he teases softly, letting his head fall back on the bed. “But it’s fine. I’ll just have to keep tryin’.”
This is the story of how you end up dating a man who’s two hundred years old. But it’s also the story of how that same man learns to let his guard down and open his heart. So, remember this, kids: the sky’s the limit, especially when it comes to love—and yes, even when it involves dating mutants.
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dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! :)
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miabebe · 4 months ago
Text
Too Many Beds (Choi Seungcheol)
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Reverse Trope Series Installement 1
Pairing - Choi Seungcheol x afab! Reader
Word Count- 13k (don't ask me how I thought I could do this in 2k)
Genre - Enemies to lovers? Frenemies to lovers? Lovers to lovers? Idk man, these two are idiots, that's all. Oh and smut.
Warnings - one mention of blood cause of intense make out wew, other smut warnings under the cut!
A/n - I'm trying to do a Reverse Trope one shot series for all seventeen members, first up Choi Seungcheol :) Next up is 'Accidentally Kidnapping A Mafia Boss' Ft. Yoon Jeonghan hehe send me an ask/message to be tagged in that! Or you can also drop a comment when I drop the teaser in a few days!
Smut warnings - oral (m and f receiving), fingering, brief face fucking, thick dick cheol lol, slight choking, allusions to a breeding kink, unprotected sex (these two are digustingly in love, extremely horny and highly irresponsible, please don't be like them), creampie, mention of the word slut like once, and I'm hoping that's all?
“Absolutely not.”
“No way in hell.”
Seungcheol glared at you as you narrowed your eyes at him.
“I’m not sharing a room with him.”
“I refuse to even breathe in her vicinity.”
“Then maybe I should do mankind a service by being around you more.”
“The only way you can help mankind is by shutting your mouth.” Seungcheol leaned closer, his voice dropping. “You’re not pretty enough for all the stupidity that comes out of it.”
You rolled your eyes. “Rich coming from you. If I had a face like yours, I’d sue my parents.”
“Aw, fifth graders can insult better than you, sweetheart.”
“That was a fact, darling.”
“Ah” The two of you turned to the receptionist, finally remembering her presence as her eyes flickered between you and Seungcheol. “So, the two of you are dating?”
Looking at her incredulously and with unadulterated disgust, the two of you immediately took a step back.
“No!”
“No!”
“I’d rather stub my pinky toe on furniture everyday than date her-”
“And I’d rather choke on my own spit everyday than date him-”
“Oh baby, I knew you were a desperate one. I can give you something better to choke on-”
“Honey, are you sure? I heard you can stack fruit loops on that skinny thing-”
“Enough!” The old woman behind the counter got to her feet, putting her hands on her hips, the never-ending squabbling finally getting to her. “If either of you say another word, I will personally put you both in the tiniest broom closet I can find and trust me, the ones in this lodge are devastatingly small.”
You immediately shut up, dreading that idea more than anything. Seungcheol too became uncharacteristically and thankfully, quiet.
“Now, as far as your room is concerned, your company booked only one room, number-” She glanced at the paper in her hand and pulled out a pair of keys from the drawer. “- 68. If you can bear each other for 4 nights, well and good, get moving. If not, then take your things and get out of here. Good luck finding another lodge in this miserable weather.”
And as though on cue, a bright light, followed by a loud thunder flooded the room, taking all three of its inhabitants aback.
From the corner of your eye, you saw Seungcheol visibly gulp, well aware of his fear of thunder. Seungcheol too heard the way you sniffled, knowing that your rhinitis would only get worse with the humidity rising outside.
Sighing with the realization that there was no way out of this, both of you reached for the keys at the same time, making the old woman snatch it faster than the damn lightning to avoid yet another fight from breaking out. Ringing for the bellboy, she handed him the keys before he took your suitcase and Seungcheol’s bag in each hand, leading the way to your despair of the night.
Seungcheol followed quietly behind you, hands tucked in his pocket, his large headphones perched on his head as he swayed to the music, blatantly ignoring you. You were thankful for that. Since you were little children, you had always craved moments where you could pretend like this man didn’t exist. Why wouldn’t you? Everything about him was a pain in your ass.
You first met Seungcheol when you were five. Your fathers were college mates turned business partners and coincidentally, your mothers were best friends since high school. Naturally, everyone expected the children of both families to be just as close as their parents but alas, even at the age of five, you could not bear him for more than five minutes. He was so aggressive and unruly, always messing up your dolls, always pulling your hair, never giving you a second of peace when he was around. Albeit that behaviour got milder over the years but there were other things now.
Like the fact that your father always preferred to have a boy, a son who could be his heir, someone like Seungcheol. It wasn’t like he didn’t love you but a different side of him came out every time Seungcheol was around, a side not even you could bring out. He would laugh louder, his eyes would shine more, he would seem so carefree. Seungcheol too never missed the chance to rub that on your face, constantly sneering and claiming that your father would be happier if he was a part of the family.
Over the years, your displeasure and annoyance at Seungcheol only grew into a deep dislike. As though it wasn’t enough that the two of you did your entire schooling together (yes, all twelve years of it), he was always present anywhere and everywhere you went - the debate club, the swim team, the dance academy, the cafes, the libraries, the movies - there was no place you were free of him. Ever since you were young, you had longed to escape to a place far away from home just to be carefree and explore and reinvent yourself without the constant looming of a figment of your past. You had hoped that at least after school you’d have the chance to go away from him but as your luck would have it, the two of you were accepted into the same business school, were interning in the same company, were working on the same project, and had come out of town for the same three-day conference together. It was one thing to have to bear this man’s presence all day, now you had to do it all night as well, thanks to your cheapskate company.
As you got in the lift Seungcheol held the doors open for you before settling in the corner opposite yours, keeping as much distance in between as possible. The bell boy looked at both of you confused.
“I thought the two of you are dating?”
You groaned, rolling your eyes, and fished out your phone, scrolling through it instead.
Seungcheol glanced at you before scoffing at the absurd idea of dating you. He wasn’t foreign to that doubt though – people often wondered if they were together and Seungcheol wondered what on earth they saw between them that even resembled a speck of liking or even tolerance for one another.
Seungcheol had honestly not met anyone as stuck up as you. He never understood why his parents constantly considered you as the ideal role model for their son - ‘Look Cheol, she joined debate, you should too’, ‘She got selected in the swim team, you should try Cheol.’, ‘What do you think about dancing Cheol? She’s really good at it.’. Seungcheol was sick of being dragged into everything you were in, only to always be second. He hated debates, he would rather play football than swim, and though he liked to dance, ever since he joined the academy with you, even dancing was not giving him any solace.
Yet he gave his best all the time. He tried and tried and tried but he was always second to you who was evidently a natural at everything. For example, back in the school days, Seungcheol would almost get the same grades as you but at the cost of sacrificing nights of sleep and putting hours and hours into teaching himself. Meanwhile, you would breeze through the notes a day before the test, get a full 8-hour sleep and still score higher than him. As if that wasn’t enough, you’d invite him home, offering to “tutor” him only to constantly berate him about his ignorance, drop snide comments about how you were better, subtly challenge him in a battle that the both of you were well aware he could not win.
No wonder you had no friends while Seungcheol was as popular as could be - who would even want to be friends with you when you were always so cold and condescending towards anything that moved or breathed. If your parents weren’t joined at the hip, forcing Seungcheol to be a constant presence in your life, he wondered who would ever even talk to you? You should have been thankful for him, that he was the one human presence in your life who was always there despite it all, yet you treated him like he was beneath you. He had hoped that at least after graduating the two of you could part ways but the universe apparently loved playing cosmic jokes, putting the two of you together yet again, at the same workplace. And completely up in each other’s space for the next few days as well.
It wasn’t like the two of you hadn’t ever shared a room before - whenever your parents would meet up at each other’s house to drink and talk all night, the two of you had no choice but to crash in the same room, sharing the same bed even but thank God it was usually queen size, allowing the both of you to take two opposite ends, not even your breaths mingling. It had been years since that though…..Seungcheol felt a bead of sweat trickle down his back. He had no idea how he was to spend tonight in this room. Or the next few ones.
Neither did you.
As all three of you stood before the door and the bellboy fumbled with the keys, you glanced at Seungcheol. He looked unbothered as one could be. Perhaps you were overthinking this whole thing. It was a matter of four nights, surely the two of you could at least try to be courteous right?
“What in the...?”
Seungcheol’s voice rang in the empty corridor and you leaned to see what had him so shocked. Your own jaw dropped in a strange mixture of surprise, confusion, and relief.
Room 68 was no average hotel room. It was as big as the entire lobby, 7 heavily pillowed and blanketed single beds aligned from one end to the other almost military barrack style, only small bedside tables putting space between them.
“Room 68 is uh our bachelorette party suite.” The bellboy clarified. “For, you know, those big groups of girls who are hell bent on partying all night together?” He looked away like he was recalling a horrifying memory. “Since it’s holiday season, the lodge is booked out, this was the only room we had left. Is... is it not good?”
Seungcheol looked at you and for the first time in nearly 25 years, the two of you could finally agree on something.
“No.” You stepped in. “It’s perfect.”
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It had been years since you had seen Seungcheol half-naked.
Well, you frequently saw him during swim practice in those tight speedo shorts of his, ass all plump and taut but you were not talking about that. You were referring to the sight before you right now, him with a towel wrapped loosely around his waist, his wet hair falling into his eyes as he searched for something in his bag frantically �� most likely his aftershave. You knew he must have cleaned up given the conference was starting tomorrow and also that his cheeks were burning because you couldn’t smell the subtle cinnamon spice aftershave that usually followed in his routine.
Seungcheol strangely felt a pair of eyes on him as he rummaged through his things and suddenly remembered he was not alone in the room. He quickly turned, looking for you, finding you curled up in your bed, writing in what he guessed was your journal, unbothered by his presence. You were wearing that cute nightgown with little tomatoes drawn all over it which Seungcheol found funny given how much you hated tomatoes with all your heart and soul. Realising he had been looking for too long, Seungcheol gulped, quickly grabbing the aftershave he finally found and rushed back into the bathroom.
You flinched as you heard the door of the bathroom slam shut, looking up from your journal. Shaking your head exasperated, you returned to your writing. Seungcheol always handled things around him roughly like he was just not built to be gentle - slamming doors hard, breaking at least one coffee mug a month, causing rips in most of his clothes when he would gym because he was so big…. And muscular…. And built…..You bit the back of your pen thinking about how good he looked in his gym wear but if you were being honest, he looked best in a suit.
He’s going to be wearing one tomorrow.
You snapped out of your thoughts realizing you were entering dangerous waters and turned your attention back to your writing. Seungcheol made that process slightly harder as he walked out, furiously rubbing his towel against the back of his head, dressed in a black t-shirt and grey sweats.
As he sat down on his bed, he looked at you sitting six beds across, all the way in the other end of the room, right by the window. The moment the two of you entered the room, he took bed 1, the one against the wall and you took bed 7, the one against the opposite wall, putting the maximum possible distance between the two of you. He let you use the bathroom first, not because he knew you preferred using it when it is dry but because he thought this was the best time for him to call his parents and wish them goodnight….. even though it was still 7:30.
He showered after you did but even now, despite being so far from you, he could still smell your bodywash, the fragrance of lilies, the mildest kind because strong fragrances irritated your sensitive nose. Throwing his towel on the chair he kicked his legs off the floor and lied on the bed, turning to the wall, hearing the faint annoyed click of a tongue. Seungcheol knew exactly what triggered it - you hated it when he tossed damp towels like that. But honestly, he couldn't care less right now, not when there were more important things to deal with tomorrow, not when he was so tired already.
You shut your journal, irritated by his behaviour remembering exactly why being in the same vicinity as this man infuriated you. Flipping the lights off and pulling the covers over your shivering body, you realigned your thoughts towards your goal - Tomorrow’s conference was crucial. You had to look your best and do your best so clocking in 8 hours of sleep was the priority, Choi Seungcheol's character development be damned.
But as you lied down turning towards the window, lightning flashed across the sky, a loud thunder following. You turned to see Seungcheol and his back was facing you, the outline of his figure moving up and down rhythmically like he was already in a deep sleep. Slightly relieved yet still unconvinced, you turned towards him before the sleep and tiredness took you away.
Seungcheol simply stared at the wall all night.
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Seungcheol most definitely did not sleep all night.
You could tell by the fact that one, he was up without you waking him and two, he was not there in the room right now. That meant he was out for a run which in turn meant his face must have been all swollen which definitely meant he didn’t get enough sleep. You did notice though that his bedding had shifted from bed 1 to bed 2 and guessed it was because of the coldness of the wall - Seungcheol had the habit of tossing and turning at night and there was nothing he hated more than his bare skin accidentally brushing the cold walls. Considering you were still five beds away from him, you ignored it as you went to wash up and prepare for the day.
When he saw the time on his watch as he finished his last lap, Seungcheol realised he was way behind schedule and that you probably were already at breakfast, sitting with a dozen snide remarks, waiting for him. True enough, as he quickly showered, dressed, and headed down to the buffet, you were there already, going through the proposal, the plate beside you nearly empty. Quickly grabbing a piece of toast and stuffing it in his mouth he walked over, putting on his suit jacket in a hurry. As you saw him approach, you shut your laptop, looking at him top to down in an ensemble that fit him all too well. Seungcheol’s eyes wandered over the pretty way you did your hair, and the plunging neckline of your blouse, a sliver of your pink bra peeking from underneath the fabric-
Both of you cleared your throats and looked away.
“We should leave, the cab should be here in-” He glanced at his watch. “-should have been here ten minutes ago, fuck.”
“It’ll be here in ten.” You pushed a cup of coffee towards him, looking at him pointedly to take a seat. Seungcheol glanced at it then back at you.
“You changed the time on my watch.” He huffed annoyed. “Again.”
“Glad to know you are still capable of basic comprehension.”
“You vile woman.” Seungcheol gritted between his teeth, sitting down. “I showered so fast I thought I was going to pass out.”
“But you didn’t.” You shrugged. “And learn to be grateful Seungcheol, you’re only ever on time when I meddle, so say thanks to me.”
“I’d rather die before I thank you.” He took a sip of the coffee before the extreme bitterness hit his tongue, making him spit it out right back into the cup. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“You did say you’d rather die.”
“Fuck you.”
“I know ten minutes is more than enough for you but personally, I prefer longer.”
Every single time. Every single time you flashed him that sweet, mocking smile and every single time it pushed his buttons like no other. One day he swore to put you in your place but right now he was too low on energy for that.
Well aware that you loved strawberries more than anything, he grabbed the last one on your plate and walked off to the taxi stand, ignoring the way you whined behind him.
“Oh, real mature of you Choi Seungcheol!”
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You knew in your stress about perfecting the proposal early in the morning you had forgotten something important and the moment you stepped into the room that night, you knew exactly what that was.
To close the windows.
Thanks to the pouring rain, the water had drenched your entire bed, not to forget, your bag full of your clothes which was conveniently placed right on the mattress, soaking nearly every piece of clothing you owned. Thank God the laundry in the lodge said they would handle it for you so you still had an outfit for tomorrow’s conference but there were still two major concerns - one, what to wear tonight and two, where to sleep tonight.
You solved the first problem (almost) by grabbing your umbrella and heading to the nearest clothing store as instructed by the receptionist only to find out it sold barely any ‘cloth’ at all. It was an adult shop, filled majorly with lingerie of all kinds which were aiming to cover as little as possible. Groaning inwardly, knowing you didn’t have a phone on you to go any further in this weather, you grabbed the most decent nightgown you could find and rushed back.
A hot shower, a change of clothes and a quick meal later you decided to deal with your second problem, moving your things from bed 7 to 6, not too displeased considering there were still three beds between the two of you. You glanced at Seungcheol’s empty bed and then at the time - it was well past 10. Sighing, you settled under the covers pulling out your journal to write but got lost in your thoughts instead.
You were pretty proud of what you presented today - people praised you, congratulated you for a well drafted proposal and even went so far as to offer you jobs in their company. Yet you were not satisfied. Somehow, the one thing constantly running in your mind was the swarm of women who had flocked around Seungcheol the moment the conference was done, ‘mindlessly’ touching his arms, ‘casually’ brushing their chests against his, ‘genuinely’ laughing too hard at whatever bullshit came out of his mouth.
This was not new to you, Choi Seungcheol being the centre of attention wherever he went. He enjoyed it, basked in it, and chose to make a show of it whenever he got a chance. It was all so fake and superficial; you could not bear to stand it. That’s why even though everyone decided to go out for dinner and drinks tonight, yes, all twenty-seven of them, you politely said goodbye citing a headache and took a cab back. You were not interested in casual conversation and definitely not interested in seeing Seungcheol’s pathetic flirting.
Just as you begin to relish his absence and the beautiful silence that came with it, a loud knocking on the door and his voice screaming your name ended your perfect night. Grumbling, you opened the door to a fully drenched Seungcheol looking absolutely frazzled.
“What the hell-”
He stopped when his eyes fell on you dressed in a white floor length satin gown, the material seductively clinging to the curves of your body, your leg slightly visible between the slit. You crossed your arms to cover yourself up, feeling conscious under his gaze as he gulped audibly.
“What the hell were you thinking?” He met your eyes, a slight worry flashing behind the anger. “You just disappeared without letting me know-”
“I told you I was leaving.” You walked into the room rolling your eyes. “Maybe if you could see something beyond all that pathetic fangirling you’d have heard.”
“Fangirling?” He looked genuinely confused, following you in as he stripped off his jacket. You tried your best to not stare at the way his pecs were so perfectly outlined under the wet shirt sticking to his body but Seungcheol caught you peering, his features lighting up with amusement.
“Would you look at that?” He smirked. “Someone is jealous.”
“Please.” You scoffed. “I wouldn’t be jealous even if we were the last people on Earth.”
“Obviously, if we were the last people, who would you even be jealous of?”
You sighed. “You know what I mean.”
“I actually don't, sweetheart. If a little action is all you want, you can just ask for it you know?”
“Funny coming from a guy who kissed me just because another man was talking to me.”
The first tea break of the conference had led to an introduction that was surprising to you considering people did not really tend to approach you on their own. It was even more shocking that this man chose to speak to you in the lunch break as well, completely unprompted. He was sweet, not egging you too much with conversation, simply limiting it to work and the conference and then Choi Seungcheol appeared out of nowhere, snaking an arm around your waist, uninvited. Before you could glare at him and send him away, he planted a soft kiss on your cheek, excused himself and led you away from there, only to abandon you the very next second without an explanation.
“You call that a kiss?” Seungcheol scoffed. “You were so swept off your feet, you were this close to spilling details on our quotation for the project. That was actually me shutting you up.”
“Oh yeah?” You raised an eyebrow. “If you really wanted to shut me up, then you should have kissed me on the mouth.”
Seungcheol stared at you wordlessly.
As you began to walk away, he pulled you by the elbow, putting you against the wall, trapping you between his hands on either side.
“Is that how?” He leaned closer, the scent of his cologne taking over your senses. “Because there is nothing I’d love to do more than shut you up.” He cocked his head with a small smile. “And maybe also show you what a kiss really is.”
You tried not to gulp the phantom lump in your throat, cheeks suddenly hot under his gaze. Somehow, as though it had a mind of its own, your hand traced his exposed collar bone, trailing down his chest slowly, eyes following. Seungcheol held his breath under your touch. You stopped your tracks at his hard pecs, right above his heart beating just as fast as yours and looked up at him.
And then twisted his nipple.
Shrieking in pain, Seungcheol stumbled back, clutching his chest.
“What the hell mate?”
You walked towards your bed, grabbing your matching satin night robe and slipping it on. “It's ridiculous that you even think you of all people could show me a real kiss.”
“You forget sweetheart, I was your first one.”
You turned to Seungcheol as he brought up a memory you had actually done a great job forgetting. It was during your senior year - your parents had forced you to accompany Seungcheol to a house party so you could “get more involved in the social scene” instead of holing yourself up in your room all the time. It was a classic game of truth or dare and the worst dare of your life - to kiss Seungcheol for a minute.
Now the last thing you wanted to hear was him teasing you every day about how you were too scared to kiss him so you held him by the collar and pulled yourself into his lap straddling him, your mouth meeting his in a frenzy. If you were being honest, something about that kiss served as your sexual awakening - maybe it was the way he moaned into your mouth, or his hands gripped your ass, or hands entangled in his soft hair or your chest pressed up against his. Whatever it was, there was a video of it that your classmates took circulating somewhere out there, timed around five and a half minutes as opposed to the one minute it was supposed to be.
“Don’t take too much pride in yourself Cheol.” You sat on the bed, leaning back on your hands planted in the mattress. “Only I know how many other guys I had to kiss after that to know what kissing truly is.”
Seungcheol felt his jaw tighten.
Something in you had changed in junior year. Yes, you were still the same antisocial, inhospitable, unapproachable person you always were but somehow every other day, he found you in a new location with a new guy's tongue shoved down your throat. They were not boyfriends, Seungcheol knew that much, and it was the fact that they weren't that made his blood boil with anger.
“You shouldn’t take pride in yourself either sweetheart.” He looked at you with a strange mixture of anger and pity. “There's nothing to feel accomplished about not forming a single real bond in your life.”
The moment the words left his mouth Seungcheol regretted it, knowing he had hit a soft spot. It was too late now; the damage was done - pain was flashing in your eyes.
You looked at the insensitive man before you and laughed at him sadly, mirroring his hurtful words.
“No real bond? I’m afraid you filled that void Seungcheol. Hate forms really strong bonds too.”
And with that you turned away from him, tucking yourself under the sheets, turning off the lights on your side of the room. Grabbing his towel and a change of clothes, Seungcheol locked himself up in the bathroom, your words piercing his heart like no other. Over the years yes, the two of you argued and fought and annoyed each other and couldn’t stand one another but hate? He didn’t ever think that’s what you felt for him. Perhaps he deserved it - he had after all crossed a line with that comment.
He knew you had always struggled around people. He knew that even though you detested taking his help for anything, in every social setting, you would always choose to hide behind him. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to interact, you just couldn’t. You were a sick child since birth, constantly brought down by various illnesses that often confined you to your room - you didn’t go out to play with the other children, you didn’t join the kids on their trips to the ice cream shop, you didn’t go late night camping with your classmates, you didn’t do a lot of what kids your age did.
And when you were old enough, when you were healthy enough to step out into the world, you didn’t know how to anymore. Hence you continued to stay in your own shell, closing yourself off from everyone, wary of any and all interactions. Seungcheol knew all this, that’s why when he couldn't lay his eyes on you in the crowd of the conference, the panic he felt was like no other. He never thought he would ever feel his heart stop but Seungcheol felt it twice today - once when he lost you and the other when you said that. I’m afraid you filled that void Seungcheol. Hate forms really strong bonds too.
You stared out of the window, mildly annoyed by all the light falling in your face, Seungcheol’s words ringing in your ears. It might have sounded harsh but he was right. You never formed real bonds with anyone, you could never bring yourself to. Having spent years all by yourself, you didn’t know what it was like to let another person into a space that was entirely yours. That’s why, though you engaged in all sorts of flings and hookups, you never let it go beyond that - you never let yourself lose your heart to someone, walking away from them before they could walk away from you.
In that sense, Seungcheol was indeed the realest bond you had - just a constantly present, mildly irritating, oddly comforting white noise in your life. It was easy with him - you never had to think in his presence, you never had to wonder whether anything would drive him away, never had to worry about keeping him by your side unconditionally - he was always there. Somehow what you felt for Seungcheol was liberating in a way you hadn’t even realized. Hate could hardly define that; you were unnecessarily harsh earlier.
Seungcheol stepped out of the bathroom, eyes falling on your unmoving figure which he just realized was on bed 6 instead of 7. Noticing the damp sheets and piecing it together, he didn’t think too much of it as he switched off the lights and crawled into his bed.
Hearing the sounds of him shuffling, you turned towards him.
“Are you not going for the dinner?”
“It’s too late now. I would have eaten there if I didn’t have to run back here to check up on you.”
“You could have just called me.”
“I did.” He turned to you, looking at just your silhouette in the darkness. “A few hundred times.”
You checked your phone immediately and it wasn’t a hundred times but there were some fifty odd calls from him and two dozen messages.
“I put my phone on silent during the conference and forgot to take it off.” You mumbled, just a little guilty that he was missing out on a gathering because of you. “Did you at least eat?”
“I’m not hungry, thanks to all the Americanos you kept feeding me all day.”
“If not for that, you would have been snoring in the conference barely an hour after it began.” You turned to lie on your back, facing the ceiling. “And I wouldn’t have had to do that if you’d just obediently drank that double shot espresso in the morning.”
Seungcheol remembered you sliding the coffee cup to him and smiled to himself in the dark.
“Then maybe you should also listen to me and stop munching on those strawberries every chance you get, especially when you know they flare your allergies.”
You remembered Seungcheol gobbling up the last berry and smiled to yourself in the dark.
“Goodnight, you obnoxious prick.”
“Goodnight, you insufferable fiend."
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When you woke up in the morning, two things had changed - one, Seungcheol had moved from bed 2 to bed 3 in the middle of the night and two, his shirt was gone, discarded somewhere in the mess on the floor. He was lying sprawled on his bare stomach, his back covered in a thin sheet of sweat, his tattoo shining as the light hit it. Ignoring the sight before you with much difficulty, you shook him awake.
“Get up Cheol, we’re going to be late.”
He groaned, rolling over, eyes slowly blinking open, falling on you first thing in the morning. Even though you were dressed in the sultriest thing he had ever seen on you, Seungcheol controlled himself and tore his eyes away.
“The radiator is right across the other bed; I was literally burning all night.” He mumbled, stretching awake, justifying his move.
You turned towards it noticing how it was in fact between bed two and three, closer to three than two to be honest. Considering Seungcheol was still drenched in sweat, his move in the middle of the night was actually quite pointless, but you chose not to say anything about it. Quickly washing up, the two of you rushed for breakfast, skimming over the presentation notes one last time. Today, neither of you noticed but Seungcheol drank the coffee and you didn’t eat the strawberries.
Day two went by in a flash much like day one. Only this time, you didn’t talk to the gentleman from yesterday, choosing to sit quietly by Seungcheol in the break and he didn’t leave your side either, regardless of all the ladies calling him to join them. In the evening, as the team headed to the city’s best karaoke bar, inviting you and Seungcheol again, Seungcheol brushed them off claiming the two of you had a little more work to do on the proposal. To his surprise, you shot him down, agreeing to join everyone, looking at him with a small smile.
“Don’t be such a killjoy darling.”
Seungcheol knew you were compensating for last night so he followed, well aware that you would most likely want to leave the moment the singing started. Well, he was almost right - you actually wanted to leave the moment you stepped foot into the room, turning to him with pleading eyes. Seungcheol turned you by your shoulder, laughing as he led you in.
“Don’t be such a killjoy sweetheart.”
You sat patiently as the beers poured in and people around you fought for the photobooth props. Seungcheol was sitting right beside you, his thigh a comforting weight against yours, laughing with everyone. As the night progressed, you had downed a beer or two, a slight buzz taking over, not noticing the way Seungcheol had his arm around you now or that you were warmly cuddled against his torso. Soon, one by one, everyone settled on the couches, tired from all the screaming, resorting to chatter instead and deciding on an old-fashioned game of truth or dare. Seungcheol smirked at you and you turned his face away with a soft push.
“So Seungcheol,” The man beside him spoke. “Truth or dare?”
“Neither actually. We should leave now.” He stood, pulling you up, stumbling slightly. “I’ve had too much to drink and it's late, Y/n needs to sleep.”
“Didn’t realize wacky wallflower here also had the bedtime of a toddler.” One of Seungcheol’s many fangirls piqued, jealousy stark on her face. “We can book her a cab, why don’t you stay a little longer, Cheolie?”
You raised an eyebrow, amused at the nickname, and at her jealousy but Seungcheol did not find anything about her words even remotely funny.
“No thanks, I go where she goes.”
“I thought you guys weren’t dating? Then why-”
“That doesn’t change what I said.” His voice dropped an octave. “I go where she goes.”
“Cheol.” You placed a hand on his chest, sensing his anger rising. “It’s fine, let’s stay for a few rounds, yeah?”
Seungcheol looked at you frowning as you sat down, pulling him with you. The girl you already disliked but quite vehemently hate now, spun the bottle with a giggle.
“We don’t have to stay.” Seungcheol whispered as the guy beside you excitedly asked the one across him a question. “You stayed long enough, you need sleep-”
“I’m fine.”
“I’m not.” He spoke between gritted teeth. “Just looking at that foul woman makes me mad. I already said I wasn’t interested in her, she had no reason to be a bitch.”
“Well then don’t you want to put the bitch in her place Cheol?”
You looked at him with big doe eyes which terrified Seungcheol even more. What on Earth were you up to?
“Y/n, you get to ask Yuri!”
You looked at the bottle to see it pointing between you and your little conquest of the night. Hook.
“Truth or dare?” Line.
“Dare.” And Sinker.
“Okay Yuri, then I dare you to not take your eyes off.”
You pulled Seungcheol by the collar, smashing your lips on his, swallowing his audible moan. His hands immediately found your waist, pulling you closer, up against his body, teeth roughly tugging your lower lip. Hand sliding up his neck and across his jaw, you entangled your fingers in his hair, drawing him even closer denying even air the right to come between the two of you. Yes, it was all a show for Yuri or whatever her name was, but at a point, she stomped her foot and got up, running out of the room. Perhaps the two of you should have stopped then or at least when you were running out of breath. But you only broke apart when someone dropped a beer bottle, smashing the glass loudly on the floor. Seungcheol and you looked at it, faces flushed, lips swollen. A low whistle echoed in the room.
“We-” Seungcheol cleared his throat, trying to get his voice back. “We should get going.”
“Y-yeah.” You agreed, getting up and grabbing your things as Seungcheol smoothened his hair with his hand, muttering a small goodbye to everyone. As the two of you stepped out of the room, you found Yuri crying at the entrance, her friend trying her best to console her. Not sparing her another glance, you walked away, Seungcheol following you close behind. As the cold air hit you when you reached the taxi stand, you felt a painful sting on your lower lip, making you hiss. Hand cupping your face, Seungcheol wiped the trickle of blood with his thumb.
“Guess you desperately did need a real kiss huh?”
“Shut up.” You smacked his hand away. “I had to help the poor girl get over her pathetic taste in men.”
“By getting a taste of me?” Seungcheol smirked as you rolled your eyes. Before you could say anything, his stomach let out a loud growl making you laugh and look around, spotting a burger joint.
“Let’s get you a taste of that big boy.”
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“Sometimes I wonder-” You stared out of the window at the large clouds rolling in. “-considering our parents are best friends and we are not, do you think our children would be good friends or enemies?”
“Wow, children.” Seungcheol munched on his burger furiously. “I never thought that far.”
“Then think about it now.”
“I don’t know.” He hummed. He hated thinking when he was tipsy. “Siblings tend to have a love-hate relationship.”
“I was talking about our children Seungcheol.”
“So was I.”
“No, I mean, my own children and your own children.”
“Yeah, same thing.”
You looked at him exasperatedly.
“Let’s be honest here Y/n. Who else out there can put up with us for long enough to start a family?”
“We can barely put up with each other-”
“But we have, for almost 25 years.” He slurped on his drink. “There’s a reason why you have never been in a relationship and I have never been in one that lasts. Because whatever it is we share, it’s you and I, till the end.”
“Till the end.” You muttered, reaching for his burger, taking a bite from it. Judging by your expression, Seungcheol could tell you liked his better, like you always do. That’s why he made sure to get it without the tomatoes he usually loved and settled to eat your meal instead. He was just about to ask why exactly you were so lost in thought when a loud thunder boomed across the sky sending a shiver running down Seungcheol’s spine.
Shoving the last of the burger down your throat quickly washing it down with some soda, you began gathering your things.
“We should go before the rain starts.”
Seungcheol nodded, finishing up his meal as you threw the trash in the nearby can. As the two of you left, muttering your thank yous to the waitresses, you laced your fingers with Seungcheol’s, gripping him tight as another lightning flashed across the sky. Thank God it wasn’t too hard to flag down a cab because the moment the two of you sat inside, rain began pouring like there was no tomorrow. As you glanced at the obscurity outside the window, Seungcheol stared at his hand, the one that you hadn’t left in all this time.
There were times when he used to stay over in your room, unable to sleep due to all the thundering while you dozed away oblivious to his presence. Those days, you’d turn around, reaching for his hand, holding it in your sleep. Seungcheol now wondered if that might have been a conscious effort to comfort him.
Perhaps not he thought as you began to nonchalantly hum his favourite song. He wondered if you knew he loved that piece because of how beautiful you looked when you danced to it. He wondered if you knew that the reason he was always around you was to make sure you were alright. He wondered if you knew he always carried an extra inhaler for you, that he had written a long list of your allergies in order from ‘can handle’ to ‘keep away from at all times’, that he was constantly alert about everything you ate, smelt and touched. He wondered if you knew, deep down how much he cared about you…..but sleep dragged him away before he could wonder anymore.
Sensing Seungcheol had fallen asleep, you stopped humming, turning to him, smiling at his half open mouth. Scooting closer, you slowly pulled his head to rest against your shoulder, and he groaned softly, nuzzling into it. The driver looked at the two of you through the rear-view mirror, making your cheeks go red as you looked away.
“Is your boyfriend afraid of thunderstorms?”
You nodded, ignoring the title. “Since he was a child. I don’t think he’s been sleeping too well the last few days.”
“The forecast shows it’s going to be worse today.” The driver sighed. “Look out for him.”
You nodded again. You did look out for him. In your own ways you always did - you always challenged him knowing that was what pushed him to do better. You always made sure to wake him up or at least meddle with his clocks so he was always on time. You always made sure he ate and slept enough, knowing how it threw him off whenever he was deprived of either. Even now you were humming his favourite song knowing it calmed him down. You wondered if Seungcheol knew, that deep down you really cared about him…..perhaps more than anything.
When the taxi reached the lodge, you softly shook him awake after paying, dragging his sleepy self through the lobby. The receptionist's eyes followed the two of you, stumbling away hand in hand, mouth curling into a small smile as you disappeared. You only let his hand go when you reached the room and that’s what jolted him awake.
The silence that descended the room today was different. It wasn’t because the two of you were too tired to say anything to each other, rather neither of you knew what exactly to say given there was so much to. So instead, you resorted to washing up and filling in your journal for the day while Seungcheol worked on a few changes in the proposal for the final pitch tomorrow. Just as he shut the laptop and you shut your diary, the two of you looked at each other before quickly looking away, settling in your own beds, for the night.
You were almost ready to drift off to sleep, before the driver’s words rang in your mind - the forecast shows it’s going to be worse today. Without thinking much, you moved your things from bed 6 to bed 5, muttering that the light from the streetlamps was falling in your face there. Seungcheol did not point out that you could just close the curtains instead and curled up in his own bed, glad you were closer to him now.
He looked at you across the one bed that was in between and suddenly you felt too far, like the distance was too much.
You looked at him as his eyes fluttered shut, thunder rumbling across the sky, wondering if he could hear you across all this space, humming louder than usual, lulling the two of you to sleep.
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When you woke up, Seungcheol was surprisingly awake and fully dressed, trying to knot his tie unsuccessfully in front of the mirror, expression focused with a small pout. Propping yourself up on your elbow, you stared at his reflection, eyes skimming over the beautiful features of his face which you never really consciously admired - his thick hair, thicker eyebrows, plump, pillowy lips, his jawline sharp and chiselled. He was indeed handsome, in a way you really liked….a lot.
You wondered why you always looked at him like he was the bane of your existence. Was it because it was easier to bury the unresolved tension under pointless banter? Or did you wantonly show him your worst side, hoping it wouldn’t scare him away, hoping he would stay despite every flaw, every shortcoming. What did it mean if in 25 years, he didn’t leave even once?
Seungcheol groaned, annoyed at his futile attempts, eyes finally meeting yours in the mirror. You slid off your bed, walking up to him as he turned to you. Yawning, you took his tie in your hands, tying it for him. Seungcheol’s eyes drifted over the features of your face as he held his breath.
He could get used to this, the sight of waking up to a sleepy you, your hair all over the place, your eyes slightly droopy, nose red. God you were so beautiful - he knew that, but why didn’t he ever think about it? Why did he choose to fight every remote thought about you with irritating banter? Was he scared that the tension would remain unresolved? And what did it mean if you were still here, right by his side, helping him out in everything big and small, always making sure he was going the right way and doing the right thing, every single day for the last 25 years?
You pushed the knot up to his neck, smoothening the material, patting his chest with a proud smile. Seungcheol gulped as you walked away to wash up, trying to get his breath under control.
When the two of you came down for breakfast, you pointedly avoided the receptionist's gaze. There was no time to deal with more thoughts.
The rest of the day went like that, thoughtlessly. It was a little awkward at the conference considering the little show you two put up last night, so the moment it ended for good in the evening, you bid everyone goodbye, citing you had an early flight and had to leave soon. It was true though, you did have to travel in the wee hours of the morning, but leaving from the conference so soon also meant having to spend longer with Seungcheol, all alone. He agreed with you though, stating his social battery was at an all-time low and that he just wanted to go back.
Today the two of you were somehow sitting on two ends of the car backseat, bodies pressing against the door, in complete contrast to last night. It was a silent ride, a silent walk to the room and a silent session of packing up. Suddenly there were very conscious efforts to not brush hands, or accidentally walk into each other or catch the other person randomly staring, lost in thought. It was only when you were finally done that you asked Seungcheol if he wanted to order dinner. He agreed, leading to a very small and very efficient discussion about what dishes to eat and then silence descended upon the room again. While waiting for the food to arrive, Seungcheol muttered that he was going for a quick run, leaving you alone with the thoughts you could no longer stop from plaguing your mind.
Something had changed over the last 3 days. It wasn’t you or Seungcheol - he was still throwing his damp towels on dry clothes and you were still meddling with his clocks. No, the two of you hadn’t changed. Neither did the arguing, neither did the banter, neither did the subtle flirting, neither did the silent support. No…. nothing had changed. It was all the same. It was all the exact same except now, you were finally willing to acknowledge something you hadn’t even admitted to yourself since the age of five, that-
“I’m in love with him.” You whispered, smiling to yourself.
Seungcheol on the other hand thought running around the lodge would mean those thoughts wouldn’t run in his mind anymore. He was wrong - even though you were not there, like always you were on his mind, in his every thought, in his every breath. Seungcheol didn’t know of a life without you. He also knew that you would be there with him for the rest of his life but for the first time in 25 years, he finally found himself owning up to it - that he truly wanted you be a part of his future, that he could not bear to think of one without you in it, that-
“I’m in love with her.” He whispered, smiling to himself.
By the time Seungcheol had returned, dinner had arrived. Between each bite you searched for the right words to say, noticing that Seungcheol was trying the same. Somehow, neither of you could bring yourself to say anything.
You couldn’t peacefully finish up your journal and Seungcheol couldn’t take a relaxing shower, both muttering under your breaths, practicing long speeches, determined to confess everything before sleeping tonight.
But when all was done for the night, both of you laid down on your respective beds, staring at the ceiling, unable to talk, unable to sleep.
Seungcheol turned his head as you did towards him, making his heart clench a little.
Sighing, he grabbed his pillow and put it on bed 4, lying down, facing you.
You looked at him blinking slowly.
Seungcheol held his breath.
Taking a deep breath, you grabbed your duvet and joined him on the fourth bed, throwing it over the two of you, lying down, facing him.
Seungcheol slid his hand over your waist, pulling you closer.
You gripped the material of his shirt, snuggling into the warmth of his neck.
Nothing was said that night.
Nothing had to be said as the two of you drifted off to sleep.
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It was the harsh morning sun and the annoying chirping of the birds that woke you up.
You stared out of the window surprised at the bright light given the last few days were as gloomy as it could be. Seungcheol’s soft breaths tickled your shoulder as his arms held you tight, your back against his chest. Smiling you wiggled in his grip turning towards him, taking in how much more stunning he looked in the morning light-
Morning?
“Cheol.”
He hummed softly.
“Cheol!”
“What?”
“It’s bright outside.”
“That’s how mornings are Y/n.”
“Oh thank you for enlightening me.” You rolled your eyes. “Might I return the favour by reminding you that we had a flight at 5am?”
Seungcheol’s eyes flew open.
He quickly grabbed his phone from the nightstand, 11am flashing on the screen.
“Fuck.” He muttered, running his hand through his hair. “Fuck fuck fuck, I can’t believe we missed the flight!”
You took the phone from him and scrolled through the app. “The next flight out is tomorrow morning, same time, 5am.”
“But the company hasn’t paid for the room tonight, where will we stay?” Seungcheol groaned. “How could you not wake me up?”
You frowned at him. “And why is it my job to?”
“Because, you don’t like it when I put alarms on my phone.”
“Uh no, I don’t like it when you continue to sleep through the dozen alarms you put on your phone.”
“Whatever your reasons are, I think its been established that you are the one who's supposed to wake us both up.”
“Yeah well thanks to you I forgot to set an alarm.”
“Thanks to me?” He looked at you bewildered. “What did I do?”
“Who asked you to..” You pointed at everything around with the wave of a hand, the two of you only just registering the situation you were in.
“You were the one who came to my bed.” Seungcheol shrugged. “This is on you because you were desperate.”
“Says the one who’s boner poking into my back woke me up.”
Seungcheol gawked at you, stuttering. “M-morning wood is a scientific phenomenon, okay? I can’t help it-”
“I could have.” You muttered, slipping out of the bed.
Seungcheol pulled you back under him, half hovering over you.
“Oh yeah?” He bit his lower lip with a small smile. “How exactly?”
You hummed, “I happen to know some good meditation techniques-”, running a finger down his abdomen, tracing a random design.
Seungcheol grabbed your hand and pinned it to the mattress by your face, leaning close.
“Think of a better way, baby.”
The nickname sent a delightful chill down your spine as you slightly squirmed under him, smiling.
“How about I get you some ice-”
“That’s not what I want right now.”
“Then what do you want right now?”
His eyes ran along the features of your face.
“I want to kiss you.” He whispered. “So bad.”
“And what are you waiting for?”
Seungcheol groaned, immediately pressing his lips onto yours, needy and ravenous, like he had been waiting eons for this. Well, so had you.
Pushing him off you and onto his back, you straddled his hips, kissing him again, rolling your tongue over his. Seungcheol moaned into your mouth, one hand wrapping around your waist, the other holding you by the nape of your neck, taking back control. When you ran your hand over his thick pecs, he pulled away with a dreamy sigh, planting a trail of kisses along your jaw, down your throat.
“Strip for me.”
Sitting up immediately, you lifted your hips a little letting Seungcheol push the material of your nightdress up your thighs and you pulled it over your head, tossing it somewhere. In the ten seconds it took you to do that, Seungcheol was a changed man. The old him wanted to take his time unravelling you slowly, pushing you to the edge but the new Seungcheol felt the animal in him come alive with a throbbing, insatiable desire. It became exponentially worse when you pulled your hair up, tying it with the hair tie on your wrist, baring your neck, perfect breasts, soft stomach….unable to reign it in anymore, Seungcheol lunged forward, hungrily sucking a tit into his mouth, making you lose your balance over him a little, grabbing his bicep half laughing.
“Huh, I really thought you were more of an ass guy.”
Seungcheol let go with a wet pop, looking up at you from between his thick lashes. Oh wasn’t that a sight.
“For you, I’m an everything guy.” His hands gripped your ass hard. “Your derriere does take the cake though.”
You laughed, “Who even uses that word?”
“I don’t know, I have no idea what is coming out of my mouth right now.” He confessed, his tongue running up the gap between your boobs, the sweet and salty taste of your skin driving him insane. “I just know what I want in it.”
“Yeah?” You sighed, threading your fingers through his hair, pulling him back with a harsh grip, before he latched onto your other tit. “I have better things to put in it.”
Seungcheol grinned like he couldn’t wait, flashing his canines, biting his lower lip.
God he was going to be the end of you.
But you’ll beat him to it.
Palms planted behind you, you slid yourself back off his thighs and sat between his legs, lifting your own up for him. Seungcheol’s eyes darkened in an instant and the moment he saw the wet spot in the middle of your pink panties, he could not hold himself back anymore. With a swift movement he was up on his knees before you, hooking his fingers in the elastic by your waist and slowly dragging your underwear along your legs. Like a man starving he crumpled it in his hand, breathing it deeply, eyes fluttering shut like he was intoxicated by your scent.
“I’m going to be borrowing this, for whenever you’re not there.”
“Pervert.” You whispered as he tucked it in the back pocket of his tracks. “But I’m never not going to be there. I’m afraid you’re stuck for life now.”
Seungcheol fisted the material at the back of his neck and pulled it over his head, flinging it somewhere before he put his hands between your knees and spread your legs apart, groaning at the sight before him. You were quite literally hiding his paradise between your legs.
“Trust me,” He reached for a pillow behind him, throwing it to you. “I want to be stuck here.”
The moment you tucked it under your head lying back, Seungcheol wasted no time in crawling between your legs, tossing them over his shoulder, descending on your sex. You felt your back arch off the mattress as he devoured, his tongue, mouth, lips all showing you stars in daytime.
“Fuck Cheol.” You whimpered as his tongue slipped into your hole, his moan sending a wild vibration against it. Bringing your hands to his head, your fingers gripped his hair, pushing your hips up against him “Give me more.”
Seungcheol smirked, pressing your hips down, continuing his ministrations in a way that made your toes curl. Damn he knew what he was doing. For a split second you wondered how he knew so much and an ugly jealousy began coursing through you but it was lost almost immediately, when he began to suck on your clit.
“Cheol….” You moaned, the sudden stimulation too intense for you, a tightness growing deep inside. “F-fuck that’s good.”
Seungcheol knew he was good. Not because he was experienced, not exactly - more because he was desperate to taste every inch of you. If he thought the taste of your arousal was heavenly, the moment your legs trembled and your breaths got harsher and you came against his mouth, Seungcheol knew he’d cast aside the heavens for it. This wasn’t enough.
This was probably the fastest orgasm you ever had, waves of the buzz washing over as your jaw fell slack. You rode it out against his mouth, tense shivers running down your body as his nose grazed your clit before falling limp into the softness of the bed, chest heaving.
Seungcheol was so noisily devoted to making you fall apart on his tongue, he wasn't sure if you didn't moan his name or if he was too entranced to hear it. Either way, he had to go again, keeping in mind to put his eyes on you this time. When he looked up at you, your face was flushed, lips curled into a blissful smile and Seungcheol thought he fell more in love with you, if that was even possible.
“We're gonna have to talk about why you're so good at that.” You half laughed, trying to sit up. Seungcheol pushed you back down, throwing another pillow at you, humming.
“How good was I exactly?”
“Nice try big boy,” You stacked the pillow over the previous one, leaning back against it. “I'm not going to feed your ego.”
“I'll feed myself then.” He smirked before licking a long strip between your folds making you tremble with over stimulation.
“Cheol not yet-”
“If I don't hear you I'm not going to stop.”
And he descended upon you like a mad man again, making you gasp in surprise. You did not think he'd go through with it.
“Cheol I really can't-”
but Seungcheol did not stop.
When he didn’t listen, you reached to pull him off you but Seungcheol was quicker as he grabbed both your wrists in a flash and held them against your heaving chest, continuing to eat the life out of you.
“Seungcheol please.” You couldn’t even squirm if you tried to, held down hard by his brute strength. “I really can’t-”
He looked up, his mouth wet with his spit and your arousal as he licked his lips. Fuck you really loved this man.
“Do you actually want me to stop?”
He was taunting you but there's a slight concern laced in his voice.
You shook your head slowly.
“I thought so.” He chuckled before continuing his act of wolfing down on you.
Your second orgasm began to rush in with an unreal speed and you don't know how Seungcheol could read your body so well already but the little bitch backed out before you could cum again.
“Cheol…”
You whined, frustrated at the feeling ebbing away, desperately clenching to hold on to it.
“I said I wanted to hear you.”
You glared at him, not used to him having the upper hand. He knew he's got you under control when he finally loosened his bruising grip on your thigh to sit up and you opened your mouth on your own accord to let him slip his fingers into them.
“What a pretty little girl.” He sighed as you sucked on his digits. “My pretty girl.”
“Yes yours.” You moaned, as he pulled them out of your mouth and pushed them into his, wetting them more as you practically panted below him.
“I'll do what you want, just put them in me Cheol.”
“You're quite demanding baby.” He leaned over you looking amused. “I hope you deliver as well as you talk.”
“I'll suck the life out of your dick after this I swear, just let me cum again.”
Enticed by the idea, Seungcheol captured your mouth in another one of his messy kisses, his fingers slowly slipping into your heat. You gasped into his mouth, surprised by how thick his fingers were. Oh his dick would probably make you pass out and god were you ready for it.
“Say my name baby.” Seungcheol pressed his forehead against yours, still holding your wrists between both your bodies with his other hand. “Tell me who's making you feel so good.”
“You.” You moaned as he pumped his fingers, slowly stretching you open, your arousal dripping down between your thighs. “Fuck Cheol, faster.”
He obeyed, picking up the pace as you babbled a string of curses, legs squeezing his hand desperate to feel more. Seungcheol sucked on your neck, enjoying the way you were crumbling apart for him. How was he ever going to be away from you after this?
“Oh god yes.” You sighed, as his fingers curled hitting the spot, eyes rolling back. Seungcheol looked at you in awe.
“I apologise if I ever told you that it was annoying when you rolled your eyes.” He continued to push you over. “That was the hottest thing I've ever seen.”
“Yes yes yes.” You chanted not hearing him, too lost in your own pleasure building. Pleased with himself, Seungcheol finally put his thumb over your clit and that was all it took for you to cum all over his fingers with yet another silent scream.
Seungcheol let your hands go and sat back on his heels, admiring his artwork. Your chest heaved erratically like you had forgotten how to breathe, squeezing your tits, hands desperate to claw something. Hair sticking to your forehead, sweat running down your neck next to the bruises he marked, you were a vision to behold.
Seungcheol sucked his fingers clean, relishing the taste of you yet again. You stared at him wide eyed, curious.
“Have you never tasted yourself?”
You shook your head.
“Oh sweetheart.”
Seungcheol pushed his tracks down just a bit, enough to pull his dick out. It's not the longest you've seen but God was it thick, a stark vein running down the length which looked painfully hard. The thought of having him fill your mouth and choking around it literally made you drool.
He pumped it a few times before hooking his hands under your thighs and pulling you towards him with unsurprising ease. You scrambled to raise yourself up on your elbows, watching as he ran it up and down your slit, gathering your release on it.
“Come taste.”
You blinked at the man holding out his dick to you like it was a treat, like he expected you to crawl to him, stunned at just how cocky he had gotten in 20 minutes. Hell no.
You shook your head, tilting it in challenge.
“Come fuck my mouth.”
If Choi Seungcheol had a fatal flaw it was how much he desired control but right now, there was nothing he desired and craved more than you.
Moving over not so gracefully he aligned himself by your mouth, knees planted on either sides of your waist, looming over you.
You immediately wrapped your lips around his tip, humming at the weight on your tongue as he pushed your hair off your face softly.
“I know baby, you taste fucking divine.”
Giving him a half nod, running your tongue over his slit before hollowing your cheeks around him. The mix of your and his arousal indeed tasted….right, like they belonged together.
You tried to take in more of him but you might have underestimated his girth and overestimated your ability. Pulling back with a pop, you licked your lips.
“You're too thick.” Mumbling you tried to push him off you, onto his back. “Let me move over-”
“Oh no no.” Seungcheol clicked his tongue, grabbing the back of you neck, forcing you to look up at him. “It can't be that bad, someone claimed they could stack fruit loops on it.”
You rolled your eyes realising he was a bit too proud of himself. “I still can. I just don't have the cereal to prove it.”
“I'll buy some on the way back and when we go home that's the first thing you're going to do.” He wiped the spit leaking around the corner of your mouth with his free hand. “And if you don't manage to prove your point, that's grounds for punishment.”
You grinned at him.
“Oh you like that.” He hummed, guiding your head back to his cock. “We'll see how much of it you can take baby.”
A lot apparently.
Seungcheol should have known. You were like him - you didn't like to be challenged. That's why the moment he thrusted himself into your mouth, you held onto the back of his thighs with both hands, pushing it in a lot more than Seungcheol had thought you were capable of. Throwing his head back with a satisfied moan, he began moving his hips ever so little, slowly fucking your face, but you had other ideas, taking him as far back as you could, your throat constricting around his dick.
“Alright that's it.” Seungcheol pulled you off him, staring at your confused face. Somehow you had no gag reflex and Seungcheol suddenly had the endurance of a teenager. “Want to actually fuck you.”
He muttered drawing back, kicking off the remaining of his clothes and sitting up, trying to hide his breathlessness.
“Aw Cheol, was I right again?” You laughed, getting up and clambering onto his lap. “Is ten minutes really enough for you?”
“You'll see.” He pulled you into a deep kiss before abruptly breaking away, leaving you confused yet again. “Or not.”
“What?”
“I just realised… I don't have a condom.”
You waited for him to tell you he was kidding but he looked serious.
“Cheol….” He looked at you apologetically. “Ugh Choi Seungcheol, why not?!”
“One, don't call me that and two, I don't know, maybe because this was a work trip and the conference dress code didn't mention dick envelopes.”
You sighed annoyed. “I just always thought you'd carry one on you, xl sized.” You shot his overconfidence down before it even grew on him. “you know, for your head.”
“Oh because I'm a dick?” He rolled his eyes at the comment you had used on him too many times already. “Well, wouldn't that make you a little slut? Since you’ve been in love with me for so many years.”
“Who said I was in love with you?”
Seungcheol looked at you with the biggest, fucking cutest eyes. “Are you not?”
You smiled, surprisingly shy despite all that transpired so far. Honestly, you didn't have to answer that question. What you felt for each other was clear as day.
Putting a finger on his mouth, you whispered. “Less talking, more fucking please.”
Seungcheol groaned. “What do you want me to do? Go buy them now?”
“No…” You hated the thought of him leaving.
“Or…. I could pull out?”
“The last thing I trust in this world is your timing.” You laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Besides, don't you want to be inside me when you cum? Squeezing you tight? Milking you dry?”
“Kinky.” Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, secretly delighted. “And shoot me if I ever say no to that, but you're not on birth control are you?”
“No…” You drawled. “But I can get plan b?”
“Baby, you realize how reckless this is-”
“I know.”
“-we've barely just-”
“I'm aware.”
“-plus your health-”
“Choi Seungcheol.” You pushed him back into the bed, annoyed. “Are you gonna fuck me or not? Because if you don't then I'm gonna do it myself and all you get is to watch-”
Seungcheol, tucked his arm under his head, looking like he liked that idea a little too much.
“-while I cum taking someone else's name.”
His eyes darkened as his hand wrapped around your throat, pulling you down to his eye level, “Try me sweetheart.”
“You know how I feel about challenges.”
“And you know how I feel about sharing what’s mine.”
“Then fuck me like I’m yours.”
Seungcheol smiled, dropping a soft kiss on your mouth, much in contrast to what followed. “Remember, you asked for this.”
One arm wrapped around your waist, he flipped you over, putting you below him once again, the hunger in his eyes burning a lot more now. As he shifted to push your legs apart, hand leaving your neck, a soft whine left you and Seungcheol caught it immediately.
“You’re into that too?” Seungcheol smirked as you frowned at him, annoyed.
“Apparently. I just found out as well.”
“I wonder what else you’re into.”
“You can wonder all you want, after you put that dick into me.”
Seungcheol clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “I don’t like how you think I’d listen.”
Yet before you could talk back, he slid his cock along your folds, the tip slightly dipping into your hole, pulling out the most exquisite moan from you.
“Now that’s something I’d listen to.” He pushed himself a little further, your hands immediately coming to grip his biceps, gasping again at just how big he was. Seungcheol had been dying to listen to you sound like this and god was it so worth it.
You attempted to relax, adjusting around his girth as he eased himself in, but gave up even trying to maintain the facade of composure when he bottomed out, pressing all the way in.
“Fuck yes Cheol.”
He hissed softly, feeling your soft walls flutter around him. He had never fucked anyone raw and after this, how was he expected to just not spend his whole life buried in you?
“Please, move.” You begged, and he folded immediately, his hips slowly picking up pace as he kissed you along your neck.
“We should have done this years ago.” He groaned, wrapping your legs around his hips, pounding faster, harder. “We should have been doing this for years now.”
You nodded half listening, half submerged in your pleasure, nails running down his back. “Let’s just never get out of this bed.”
Seungcheol chuckled, absolutely agreeing with that idea, snapping his hips faster, delighted by the way you were reacting under him.
He wanted to flip you around and take you from the back, mark your ass with the red prints of his hand. He wanted you sitting on him, fucking yourself on his dick while he watched, your head thrown back in pleasure. He wanted to eat you out till you cried, fuck your throat and make you swallow, pull every moan and every whine and ever chant of his name out of you. God he wanted so much but Seungcheol wasn't capable of any of those right now - he had been hard for almost an hour now and your grip around him was like a vice.
“Seungcheol more.” You whined, despite him already railing into you like there was no tomorrow. He still listened though, sliding his hand down between your bodies and finding you clit, well aware that you would probably go unbelievably tight the moment he touched it, rendering him absolutely helpless. Sure enough, you keened, clamping down on him hard the moment he began rubbing circles, a string of curses leaving your mouth.
“Cum for me.” He whispered, hips rutting against yours harshly, holding his own release back desperately. “Cum all over me.”
And you did, the pleasure washing over you in waves, legs tightening around him before they finally went slack, exhausted. Seungcheol pulled them off him, gripping your thighs instead, shifting from an erratic rhythm to quick, deep strokes as he finally came inside you, collapsing on top.
He was careful enough not to crush you under his weight, holding himself up a little so you could regain your breath, watching your eyes flutter tiredly.
“We need to get you cleaned up.” He tucked your hair behind your ear, glancing at your mixed arousals dripping out of you. “I don’t know how long the statute of limitations for ejaculate is….”
For the first time in your life, Choi Seungcheol had managed to turn you dumb, as you nodded mindlessly, not having registered the stupidity that just came out of him.
He chuckled, rolling off you, but you dragged him back by the wrist, wrapping your arms around him.
“Hold me.”
And as though the universe hated you, a sharp knock on the door made you two jump apart. Seungcheol still proceeded to hold you but the knocking only repeated, louder this time. He huffed annoyed, sliding off the bed, grabbing his shirt from the floor and threw it on. Opening the door just a little, half hiding behind it, lower half specifically, he peaked out but his plan was foiled when the receptionist pushed the door fully open and came barging in, throwing her hands around.
“Check out time was 12! You’re late-”
She froze as Seuncheol quickly covered himself with a towel from nearby and you scrambled in a hurry, hiding under the sheets, squirming in embarrassment.
The old woman slowly, still shocked to the core, muttered an apology and walked out of the room as Seungcheol smacked his head against the wall, regretting not wearing his pants.
“You…” She cleared her throat from the other side of the door. “You have till 2. Get it together and get out of my lodge.” She then walked away, the sound of her footsteps fading, before they suddenly got louder again. “I would also like to add that I knew this was going to happen from the moment you two stepped foot in here!”
You covered your face trying not to pass out from the embarrassment as Seungcheol locked the door laughing.
"Why does she sound so happy?"
“I cannot believe she saw us." You groaned. "Who walks in like that-”
“Who cares?” Seungcheol walked over to you. “I cannot believe we still have two more hours.”
“You’re not even ready to go again.” You looked pointedly at the softened dick in his hand that he was pumping lazily. “Besides, we're going to have to book the room again, for tonight.”
“2 hours isn’t enough for you? Oh baby-”
“Our flight is at 5am tomorrow you idiot, we still need a place for the night.”
“Right.” Seungcheol recalled, “I forgot we had to go… that this had to come to an end.”
“Nothing’s ending.” You clarified, putting a rest to his worries. “Didn’t you say, you and I, till the end?”
Seungcheol nodded as you held your hand out to him. He walked over taking it, dropping a soft kiss on your knuckles.
“Say.” And you knew an unholy thought was brewing in that head of his. “We have all this time and there are seven beds here.”
“I don’t care how many there are.” You laughed, pulling him into the softness of the sheets. “I only want one to share with you.”
A/n - this was supposed to be out a few hours ago but tumblr was being a bitch to me. Im adding the tags in the comments! Reblogs with tags, comments and asks are much appreciated, thank you for reading :)
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siriuslylantsov · 21 days ago
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juno
pairing: spencer reid x college!reader
description: in which spencer gets a little worked up when the two of you dance so when you get home a few hours later, you make it up to him.
tags: MDNI! smut, fluff, alcohol consumption, established relationship, tiny age gap (reader is 23 and spencer is 27), fem!reader, softdom!spencer but also a little sub, switch!reader, spencer gets a boner at a party lol, nipple stuff, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected pinv, brief finger sucking, dirty talk (gasp), praise kink, munch!spencer (my fav), nicknames used (angel, baby, sweet girl, etc.), little bit of overstim, reader isnt inebriated during it (hazy initially) but she sobers up quick, lmk if im missing anything.
a/n: to add on to the influx of sabrina carpenter song inspired fics, here is juno. i went through a rigorous process of deciding which spencer era i wanted for this and settled on s4 spence. my first smut, this was awful and fucking exhausting to write, idk how you smut writers do it but we got through it. hope you like it...
wc: 4.2k
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the room is dimly lit, candles scattered on every flat surface– this is a fire hazard, calm down spence. there's a steady buzz of conversation that passes through the room, just enough people that it isn't overcrowded nor is it too sparse, it’s a stark contrast to the other parties—loud, sweaty and cramped—that have been springing up as the semester draws to a close. the pros of having an invite-only party, you think. 
the dress code, though not formally stated, is dark and moody. god knows what that means–just wear something black and make sure it's sexy. so there you are, in a mini skirt, an off shoulder black top with sleeves that end at your knuckles, knee high boots, and a pair of sheer tights. 
spencers in a black button up and matching dress pants. he looks good, really fucking good. his hair slicked back in a way you can only describe as prince charming and eyes somehow sparkling in the low light. you have to kiss him. you peck his jaw in admiration and he shoots you a puzzled but sweet smile. 
your arm is tucked snuggly in your boyfriend’s as you talk to a guy from one of your classes. spencer knows your crowd, so you don't feel too bad when you leave him to go help the host, your friend vanessa, in the kitchen. she's mixing drinks when you get to her.
“good turn out huh?” she says, handing you a bottle to open.
“oh yeah, ness, definitely. one of my favourites so far, too,” you commend, unscrewing the top and giving it back to her.
she pours the contents into a pitcher, “thanks.” 
“but you know… what could make it better…” your tone nothing short of subtle, your eyes glinting with persuasion.
she lets out a huff. “you spend an hour without normal music and you're suffering,” she teases you all while expertly pouring margaritas into red cups.
“hey! i love your-” you pause, trying to find the right words, “nondescript jazz but.. i love sabrina carpenter a bit more.” 
you throw her your best puppy dog eyes and she concedes. “fine. my phone is on the table. you can play whatever you want if,” she bargains, holding out a tray of drinks, “you take these.” you squeal and accept her offer.
“you're a darling,” you call out from over your shoulder as you walk away.
“uh-huh,” she says sarcastically, a small chuckle escaping her lips. “don't spill!”
you put the tray down on the coffee table upon your return, grabbing vanessa's phone before settling next to spencer, who is now on the couch. the guy from your class is gone. you frantically scroll through the playlist, adding things to the queue. spencer puts his arm over your shoulders as he peers over at the screen. he's used to your antics, so he doesnt question the fact that it isn't even your phone, humming in approval when you add a song that he likes. the music starts playing at a comfortable volume from the speakers and you lean into spencer's side, quietly murmuring along, “all i can do is try, give me one chance…”
at some point, a makeshift dance floor forms. clusters of people belting the lyrics, and swaying to the rhythm. you join them, always down for an impromptu dance sesh–or at least that's what the cup in your hand suggests. spencer watches you intently from the couch, eyebrows raised in amusement as you wave your hands around expressively with the words. he loves when you sing. his eyes trace the way your skirt hugs your hips, and how your hips, in turn, move in sync with the beat. he’s mesmerised by you. 
a few songs in, a sheen of sweat glistens on your skin. there’s no doubt you’re a dancing drunk. as if on cue—well, it was—'juno' starts playing, and you scan the room for spencer. you spot him in the corner, serving food onto his plate.
you rush over to him, recalling how he validated the song choice earlier. you’d played it to him for the first time a few weeks ago and he went on to explain how in roman mythology, juno is the queen of the gods and the goddess of marriage and children, similar to hera in greek mythology, and consequently, you told him about the 2007 film ‘juno’ and promised you'd introduce him to the world of michael cera, and that his life will forever be changed, when he said he hadn't seen it.
“mmph what?” he grumbles, a mouthful of egg roll muffling his words, as you pull him by the arm. you take the plate from his hand, putting it down on the coffee table and leading him into the crowd. 
you hold onto both his hands and move them between you two as you sing. 
“give it to me baby, you make me wanna make you fall in love.”
he smiles, trying to follow your movements and failing. you giggle at his attempts. 
“can't help myself hormones are high.”
you turn around and wrap his arms around your waist, your back to his chest. you try to lead him this way and he seems to catch on, moving his hips with you, it's a little stiff but it's a happy medium.
“oh late at night i’m thinkin’ ‘bout you, ah. wanna try out some freaky positions?” 
you aren't trying to drive him crazy, but the alcohol is. “have you ever tried this one?” you glance behind at him when you say this, pushing your ass back against his crotch, the feeling not lost between the layers of fabric.
you feel him tense behind you, but you don’t think much of it, assuming he felt awkward about dancing in front of people. you spin around in his arms, smiling happily, with not a hint of malice in your eyes. you’re not even teasing him—just giving in to an incorrigible need to perform, fucking theatre kids. 
he tries to play it cool but then the bridge arrives, and god save him.
“adore me,” you guide his hands to your hips. “hold me and explore me,” you lead them slowly up your body, gliding over your ribs, “mark your territory,” you press his hands firmly into your sides. you let go and loop your hands around his neck, rolling your shoulders, “tell me i'm the only, only, only, only one.”
you trail your hands down his chest as the verse repeats. you go lower till you drop to your knees in front of him, and he thinks he might die. 
“i’m so fucking horny,” no youre not, “tell me i'm the only, only, only, only one,” you are, everything.
you spring back up on your feet and start jumping, guiding him to dance with you or something to that degree. frankly, he's disoriented, your mood gone as quick as it arrived, as he tries to keep up. when, in fact, everything you just did went straight between his legs. a nervous flush spreads across his face as he feels the growing tightness in his pants, and you, oblivious to the effect you had on him–but only because you were drunk you swear– nudge his nose with yours in an attempt to calm him down. he gives you a tight lipped smile, classic spencer, and excuses himself to the bathroom, to splash water on his face or to jerk off, he doesn't know.
the party comes to a screeching halt an hour later when someone throws up on vanessa's couch and she kicks everyone out, swearing that she's never hosting at her place ever again.
you're a giggling fit as you walk down the, fairly empty, street. spencer follows close behind, a small smile playing on his face as he watches you spin. his coat hangs loosely on your shoulders–his coat and not yours because you insisted you wouldn't need one, but when the breeze hit your legs, you were sorely mistaken. he catches up with you and laces your hands together, your head lands on his shoulder now that you're all tuckered out.
after a quick subway ride the two of you make it to his apartment, having previously agreed that you'd spend the night there since you don't have any classes tomorrow. he slowly leads a tipsy you up the stairs and unlocks his door, letting you in. 
you let his coat drop to the floor as he leads you to his room, he sits you at the edge of the bed before crouching down to unzip your boots and take them off. he pulls at the waistband of your skirt, asking.
“spencer walter reid, are you trying to get in my pants?” you ask quietly, the tiredness in your voice evident as you try to tease him.
“yes,” he says with a mock seriousness that makes you laugh a little. “lift your hips angel.”
you oblige and he pulls your skirt and tights off in one go, stretching comically as the long piece of fabric peels away, in a way that only his long limbs would allow. he leans down and kisses up your shin to your knee, doing the same to your other leg, murmuring a “perfect girl,” into your skin before standing up. he makes you blush, always does. 
he walks over to his dresser to grab the pair of pyjamas you left at his place the last time you were over. he comes back with your shorts, but instead of the matching piece, he’s holding one of his t-shirts. 
“arms up please” he requests and you do, he slips your top off and offers you his hand so you can stand. 
you feel a little exposed, clad in only your bra and underwear, though he's seen you in less on multiple occasions. he bends to help you put on the bottoms. “i can dress myself, y'know?” you say, in spite of the fact that you're holding onto his shoulders as you step into the shorts. he only hums as he slides them up, tying the strings into a bow. he reaches behind you to undo the clasp, letting your bra fall. he shamelessly looks at your tits before he puts the shirt on. you shake your head minutely, amused. 
“come on,” he nudges you toward the bathroom.
you lazily brush your teeth, take your makeup off and flop onto the bed with a dramatic sigh, sinking into the pillows behind you. pillows that have accumulated over time since you started dating spencer, you had insisted a pile was the way to go and he indulged you even though most would end up on the floor in the morning–it's decorative, spence, and comfortable. 
you see spencer changing in your peripheral and sit up. you ogle him as he unbuttons his shirt. he smirks when he notices your eyes on him.
“you enjoying the show?” he probes, eyes squinting slightly.
you bite your lip coyly and nod. “mhm, very much.” you throw your duvet off lightly and step out of bed, crossing over to him. “let me help?” you ask quietly.
he lets go of his shirt and raises his palms up in surrender, letting you do it.
“i mean it's only fair, i showed you mine so you should show me yours,” you say, trailing a finger down his chest to continue unbuttoning. 
his hands find your waist and pull you closer. “oh, is that how it is?”
“afraid so, doctor reid,” you say with a shrug, sneaking your hands under the fabric to push the shirt off his shoulders. you reach down and make work on his belt buckle, trying to fight back a smile because he just makes you so… 
you slide his belt off and unbutton his pants, and sure, you can let him do the rest but what's the fun in that. so for the second time that night you get on your knees, and it hits spencer like a freight train. his breath catches as you pull his pants down. you’re about to get up when you're brought face to face with the very noticeable bulge in his underwear and you freeze.
“spencer,” he pulls you up, a little embarrassed. “you're hard,” you state, looking up at him with a crease in your eyebrow that formed in confusion.
he only sighs in response.
“please tell me that this,” you wave your hand over the clothes that were now on the floor, “didn't get you going.” 
“oh, angel no,” he lets out a low chuckle. “it’s from earlier.”
“earlier?”
“yeah uhm juno…” he says shyly.
you frown “jun- oh.”
“yup”
“oh god. oh god. spence, that's so much worse,” you deflate in realisation.
“why's that worse?”
“that was hours ago,” you say morosely, your frown returning in full force.
he laughs at your concern. “hey, i was fine, i'm a big boy,” he lies through his teeth. he wasn't fine. his trip to the bathroom lasted 15 minutes and consisted of him sitting on the closed toilet to calm down and ended when someone started banging the door for him to come out.  
you pout, feeling bad. “you should've told me.”
“yeah and then what? you would've let me take you over the coffee table,” he reasons but it only makes you flush.
“no, but we could’ve left early.” 
“yeah maybe.”
your head snaps up to meet his, eyes glinting with hope. “i could make it up to you?”
his face softens, “you don't have to do that.”
“yes i do, i want to,” you lay a hand on his cheek and he leans into it.
“you’re tired,” he argues, not wanting to give in, and kisses your wrist.
“no, i'm not,” he looks at you sceptically, “i'm not. i'm actually extremely awake right now,” you defend. “and what's that thing you said? orgasms release oxytocin” you punctuate this by tiptoeing to kiss his jaw, “and uhm.. prolactin,” another but this time on his chin, “and endorphins” on the corner of his mouth, “and, oh, serotonin.” you end with a fleeting kiss on his lips and he smiles against them, gotcha. “all which promote levels of drowsiness and relaxation-” you quote, in a very poor impression of him, making him chuckle and pull you in for another kiss, promptly cutting you off. 
his hands at your waist tug you closer, bringing your hips flush together. the action causes a little bit of friction to his erection and he whimpers into your mouth. you trail your hand down and palm him. he pushes forward into your hand.
“so needy,” you chide, leaning your head back to look at him.
“don't tease,” he whines.
god you love it when he whines, and that's very apparent by the dampness you feel between your legs. “‘m sorry, baby,” you say lightly, leading him back to the bed.
you lay back on the pillows and part your legs so he can settle between them. “come here,” you whisper and he leans forward. you cup his face with your hands and close the distance between your faces. he kisses you back so profoundly, it knocks the wind out of you. you gently bite his bottom lip and the gasp he lets out, allows you to slip your tongue into his mouth.
you feel his hand snake up your shirt, fingers grazing over your ribs, pressing firmly into your sides and you realise, he's mirroring what you did with his hands at the party. his thumb passes over your nipple, barely. you arch your back in response, wanting more.
“so needy,” he repeats.
“shut up,” you mumble, pulling him closer.
he lets out a huff and takes this as his sign to grind his hips into yours. you hum at the feeling, grabbing at his shoulders to keep going but he stops and you whine. 
“you just have too much on, sweet girl,” he apologises, lifting the hem of your–his–shirt. he quickly sheds it and your shorts before returning to his previous position. now both of you are left in your underwear, and you think it's sweet, you don't know why. he resumes his motions, the friction now heightened with one less piece of fabric. 
you're breathless as his lips latch onto your neck, peppering small kisses down the side, pausing briefly to suck a mark into your skin and then moving lower. your collarbone, sternum, down the valley of your breasts. he hooks an arm under you to hold you close while his lips move to your nipple, taking the right one into his mouth and sucking. he softly pinches it between his teeth and you keen, tangling your hand in his hair. he experimentally bites down harder and your grip on his strands tightens, causing him to groan against your chest. he moves over to the neglected one and repeats, making sure you're well attended to. he stays like that till you're squirming.
he starts kissing lower, over your stomach. he hooks a finger in your underwear, you put your hand over his. “i'm supposed to be taking care of you,” you whisper, the moment so intimate you're afraid to speak any louder.
“believe me, you are,” he says, matching your volume, pulling the fabric down and off your legs.
“spencer,” you drag out.
he lays down between your thighs and presses a kiss to the flesh there. “let me do this, please. wanna get you ready.” he implores, eyes big and pleading as they meet yours. when he looks like that, how do you say no. you chew your lip as you pretend to mull it over and he grows impatient, prodding at your thigh. you smile at his fidgeting and give him a curt nod–okay, if you insist.
he dives in without missing a beat, licking a long stripe between your folds. your hips writhe instinctively so he threads an arm under your thigh and over your abdomen to hold you down. 
“oh fuck,” you gasp as his lips attach to you clit, sucking profusely. your hand finds his hair again, in need of something to hold onto, and he doesn't mind the pulling seeing as he starts to dry hump the mattress.
his free hand moves to join his mouth, fingers circling and poking at your entrance. he hums out a question to which you nod feverishly, “yes, please.” 
he inserts both fingers at once, the sudden stretch causing you to jolt, a pained moan slipping out. he pulls away, fingers still inside. 
“okay?” he asks gently, though he knows the answer.
“mhm, spencer keep going,” you breathe out, raising your hips up to make him move.
he raises his eyebrows expectantly. “please,” you add, the desperation laced in your voice not lost on you.
he smiles, pleased, “anything for you angel.”
spencer eats you out like a man starved, greedily, and that paired with his fingers–you're done for. he curls his fingers, dragging out slowly and you clench around him, moaning.
“right there huh?” he coos.
he doesn't need reassurance, knowing your body like the back of his hand but you let out a quiet “yes” in response regardless.
he’s relentless in his pace, pumping his fingers and licking over your clit incessantly. you feel it, the coil tightening in your lower abdomen. you tug his hair in warning and he hums against you, the vibration making you shiver. he speeds up, replacing his tongue with his thumb. you buck up, meeting his thrusts
“there you go, fuck yourself on my fingers. so good for me, fuck.” he mutters out praises as he hovers over you again, his lewdness makes you whine. it always throws you off when spencer swears, much less when he talks like that, but you're not complaining.
“spence-”
“you gonna cum for me? cum all over my fingers?” he says against your cheek, dotting your face with delicate pecks. the gentleness of the action compared to what he was doing to you made you dizzy.
you babble out an incoherent confirmation as you grasp at his shoulder, no doubt leaving behind crescent shaped indents. he mouths at your neck and encourages you. “i’m right here. you're doing so good, let go angel.”
You fall apart with a broken sob, back arching off the bed. his hand chases the movements of your hips while you hold him tightly. his hand slows as he feels you calm down. he withdraws his fingers and brings them to his mouth, humming contentedly at the taste. You quickly pull them out, your nose scrunched.
“i hate when you do that,” you whisper, a little dazy.
“no, you don't,” he says with a smile, dipping down to kiss you. “you good?”
you can taste yourself on his lips, “yeah,” you reply bashfully. 
“think you can handle another?” 
you nod and you watch as he takes his boxers off. he situates himself between your legs, parting them a bit more before he drags his tip between your folds a few times. you whimper at the stimulation. his eyebrows furrow in thought.
“you wanna try something?”
“yeah? what'd you have in mind?”
“could you turn around and get on your knees?” he asks tentatively, eye darting between yours for any traces of discomfort.
there is none, just a hint of confusion as you position yourself the way he wants. he comes up behind you and guides your hips back to meet his. with one hand on your waist, he pulls your body closer so your back is flush to his chest. he kisses your shoulder, trailing up to your neck. he nibbles your earlobe and leans in.
“have you ever tried this one?” he says quietly, attempting to be serious but the smile on his face betrays him.
you groan, “ugh, you're so corny,” you cover your face with your hand, using the other one to slap his thigh. he laughs, a short breathy chuckle that you feel at the back of your neck. you lean your head back on his shoulder, “just fuck me.”
he huffs, something between a laugh and a groan. he pushes into you slowly and you moan in unison. you're quick to loop your hand behind his head as he builds a steady pace. the angle is excruciating, hitting your g spot with every draw back of his hips. you clench around him and he sighs into your neck, biting lightly. you grab one of his hands at your side and wrap it around you. your head turns toward his, pressing your cheek into his nose. it isn't enough. 
“baby,” you gasp at a particularly hard thrust of his.
he knows. “i know. i know. need to see you,” his voice is hoarse as he turns you around and lays you on your back.
he wastes no time in entering you again, burying his face in your neck as he does so. its slow and deep and you can feel all of him.
“fuck, angel. you feel so good,” he whimpers, speeding up.
“yeah? you feel amazing in me, beautiful boy.”
the sentiment makes him whine whorishly, beautiful boy. you caress the back of his neck as he ruts into you. he pulls his head up and lays his forehead on yours, gasping quietly. you stick your chin up and he kisses you, soft and messy and breathless, as the two of you steal eachother’s oxygen. you break away and glance down at where your bodies meet, his eyes follow yours.
“look at you, taking me so perfectly,” his praises go straight to your core, driving you closer. he can tell by the way your walls flutter, he trails his hand down and rubs your clit in tight circles. your nonsensical sobs of please and so close are heard by him as he drives into you deeper and harder. “me too, angel girl. i've got you, wanna feel you come on my cock,” he nudges you, words strained as he chases his own release.
your second orgasm crashes into you and like dominoes, his one follows. he comes in you with a shuddering cry. the aftershocks leave you twitching as spencer lazily fucks into you, selfishly. you squirm at the overstimulation and he stills his hips.
“good girl, you did so well for me,” he coos, pushing a piece of hair out of your face. your hum of appreciation turns into a sound of protest as he tries to move.
“wait, stay like this a bit…” you trail off, pulling him onto you, keeping him in you.
he indulges you for a while, he'll get up in a minute, knowing if he doesn't you'll complain about the stickiness and blame him. for now though, he tucks both his arms under you and nestles his head on your chest. he feels you laugh under him and he sticks his head up, expression on his face quizzical.
“i didn't think that me dancing would get you going so much,” you tease, though your eyes are filled with something akin to awe as you look at him.
he laughs too, “oh you have no idea.”
m.list
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amaranthineghost · 3 months ago
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˗ˏˋ꒰ 🥥 ꒱ TWO WHEEL DRIVE: CROSSWALK COLLISION ( lando norris. )
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lando norris x biker!reader
it's race week in miami, but instead of being on four wheels, lando has some two wheel trouble. he feels bad enough to where he turns to twitter to help find the girl he nearly caused a collision with.
authors note: I love bikers so I had to do this (and I know that lando didn't help oscar win his sprint, but she doesn't know that! yet!!!) second and third part will be out in the next few days or so!
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ynusername
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liked by yourbsf and 2,947 others
ynusername sunset ride and almost hitting a guy on the crosswalk core!! 🤗🤗🤗
view all 96 comments
yourbsf always so fun to ride with you 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼 maybe next time don't almost hit a pedestrian? 😅
user this is the girl lando was looking for?! SHES STUNNING
⤷ ynusername who's lando? 😅 and thanks babes 🫶🏼🫶🏼
⤷ user oh lando? we go way back, he helped rescue my cat from a tree!
⤷ user yeah, he's a real one, he gave cpr to my goldfish after it flopped onto the carpet 🤗🤗🤗
user hello??? SHES SUCH A BADDIE
user thanking lando for helping us discover this gorgeous woman
⤷ user right like maybe she did us a favor by almost running him over...
user the internet becoming his wingman so he doesn't fumble this baddie 😭😭
⤷ user lando norriz and nowins better prove one of those statements wrong soon 🙌
user nahhh because what's wrong with her?? nearly running him over and then posting with a stupid caption about it?? 🙄🙄🙄
⤷ user this girl clearly doesn't understand who he is 🫣
user i need to see lando on a bike, he'd rock that shit
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ynusername
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liked by landonorris and 6,037 others
ynusername safe to say i won't be falling asleep tonight 🫶🏻
view all 174 comments
user HELLO??? IS THAT LANDO
user OH MY GOD
user bro's doing charity work out here
user LANDO NORIZZ HAS RIZZ?? (he rescued my entire family from a house fire)
user please LET THAT BE LANDO
yourbsf i thought i was your backpack 😕
⤷ ynusername you are bbg i just gave a man a short ride
⤷ yourbsf uh huh 🤨
user lando backpack confirmed
user lando actually rescued me from a desert island on his multi-million dollar yacht!
landonorris pretty sunset
❤️ by author
user im gonna faint, lando commented
user EVERYBODY STAY CALM!!!
oscarpiastri lando actually helped me win a sprint race
user she's clearly just using him
⤷ user stay mad
landonorris
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liked by ynusername and 807,438 others
landonorris i think two wheels suits me
view all 6,273 comments
user omg that's the same sunset in ynusername's post??
user lando on a bike? YES PLEASE!!!
user i can barely handle him with four wheels, i don't know about two!!!
user oh my god the second picture is goals
ynusername what a cute cat! 😊
⤷ landonorris not as cute as you
user im not the only one who saw that comment from lando right?
⤷ user no i definitely saw that
user HE HAS RIZZ I FEAR!!
user i know my goat
user backpack lando has too much power
⤷ user lando anywhere near a bike has too much power
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ynusername
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liked by mclaren and 50,974 others
ynusername sorry i had plans <3
tagged alexandrasaintmleux, iamrebbecad, mclaren, landonorris
view all 1037 comments
user oh my GOD SHE WAS AT THE RACE?
⤷ user i bet lando asked mclaren to invite her 🥺
landonorris thank you for coming to support me on four wheels this time!
⤷ ynusername of course, i had so much fun and you deserve it so much! 🫶🏻
⤷ user smooth lando, smooth
⤷ user on four wheels this time...THIS TIME?!
user stop she was there supporting lando MY HEART
⤷ user i can't take it I LOVE THEM
alexandrasaintmleux so amazing to see you darling 🌺 can't wait to see you again
⤷ ynusername i had such an amazing time, i love you so much 🥹 i'll be waiting impatiently
user stop the other wags interacting with our new (potential) wag
user i need to see her with all the other wags now
⤷ user it's a must
iamrebeccad a pleasure to meet you! you looked absolutely stunning and i look forward to hanging out again!
⤷ ynusername i love you so much, you are drop-dead gorgeous! i would love to hang out again soon 🫶🏻
user the way everyone loves her
⤷ user i mean, can you blame them? she's a hot, incredibly stunning and badass biker who's insanely sweet and kind! who wouldn't love her?!
⤷ user i don't blame them, i fear i would gravitate towards her like a magnet if i ever met her 🥲
mclaren lovely having you at the hospitality! should keep you around if it means our drivers will win 😉
⤷ ynusername thank you for giving me this amazing experience and opportunity! i'd love to do it again sometime 🫶🏻
user MCLAREN'S COMMENT??
⤷ user please let this be a sign
⤷ user mclaren please we need to see them again
user they need to be together
⤷ user as much as i would love to see them together, she lives in miami and he's leaving 😭
⤷ user no shush i'm manifesting
⤷ user okay real i'm right there beside you
landonorris
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liked by ynusername and 1,028,202
landonorris nowins and norizz? okay lol
view all 9,263 comments
user HELLO SOFT LAUNCH!!
⤷ user soft launch, but we already know its them
⤷ user let them have their fun!
user bro really said lol
user lando has a win and rizz??? is the world okay???
ynusername so proud of you! you deserve it 🫶🏻
⤷ landonorris i won because you were watching
⤷ user lando said "this one's for you" and SCORED
oscarpiastri congrats on the win mate
⤷ landonorris thanks osc!
user LANDO CALLING OSCAR 'OSC' MAKES IT EVEN BETTER
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taglist (found here): @poppyflower-22 @sapphiccloud @darleneslane @decafmickey @slut4lrh @kaa12 @taylorslovesswifties13 @sbella13 @nhlfs @beskardroids @hiireadstuff @lorenica @delululeclerc @c-losur3 @casperlikej @soamericn @tellybearyyyy @geniusalpaca @namgification
proofread by @foreveralbon <333
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okay-babe · 9 months ago
Text
Mothering
tags: alastor x fem! reader, suggestive themes, allusions to sex, alastor and reader are married, domestic bliss, Husk and Angel are tortured by your love for each other.
It was a rather quiet morning, one that had become almost typical of the hotel in the quickly passing months, and Angel watched as, like usual, the Radio Demon began to walk swiftly from the stairwell to the front doors.
Although, this time, there was a notable interruption to the sinner's routine.
"Al, wait!"
You called in an almost panicked sounding tone, bounding down the stairs in only your night gown, an object that Angel couldn't quite make out in hand.
Immediately, Alastor halted where he stood, his neck turning before the rest of his body to watch as you rushed over to him, cheeks flushed from your run down to the lobby.
The demon raised a brow at you curiously, but with a marked lack of exasperation that must have come from that store of patience he reserved just for you, and you smiled sheepishly as you held up a small shimmering band.
"You forgot this."
You said, tone almost nervous sounding as you continued your approach in spite of the painfully obvious adoration written all over the Radio Demon's face.
Immediately, Alastor looked down toward his left hand in surprise, his eyes widening ever so slightly at the sight of his barren ring finger before he looked back to you and smiled one of those gentle soft things he once again only seemed to reserve for you.
"Ah, why thank you, my dear."
He all but purred, eyes lighting up as you grew ever closer until he could finally offer his hand to you in the way you so clearly desired.
You grinned happily at the gesture and reached forward with the ring in hand as the sinner spoke up again,
"I couldn't fathom going a day without it."
You blushed at that, eyes diverting swiftly for a moment before they moved almost instinctively back to Alastor, watching his pleased expression as you slid his wedding ring back onto his waiting finger.
You stared at him for a few seconds, as if enthralled by the very vision of him in spite of the fact that you quite literally woke up to the man every morning, until finally you snapped yourself out of it with a slightly embarrassed clearing of your throat.
"Well, I'm quite sure you could manage if you had to."
You said softly, voice slightly higher in pitch than usual as your husband bent down, the already raised left side of his mouth curling upward further in an amused smirk at the sight of your pink cheeks and slightly nervous body language.
He'd had this effect on you in life as well, but it seemed he'd never tire of seeing it, even after so very long.
"Manage, certainly, but I'm not sure I would want to without the reminder of my darling wife back home."
He drawled, his now decorated left hand reaching up to palm your cheek and his eyes scanning you with a chuckle as you all but melted into his touch, always so very receptive to his affections whenever he was willing to offer them.
Suddenly though, your eyes widened, and you broke away with a gasp, your gaze shifting down to Alastor's hands only to find them empty.
"Al, did you remember to grab the organs I prepared for Rosie yesterday evening?"
You asked, immediately causing Angel and Husk over by the bar to flinch in response.
Had it been a surprise that the Radio Demon's wife was a little bit too comfortable with cannibalism? Not nearly as surprising as it was that the overlord had a wife in the first place, but still, it certainly hadn't been anticipated that you would be so handy with a boning knife.
The deer demon standing in front of you let out a soft hum of surprise before he shook his head, straightening back out to his full height with one arm crossed over the other.
"Silly me, it appears I'd nearly forgotten."
He replied, tone colored with amusement as you immediately set off toward the kitchen before the man could even finished, returning shortly thereafter with a rather large container of something your observers would rather not think too hard about.
"Well count yourself lucky I felt up to the chase this morning, beau."
You teased as you set the tub down on an end table nearby so you could approach your husband once more, straightening out his tie and fussing over his hair for a few moments as the demon simply stood still beneath your attentions, smile both amused and contented all at once.
You looked up at him after a few moments, eyes softening slightly at the sight of his expression as your hands moved to brush some invisible lint off his chest.
"You know, it isn't like you to be so forgetful, Al."
You began gently, hands working to smooth out a few barely there wrinkles in the demon's shirt.
"I'm beginning to worry that your age is getting to you."
Your tone was far too teasing to ever be misconstrued as serious as you spoke, stepping away slightly to admire your handiwork only to be stopped by a tug at your wrist as Alastor moved to pull you close once more.
"Is that so?"
He purred, tone still just as amused as before as he flipped your teasing back on you tenfold,
"Well then darling, I suppose I'll have to remind you of just how spry I can be upon my return."
His voice lowered slightly as he said this, and instantly your cheeks felt hot and your eyes widened slightly beneath your husband's heavy gaze.
Desperate to change the subject before your (rather unwelcome) background audience caught on or made any commentary, you quickly cleared your throat again before giving a nervous laugh.
"Sure thing old man, whatever you say."
You said halfheartedly, watching as the Radio Demon's eyes grew darker at your unintentional challenge.
And at that, you were quick to switch topics.
"O-oh!"
You began, eyes roving aimlessly for something else to talk about before they finally fell to the unused coat rack in the corner of the room.
"Are you sure you won't be needing a coat, Al? I'd hate for you to catch a cold..."
You said nervously, hands wringing together as your husband watched you with sheer amusement and something slightly heavier behind his eyes, his mouth opening as if to reply only for him to be cut off by a voice from another part of the room.
"Babe, I love ya and all, but this is gettin' ridiculous!"
Angel cried out in exasperation,
"We're in hell, for cryin' out loud! Yer husband is a demon overlord who owns enough souls to be considered a large business owner! He's not gonna get cold out there!"
You gave another nervous laugh in response to Angel's rambling,
"But-"
"Nu uh, no buts Toots, now say goodbye to ol' tall, dark, and creepy before you start actin' like his motha' again."
Angel interrupted, immediately causing you to let out a huff of indignation, turning around to face your friend where he sat at the bar,
"I am NOT acting like his mother."
You insisted, attitude faltering a bit when you noted the rather amused expression that your comrades were wearing, informing you that you were likely making a slight fool of yourself.
"I-I'm not..."
You trailed off quietly, cheeks warm with embarrassment even as you felt a familiar clawed hand drop down upon your shoulder in a manner that was no doubt meant to be soothing.
Though, the next words out of your husband's mouth, in spite of his actions, most certainly were not.
"Not to worry, cher."
He purred, pulling you back against him gently so you could feel the warmth of his chest upon your back and the curl of his smile against your helix, a sensation which immediately caused you to shiver.
"If they wish to see you as a mother, I will happily oblige."
Your blush deepened at that, eyes widening as you desperately tried to ignore the shocked looks of your peers in favor of trying to focus on keeping your head straight instead as Alastor stepped away once more, the casualness of his attitude a stark contrast to his previous words.
"Oh dear, would you look at the time. I really must be going."
He said, a teasing lilt to his voice that was all too easy to hear coming through as he checked his wrist for a watch he wasn't actually wearing before leaning forward to press an exaggerated kiss to your forehead.
"I'll be seeing you later, darling." He drawled with that trademark grin of his as he approached the door, one clawed hand reaching to pull it open before he finally stepped out.
That is, until a few seconds later, when his head popped back in again.
"Oh, and do keep well hydrated, dear heart! I would hate to endure a repeat of the last time you called my spryness into question."
Alastor looked far too pleased with himself as he spoke for you to even bother attempting to rebuke him, and but a moment later he was gone, off to see Rosie with a well adorned ring finger and a large container of organs in hand.
"WHAT DID HE SAY?!"
Angel cried, still clearly stuck on your husband's mothering comment from earlier as you sighed and approached the bar, an apologetic look on your face as you glanced toward Husk.
"Can I just get a water please?"
You muttered sheepishly, immediately causing the bartender to groan and bury his face in his hand, his disappointment in your immense lack of shame obvious, but truly, what else had he expected?
Had he met your husband?
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everythingne · 2 months ago
Text
unbothered - op81
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oscar's longtime girlfriend is a ballroom dancer. fans don't like that she has to dance with other people. oscar could not give a shit what people say.
ballroom dancer!reader x oscar piastri // fc: parley and natalie
requested by @starlightdelrey (thank you darling!)
warnings/notes: rumors of cheating (no one is cheating), i know nothing about ballroom dancing other than it looks so fucking cool so take this mwah
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liked by oscarpiastri, ronaniliano, hattipiastri, and others...
yourusername: thanks to all who supported us at the US National Dancesport Championships! we may not have gotten a trophy this weekend, but any weekend is good when I'm dancing with my bestie @ ronaniliano <3 (FINALLY!!! now that his ankle is no longer sprained!)
ronaniliano: in the words of my king matthew lillard: "i always come back"
⤷ yourusername: u wanna rewatch that with some post-comp ramen?
⤷ ronaniliano: yes girl lets go
⤷ user: ronan and yn's friendshippp omg
user1: congrats! welcome back to my favorite duo <3
oscarpiastri: ❤️
⤷ yourusername: omg u actually commented?
⤷ oscarpiastri: my mom told me i had to
⤷ yourusername: @ nicolepiastri have i ever said how much i love you?
⤷ nicolepiastri: yes! hundreds of times! but i never mind hearing it again from you !
hattiepiastri: how much to do a txt routine.
⤷ yourusername: i cant perform it but ill bribe ronan into making one for u
⤷ hattiepiastri: as payment, next time ur in aus ill pay for hungry jacks
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liked by oscarpiastri, michealchen, ronaniliano, and others...
yourusername: nom nom nom >:) eating some gold this weekend at @ ohiostarball ! shout out to @ michealchen for the dress this weekend, i felt like a little princesss !!
michealchen: thanks for making my designs shine!
ronaniliano: the prettiest princess on the dancefloor
⤷ yourusername: awe u make me blush :)
⤷ user: uhm... flirting?? on main??
hattiepiastri: lets FUCKING GOOO!!!!!
user1: the way ronan looks at yn omg
⤷ user2: how are they not dating
⤷ user3: no they have to be
⤷ user4: but yn literally has a whole ass boyfriend of six years?
⤷ user1: guys chill they're friends ?? yn has said this before.
oscarpiastri: ❤️
⤷ user5: bro STAND UP. USE UR EYES
⤷ user1: stop being a fucking freak dude
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liked by hattiepiastri, ronaniliano, oscarpiastri, and others...
yourusername: big hugs for such a big finish! double gold this weekend! thank u @ ronaniliano for everything <3
comments have been disabled for this post!
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liked by landonorris, yourusername, logansargeant, and more...
oscarpiastri: she only cheats at chess (by kissing me and switching our pieces)
tagged: yourusername
comments have been limited!
landonorris: okay save some dignity here man
⤷ oscarpiastri: sorry i have the urge to flex my very awesome world champion ballroom dancer girlfriend who wins almost every event and people should respect her more and not be weird
⤷ landonorris: ur a simp
⤷ oscarpiastri: date someone and then talk to me ab being a simp
logansargeant: you can let go of her i promise she isn't going anywhere
ronanilliano: ugh u two are just perfect its unfair
carlossainz: you certainly have a way of shutting down rumors
hattiepiastri: if you guys ever break up true love is NOT real
yourusername: you're a very easy man to distract :)!
⤷ oscarpiastri: you're doing so right now
⤷ yourusername: yeah get off ur phone loser and pay attention to me :) <3
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eatfishies · 2 months ago
Text
Intoxicated By Your Sweet Taste 🔞
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summary: Zayne thinks he hasn’t given you much attention due to his work.
or
Pussy drunk! Zayne can’t get enough of you.
word count: 2k tags: NSFW, zayne x reader (afab), no plot just filth, oral sex, oral fixation, cunnilingus, clit play, swearing, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, overstimulation, coming multiple times, domestic fluff at the end, pet names, breeding kink, creampie, established relationship fish notes: as always, pls heed the tags ~ nevertheless, this fic was inspired by this twt here ! hope all of u enjoy <3 ── ao3 link ★ ˙ ̟ | my twt !
It was past midnight when the door creaked open, revealing a tired looking Zayne. She was already in bed, snuggled up with the plushies her dear lover got for her. Zayne smiled at the sight before striding towards her, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.
That action caused her to stir, fluttering her eyes open to look at her partner. “You’re back.” She mumbled sleepily.
Zayne gently stroked her hair, lulling her back to sleep. “Go back to sleep, love.” He said as he continued to play with her hair.
“I’ll only sleep if you do too.” She replied, which earned her a small smile from Zayne.
Once he had finished showering, she couldn’t help but marvel at his chiseled chest, glistening with droplets of water, running down ever so slowly. She tore her eyes away, feeling a little bit flushed.
It doesn’t go unnoticed by her observant lover though as Zayne pointed out, “Weren’t you half awake earlier? It seems like you’ve got your attention elsewhere now.”
She didn’t even bother to attempt and deflate herself because it’s true. She is enjoying this view very much.
Just like that, she hoisted herself up and had her eyes solely on him. Desire and lust coursing through her veins. “Yeah… you’re not wrong. It’s because you’re so fucking hot, you know that?”
A chuckle rumbled out of Zayne, a little surprised by her bold declaration, considering how sleepy she was earlier. “Ah, so that’s what caught your attention?”
Before she could even reply, Zayne is already making his way to the bed. Her eyes widened slightly as he pushed her down gently, making her gaze up at him.
“Have I neglected my darling? Am I not pleasuring you enough?” He spoke as his face inched closer. She felt her breath hitched in her throat as the pit of her stomach coiled with pure lust.
The words she wanted to say were caught up, speechless by the sudden mood change. She bit her lip, “What are you gonna do if I say yes?”
Thick, strong fingers found its way to cup her face, “Then I shall take it upon myself to satisfy you until all your needs are met.” Without any hesitation, Zayne closed the distance between them and passionately kissed her.
She gasped as his other hand went to grab her hips, keeping her firmly in place as his tongue explored her mouth. Every ounce of sleepiness she had in her quickly vanished, instantly replaced by a primal hunger for him. She needs, no, she yearned to be one with him. To feel him in every way possible.
“Don’t… hold back.” He murmured in between her lips before he moved to trail kisses down on her neck, eliciting moans and whimpers. She closed her eyes shut, taking in the pleasure she’s receiving as he continued to suck and bite on her neck, leaving behind marks.
It was just a pure coincidence that she decided to wear a nightgown but she’s thankful nevertheless since it gave Zayne easy access to slip his hand up and caress her soft skin, feeling her up. She can feel her pussy growing needier and wetter with each touch he makes.
She sucked in a deep breath when his fingers began to rub against her slick, “Someone’s excited.” Zayne remarked as he suddenly pulled his fingers away and moved down to crouch in between her legs.
Instinctively, she spread wide open, staring down at him. “So wet for me… you really want this, hm?” She nodded eagerly, “Please… I need it.”
The once impassive doctor morphed into something else entirely. His expression held a plethora of emotions behind them as he felt his own hardness beneath his towel. “Very well. Scream for me princess.”
Any sort of thoughts she conjured up turned into nothing the moment Zayne licked her drooling pussy. His tongue expertly flicked her clit as she laid back down on the bed and writhed in intense pleasure.
“F- fuck! Zayne… hghh!” She moaned out as Zayne lapped at her needy cunt, savoring all of her wetness, wanting to taste all of her.
Her hands immediately tugged onto his hair, pulling him closer to her crotch as she screamed out his name repeatedly. It was too good that she could barely keep still, Zayne held onto her thighs to stop her from squirming.
The familiar pit in her stomach intensified, itching her closer to release. “Hahh…! Z- Zayne! I’m close, I’m so close!” She whined out, to which he kept tonguing her entrance vigorously until she arched her back and came all over his face.
Zayne pulled away slightly and licked his lips. There are traces of pussy juice on his mouth but he didn’t care. Not when his precious sweetheart tastes so divine. Before she could even beg him to put his hard shaft inside her, she gasped once she felt Zayne’s tongue on her folds again.
“W- wait! I… I just came!” She exclaimed, feeling like her legs were gonna give out from pleasure. But Zayne paid no mind as he resumed his ministrations on her sopping wet cunt. Even after orgasming, her pussy still throbbed for more.
At this point, she’s pretty sure she’s on cloud nine, especially when Zayne sucked on her nub, making her tremble. Green eyes observing her movements, watching as she moans and whimpers. Looking beautiful like this, Zayne wanted to keep this memory etched into his mind forever.
It was unbearable, she tried to push him away but he kept a strong grip on her legs, his tongue relentlessly flicking her eager pussy, swallowing all of her juices. He can feel himself getting intoxicated by her dripping cunt. There is nothing more rewarding than coming home everyday and getting to lap at her entrance like a starved man whilst also relishing her delightful sounds.
“C- coming!” Her hands scrambled for purchase as she came undone. Zayne lifted his head and spoke in a raspy voice, “Did you feel good, honey?”
There was no single coherent thought in her mind right now. She couldn’t even think properly, it’s all a muddled mess, too foggy with pleasure. Sensing her pliant demeanor, Zayne moved to her side, brushing off the strands of her hair from her face.
“You’re so good for me, dear.” Was the only thing she heard before Zayne trailed his fingers down to caress her inner thighs, igniting goosebumps all over. She weakly muttered, “What are you doing?” Instead of responding, Zayne leaned down and pecked her lips. “Are you a good girl for me?”
His finger easily slipped in her gaping pussy, thrusting it in and out, earning a mewl from her. She bit her lips, “T- too sensitive... Zayne…” She clutched onto his arm, looking at him with glassy eyes.
“I said, are you a good girl?” Zayne repeated his question but this time, he inserted another finger in, taking away all of her last resolve.
“Mhmm… ah! Yes! Yes!” That further drove Zayne to keep plunging his fingers deep inside her gummy walls.
It has been hours since Zayne has been pushing her far off into her limits. Sleep be damned as he is now lapping up at her loose, dripping cunt. She could only let out soft mewls and moans whenever he skillfully buried his head in between her thighs. No amount of protest could get him to stop. It’s like Zayne has been possessed by an insatiable lust demon or some sort, at least that’s what she thought.
Tears stained her cheeks as she stared at Zayne who was lazily eating her out. “Zayne… please…”
He gave her pussy one last lick before meeting her teary gaze, “Please what?”
“Please… fuck me…” She pleaded, her hands reaching out to pull him on top of her. “You’ve been torturing my pussy non-stop… I want to make you feel good too.”
“Ah, I see. So, my needy princess wants it that bad?” He spoke as he discarded his towel. It’s kind of amazing at how he managed to hold back his desire to mount her completely, especially since she looked ravishing like this. Blissed out and glowing from the amount of orgasm she lets out.
She nodded eagerly, “Give it to me, please? I’ve been so good.” To emphasize, she wrapped her legs around his hips, trying to close the gap between them and feel his body against hers.
“I guess someone deserves it, after all.” With ease, Zayne lined his cock on her entrance, sliding it in and immediately began to thrust.
While their love-making session was always tender, albeit sometimes a bit passionate, it was never really like this. Intense and unrelenting with vigor as Zayne continued to pound into her deep. Her cunt spasming and clenching tightly around his cock. “Fuck… you feel so wonderful around me, sweetheart.”
Even if she wanted to say something, each thrust made her eyes roll back. Her mind is running into an overdrive as Zayne picks up his pace, unfaltering and burning with the need to come inside her.
Noticing Zayne’s furrowed brows and his eyes closed shut, “Come for me. Come inside me, baby. Want you to breed me.” She spoke, her voice laced with urgency and desperation.
At last, Zayne thrusted inside her hard before stilling, heaving and burying his face in her neck. She smiled at him dazedly as she cards her fingers through his hair. When Zayne pulled out, he watched in fascination at how her cunt drooled with cum. The sight alone made him want to ravage her right then and there, but he knew, they both had to sleep.
So, instead, Zayne helped clean her up and cuddled her as they both drifted off to slumber.
Something was wet… and there were sounds of shuffling. When she woke up, her eyes widened as she saw Zayne languidly circling her clit with his tongue. “H- huh?” She uttered out, confused and yet, Zayne only mumbled out, “Lay back. Let me please you once more before I leave for work.”
How could she refuse when her lover had asked so sweetly? She did as he instructed and laid back down on the soft bed, letting him spread her wide open. At this point, she had lost track of how many times she came, especially from last night.
This time, Zayne made sure to take his time, flicking her folds ever so slowly. One part of her felt like he was torturing her but another part of her couldn’t help but preened at how good it feels when he’s savoring her like this.
The morning sun casted a soft glow around the room, making this even more enjoyable as she focused on Zayne, tasting every drop her cunt oozed, not letting any of it go to waste. The slurping sound reverberated across the walls as she flushed.
Despite coming so many times, the familiar pit in her stomach still lingered, coiling and intensifying as she neared her climax. “Hghh… Zayne… baby, I’m so close.” She meekly mewled out, her legs shaking. Zayne sucked on her nub and sneakily thrusted a finger into her cunt, scissoring her whilst he ate her out.
Just like that, it was enough to drive her to the edge. She came, hard on his face. Her vision blurs and she shuts her eyes closed, letting the euphoria wash over her.
She faintly heard Zayne uttering a soft, “I love you” to her before getting up and tucking her in bed.
The second time she woke up, she found that Zayne had already left for work. She groggily got out of bed and headed to the kitchen. There, she found a plate of breakfast ready made for her and a bouquet of flowers.
Her body was sore all over but this gesture made it all worth it. Smiling, she walked up to the table and picked up the bouquet, smelling the flowers before sitting down and stuffing the food, the tiredness fading away and was replaced by hunger.
Luckily for her, she had a day off today and was able to cozy up at home until Zayne comes back. He gave her a fond smile as he placed the bag on the coffee table, “I got you macarons from the cafe. What do you feel like having for dinner? Let me cook for you.”
Safe to say, she is indeed a lucky girl to be able to love and be with Zayne.
2K notes · View notes
xreaderanonaccount · 11 months ago
Text
So Warm and Fluffy
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Synopsis: Harbinger men (minus Pucinella) with an S/O who wears their Fatui coat.
Characters: Pierro, Capitone, Dottore, Pantalone, Childe
Tags; Suggestive on Childe
A/N: Gawd, I need more lore on all the harbingers. I need MORE. I also lowkey didn't know what to write for Panatalone, which sucks cause I absolutely love this man.
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The party was a bore, you couldn’t help but let out a bored sigh. Pierro seemed to immediately notice this and placed a gentle hand on the bottom of your back.
“Is everything okay my dear?” Pierro whispered into your ear, you leaned against his shoulder and sighed.
“This place is a bore and there’s nothing fun.” Pierro hummed in agreement as he stared distantly towards the crowd. There was a small crowd of aristocrats huddled around you two hoping to earn a favor from the Tsaritsa. You just sighed again before looking at the giant door that beckoned you toward them.
“Dear, I’m going to walk around a bit. Is that okay?” You asked, tilting your head towards him. Pierro closed his eyes and gave a soft nod.
“Make sure you bring a scout.” Pierro sighed as he turned back to a conversation an aristocrat was trying to make. You smiled to yourself before beckoning a nearby scout to follow you. You were very lucky that the party was hosted in one of the many Fatui’s castles, even more lucky that this just so happens to be Pierro’s. You and the scout silently walked down the empty hall, your shoes echoed around before stopping by a familiar door. You smiled as you fished in your pockets, pulling out a small key. You gently placed the key inside the keyhole before turning it. With a soft click the door opened revealing a huge office. You knew this office quite well as this was Pierro’s main office. You walked towards the giant desk smiling as you picked up a small picture of you and Pierro. You gently placed the picture back down before walking around the office. Staring out the window you sighed happily staring down the garden that Pierro planted for you. You were so lost in thought, staring at the snowflakes that slowly drifted down, that you didn’t feel the soft click of the door open. You smiled to yourself thinking about the nice stroll you and Pierro took earlier in the morning. You suddenly felt warm, when you felt a soft coat gently placed on your shoulder. 
“You’ll get cold if you stay still like that.” Pierro murmured against your ear, planting a soft kiss against your cheek. His mask slightly biting your skin. You giggled as you turned to face Pierro. 
“Well if I do get cold you’ll somehow keep me warm right?” You smiled as you placed your hand right where his heart lay. Pierro deeply chuckled as he cupped your hand as you planted a soft kiss on your wrist.
“Of course, my dear.” 
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Capitano grunted as he attacked the dummies with his giant claymore. You stared unapologetically at Capitano’s abs, muscle, anything your eyes looked around. You sighed dreamily as Capitano's muscles moved and contracted with each swing. You two were in the lobby of Goth Grand Hotel which Lord Regrator generously booked… forever. Capitano swung his claymore, slicing the dummies in half. Capitano huffed and puffed as he circled his shoulders. Loosening the tension in his shoulder. You clapped at Capitano’s display,
“You look so good Darling.” You smiled as you slouched against the plush lobby couch. Capitano gave out a hearty laugh before walking over to get a drink from his cup. 
“Thank you my love.” He laughed as he lifted his helmet slightly for him to wipe his sweat. You hummed as you looked around the lobby of the Goth Grand Hotel. It was quite fancy, true to Mondstadt architecture the arcs curved beautifully with etched designs watching over you two. The soft light emitting from the crystal chandelier shone upon you. Your eyes drift before you spot Capitano’s Harbinger coat. He didn’t wear it as Mondstadt’s weather didn’t deemed it cold enough for him to wear it. You traced your hand over the details of the Harbingers coat. Whoever designed it clearly had a good sense of fashion. You smiled as you pulled the heavy coat towards you. Capitano’s smell filled your senses as you took in a deep breath, allowing his scent to fill your lungs. You couldn’t help but sigh as you got comfortable on the lobby couch. You watched Capitano continue his training, his sleeveless turtleneck hug his muscles so well. Capitano swung his claymore making eye contact with you who was snug underneath his harbinger coat.
“Comfortable?” Capitano asked, hoisting his claymore over his shoulder. You nodded as you pulled the black fur close to your face.
“Your jacket is very comfortable.”  You smiled as you adjusted your position, Capitano laughed as he turned back to his dummies.
“Well then I'll ask Pantalone about getting you a custom one." You can hear Capitano smile as he slashed at the nearest dummy. You couldn't help but laugh,
"That would be nice wouldn't it?"
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You shivered inside Dottore’s lab. Your lover is a mad man so of course he loves to have his lab ac on in an already really cold nation. You are already wearing thick layers but the cold keeps biting your skin. 
“Can we please turn the heater on?” You asked, but it seemed the question fell on deaf ears. As none of the segments seemed to hear you, they were too busy arguing with something that you couldn’t understand. You frowned slightly as the cold got to you. You got up and started to pace around the lab trying to warm yourself up. It was slightly working if it wasn’t for the fact that every other step you were taking you were bumping into one of the many segments. You always apologize and move out of the way. You did a couple more laps before you were stopped by Omega who just gave a small smile.
“Darling dearest, I believe you’re getting in the way. How about staying in Prime’s office till he returns?” He asked, not even waiting for your answer before guiding you towards Dottore’s office. You tried to protest but it seemed that protest didn’t reach Omega who just opened the office door and gently pushed you in.
“I’ll ask Delta to bring you something to eat, just stay put okay?” Omega gave you a smile before closing the door with a soft click. You sighed in frustration as you waltz around Dottore’s office. It looked off putting for some people, but you thought it was just his weird hobby. The assortment of body parts in jars, taxidermy animals, different types of ruin guards splattered around. It was a mess but a weird organized mess. You walked around his desk sitting down on his plush chair. Still freezing cold, you looked around the office spotting a small closet in the corner. Smiling, you got up and walked towards the door. Maybe Dottore at least will have a lab coat or something for you to wear. Opening the wooden doors, they gave a soft groan as you peered inside. The closet was mainly empty except for one item, his Fatui harbinger coat. You smiled to yourself as you ran your hand through the fabric. It was so soft under your hand, the soft metal clanked against each other as you cupped the teal crystal. You admired the crystal in your hands as it sparkled in the light. You gently took the coat off the hanger and put it on. The warmth instantly engulfs you, along with his scent. You smiled to yourself as you walked back towards his desk chair. You plopped down back on the plush chair, wiggling a bit, getting yourself comfortable on the plush chair. Finally comfortable in the severe cold lab you nuzzled your head against the black fur. The thick winter coat made you instantly feel warm. As you enjoy the deserved warmth you feel your eyes becoming droopy. Sleep lures you in as you close your eyes, the warmth, dottore’s cologne, and the comfort of being close to the segments. It seemed that you lost the battle as sleep took over slouching against the desk chair.
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Dottore walked into the lab to the buzzing sounds and movements. He rolled his shoulder as he put on his white lab jacket. Before he could get to his experiment table he was stopped by Delta who handed him a report.
“Here is that report you wanted,” Delta nodded as Dottore took it out of his hands. He flipped through the pages pleased by the results.
“Good, get back to work.” Dottore threw the report back to Delta’s arms, who just nodded. But before he was able to get back to work Delta told him about your state and how cold you were. Dottore rolled his eyes as he knew you would be cold and asked what they did about it. Delta mentioned that you paced around a bit before being put into his office. Dottore was curious about what you had gotten up to in his office. Dismissing Delta, Dottore headed to his office giving soft raps against his own office door. He thought this was silly but he rather you not throw something at him then be startled for a bit. When he didn’t hear a response he opened the door, only to be greeted by you snuggled up in his fatui harbinger coat sleeping on his office chair. Dottore smirked as he walked over to you, watching your sleeping form. Oh how naive you are to let your guard down, if you were anyone else he would have stuck so many different types of needles into you. Draw some blood samples, screw it, why not inject you with a mind altering drug? But lucky for you, you were his darling dearest, and he could never hurt you. He smiled to himself before tilting his mask up just enough for him to plant a kiss on top of your head without it poking your head. With a very rare and out of character soft smile Dottore turned back and headed to work. At least he doesn’t have to hear you complain about the cold.
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You and Pantalone walked down Snezhnaya’s greenhouse, a greenhouse that was owned by the Fatui for the public to see ecosystems from different regions. Hand in hand you walked down as you listened to a guide explain each plant from different regions. You smile as you listen to the guide, you would glance back at Pantalone who would always smile at you but you knew for a fact that he was bored out of his mind. He got particularly bored during the Liyue region, you didn’t care, you were just happy to see so much green. Snezhnaya is always cold and has deep shades of blue, so seeing this much green always makes you feel better. You two concluded your tour and were ready to head out, but as soon as you stepped outside the bitter wind blew against your face. You shivered against your already thick jacket, it seemed that the Snezhnaya weather had dipped way below freezing. You breathe into your hands to keep yourself warm, but alas it didn’t work. You stared out on the snow covered streets. Pantalone said that a vehicle should be coming soon but you couldn’t see crap. You felt yourself being pulled gently back inside the greenhouse before having a thick outer layer gently placed on your shoulder. You looked behind to see Pantalone smiling at you, he was wearing his purple inner jacket which seemed to do little to hide Pantalone’s shiver. 
“Pantalone, you’re shivering here.” You tried to protest by removing his Fatui coat off your shoulder but you were stopped as Pantalone placed it back on your shoulders.
“I’ll be fine my lily, your comfort is my utmost priority.” Pantalone smiled as he then turned to one of the workers ``kindly” asking them to bring a heater. Kindly is putting it nicely, more like he was demanding it with a nice tone. You giggled a bit before settling down on a nearby seat. Pantalone turned back to you giving you a rare soft smile that he only gives when you two were completely alone. 
“You look ravenous in my coat dear, I should have the tailor make one to your size.” He smiled as he adjusted the collar. 
“That would be nice,” you smiled as you saw a light shine through the greenhouse's door.
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You were rummaging through Childe’s closet, as Teucer wrote a letter missing Childe. So in return you thought it would be really cute to send one of Childe’s dress shirts over, hoping it would keep the young lad at bay. As you rummage through you feel something soft and fluffy brush against your hand. You paused for sec, Childe doesn’t own anything fluffy. He’s normally wearing something semi-fancy or an outfit fit for a warrior. Letting your thoughts get you, you pulled the fluffy object out of the closet. You gave a soft smile as you pulled his formal overcoat out. You brushed against the fabric, you normally only get to see him wearing this during special events. And when those special events happen you normally can’t see him because you’re so far away from the stage to see the harbingers so close. But when you do get a glimpse you understand the girls in Snezhnaya who fawn over the harbingers. Childe looks so handsome in the coat, and looks very warm. 
An idea popped into your head as you walked out of the walk-in closet. You pranced towards the giant mirror that sat in your shared bedroom. Gently putting the outer coat on you were overwhelmed by Childe’s cologne. You smiled as you hugged the coat closer to you. Looking at yourself in the mirror you were engulfed by his coat. The metal charms softly clanked against each other as you gave yourself a little twirl. Smiling to yourself you cuddled yourself into the black fur. It was so soft and warm and reminded you so much of Childe. As you were lost in your thoughts you suddenly felt a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist. You yelped in surprise before you heard a familiar chuckle. 
“You look so cute Zolotse.” You hear Childe mumble against the fur.
“Ajax! You’re home early.” You looked at him in surprise. He smiled as he stared loving at you.
“Yeah, I was able to finish work early and was just too excited to come home.” He laughed a bit before burying his head back into the fur coat. You leaned into Childe’s lean body as you two stayed in that position for a moment. 
“Maybe I’ll ask Pantalone to make a custom jacket for you.” Childe smiled as he picked you up in ease and twirled you around. You two laughed before Childe dropped you two on your soft bed. He was on top of you while you were sprawled against the bed. The Coat slightly hanging on you.
“Ha, you look so cute wearing my clothes. I wonder…” Childe gave a devious smile before you playfully hit his shoulder.
“Take me to dinner first Mr.Fatui Harbinger.” You two laughed as Childe fell on top of you engulfing you in a hug. 
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5K notes · View notes
driverlando · 4 months ago
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✧.* #BABYVERSTAPPEN
synopsis: Max accidentally leaks the news of your pregnancy during an interview and he breaks the internet
before you continue- I loveee this # series so much!! if you enjoy then pls reblog and follow :)
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✧.* the interview
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✧.* Y/N’s reaction
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You hear the front door creak open, and your heart skips a beat. Glancing up from your phone, you see Max walk in with a cautious smile, holding a tub of your favourite ice cream like a peace offering. The house feels unusually quiet, a stark contrast to the bustling energy you’re used to when Max comes home.
“Hey, love,” Max says, trying to sound cheerful despite the tension in the air. “I brought your favourite ice cream.”
You look at him, your eyes narrowing slightly. “Oh, so now you’re trying to bribe me with ice cream?”
Max winces at your tone, setting the ice cream down on the coffee table. “I thought it might help smooth things over.”
You sigh, putting your phone aside. “Max, do you have any idea how many messages I’ve gotten today? Everyone knows now. Everyone.”
“I know, and I’m really sorry,” Max replies earnestly, stepping closer to you. “It just slipped out. I was excited, and I didn’t think—”
“That’s the problem, Max. You didn’t think,” you cut in, crossing your arms and stepping back from him. “This was supposed to be our special moment. Our announcement.”
Max reaches out for your hand, his expression pleading. You pull away, your disappointment palpable.
“You’re in the dog house tonight, Verstappen.”
“Come on, Y/N, don’t be like that,” Max urges, his eyes reflecting genuine regret. “I know I messed up, but I didn’t mean to. I just couldn’t help talking about how happy I am.”
Your resolve wavers for a moment, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. “It’s not just about the announcement, Max. It’s about our privacy, our moment. You know how much this meant to me.”
“I do,” Max murmurs softly. “And I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”
You shake your head, though your expression softens just a bit. “You better. But tonight, you’re sleeping on the sofa.”
Max nods solemnly, accepting his fate. “Alright, the sofa it is. But can we at least share the ice cream?”
You hesitate, then roll your eyes in resignation. “Fine. But just the ice cream. You’re still in trouble.”
Max smiles gratefully, relieved that you’re willing to share even this small moment with him. He retrieves two spoons from the kitchen and settles on the sofa beside you, careful to maintain a respectful distance, the mood swings were strong today. You sit together in silence, eating the ice cream slowly, each lost in your own thoughts.
As you near the bottom of the tub, Max suddenly has an idea. “Hey, Y/N?”
You look at him, a spoonful of ice cream paused halfway to your mouth. “What?”
“I know I ruined our announcement, and I feel terrible about it,” Max begins earnestly. “But how about this—you can be the one to announce the sex of the baby. However you want, whenever you want. It’s your moment.”
Your gaze softens as you consider his suggestion. “I like that idea. But you’re still sleeping on the sofa tonight.”
Max chuckles softly. “Fair enough. But at least we’re getting somewhere, right?”
You lean in and kiss his cheek gently. “Yeah, we are. Thanks, Max. This means a lot to me.”
yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, yourbestfriend, landonorris and 1,357,147 others
yourusername guess the secrets out! (thanks max) baby verstappen we can’t wait to meet you 💘
tagged: @/maxverstappen1
view all 23,527 comments
yourbestfriend congrats!! so happy for the two of you ❤️
↳ yourbestfriend can’t wait to spoil her
↳ yourusername thank you darling! 💘
user1 hey, atleast max let you announce the sex 😂
user2 congratulations!! you’re going to be the best parents 🥳
maxverstappen1 so excited ❤️
user3 is max in the dog house? 😂
↳ yourusername yep.
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✧.* the boys reactions
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— Formula One Star Max Verstappen Accidentally Reveals Wife Y/N Y/L/N’s Pregnancy During Interview
By: Sasha, Rumour Radar
In a hilariously unexpected turn of events, Formula One champion Max Verstappen has found himself at the centre of a viral moment after inadvertently revealing his wife Y/N Y/L/N’s pregnancy during a live interview. The impromptu announcement has taken the motorsport and influencer communities by storm, and Y/N later added her own delightful twist to the news.
The Accidental Reveal
The incident unfolded during a press conference following Verstappen’s practice session. When asked about his expectations and what he was looking forward to in the new season, Verstappen, with his characteristic charm and ease, responded, “And for the baby to come too, the next season’s going to be busy.” The interviewer, catching the slip, pressed further, “Did you say baby?”
Max, realising his gaffe, was momentarily speechless. His face turned a shade of crimson as he stammered, “Uh, I mean…uh, no? Y/N is going to kill me.” This candid and unscripted moment sent ripples of excitement through the audience and quickly became the talk of the paddock.
Social Media Explosion
As soon as the clip aired, social media ignited. Fans, fellow racers, and celebrities alike flooded platforms like Twitter and Instagram with reactions, congratulations, and plenty of memes. The hashtag #VerstappenBaby soared to the top of the trending lists, making it clear that the news had captured everyone’s attention.
Fans and media outlets were abuzz with the news. In a move that was as swift as it was sweet, Y/N took to Instagram to confirm the delightful news. She posted a picture of a cake with pink filling and an ultrasound picture, accompanied by the caption, “Guess the secret’s out! (Thanks Max) Baby Verstappen, we can’t wait to meet you 💘.”
Max’s unintentional reveal and Y/N’s charming confirmation on social media endeared the couple even more to their legion of fans. Verstappen, known for his fierce competitiveness and composed demeanour on the track, showed a softer, more relatable side that resonated with many. His initial reaction, followed by Y/N’s sweet Instagram post, painted a picture of a couple who are navigating the journey to parenthood with humour and grace.
Messages of support
The Verstappen household, already bustling with the excitement of the F1 season, is now set for even more joy with the impending arrival of their baby girl. The couple, who have been private about their journey to parenthood, seemed to embrace the unexpected reveal with good humour. Max later took to social media, joking, “Lesson learnt! Next time, I'll leave the announcements to Y/N.”
As the F1 season progresses, Max Verstappen will have more than just his racing commitments to look forward to. The prospect of becoming a father has added a new dimension to his life, bringing a balance between his high-octane career and his personal life. This blend of professional and personal excitement has further endeared him to fans who now feel even more connected to his journey.
Despite the unplanned nature of the announcement, Max and Y/N have embraced the outpouring of support. A close friend of the couple shared, “Max and Y/N are over the moon about the baby. It wasn’t how they planned to share the news, but they’re thrilled with the love and support they’ve received and now laugh over the accidental reveal.”
Max’s teammates and rivals have also expressed their congratulations. Lewis Hamilton, Verstappen’s long-time competitor, commented on Y/N’s post, “Huge congrats to both of you! You’ll be the best parents!” Daniel Ricciardo, known for his playful camaraderie with Verstappen, added, “Can’t wait to meet Baby Verstappen! She’s going to be a little racer for sure.”
The new season
The unplanned revelation has certainly added a fresh layer of excitement to the season. Media outlets have been buzzing with speculation about how the impending fatherhood will impact Verstappen’s performance on the track. Analysts suggest that the new family milestone might provide him with an extra boost of motivation and focus.
For now, the spotlight remains on the happy news of Baby Verstappen. The couple’s playful and endearing approach to this new chapter in their lives has won them even more admiration and affection from their fans. As the countdown to their baby girl’s arrival begins, Max and Y/N are set to experience a whirlwind of emotions, balancing the thrills of Formula 1 with the joys of parenthood.
In the grandstands, on social media, and in the hearts of their supporters, Max and Y/N Verstappen are celebrated not just as a racing power couple but also as soon-to-be parents. The racing world waits with bated breath for more updates, eagerly anticipating the arrival of the newest member of the Verstappen family.
Stay tuned to Rumour Radar for the latest updates on this unfolding story and more celebrity gossip.
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2K notes · View notes
wholoveseggs · 4 months ago
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Small Victories
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18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}
{Daemon Targaryen X Reader} After a tourney in which Daemon places second, he seeks solace from his loss and finds it in his little northern maid.
♡♡ Hello darlings! I'm branching out slightly and writing about a new character {Don't worry, I'm still writing Elijah} xoxo ♡♡
5.3k words - Warnings: smutt, size!kink, rough sex, dom!daemon, slight choking, virgin!reader, northern!reader, servant!reader, pre-dance Daemon, huge power imbalance...
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♡♡ Hey! I didn't tag anyone because I'm unsure if you want to read Daemon content. If you wish to be tagged in future Daemon let me know ♡♡
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You didn't like the Red Keep, it was too grand for your liking. Even with all of the people in it you still felt alone. At night, you could hear voices echoing throughout the halls, sometimes they were singing or laughing and other times they were screaming or moaning.
You could never tell where the sounds were coming from, it gave the place an odd feeling of being haunted. Ghosts weren't something you put your faith in, but that didn't stop the hair from standing up on the back of your neck whenever you heard a strange sound.
If it was up to you, you wouldn't live here. You would be back in the little cottage you grew up in, far into the north and as far away from King's landing as you could possibly be. It was a funny contradiction, that such a grand place in a warm environment could feel so cold, while a small house in the cold north could feel so full of warmth.
The last thing your mother said to you, was that you should be grateful. That your place in the Red Keep was the highest honor your family could ever hope to receive, and that you should do anything to stay here. To be a lady's maid to the queen, was the highest achievement a low born could achieve.
You tried to be, even though your heart yearned for the snowy landscape of your childhood. You wanted to be happy, you were thankful, but you couldn't help the way you missed the north.
So to try and capture just a bit of personal freedom, you would walk the halls at night. It was the only time you could pretend to be somewhere else, even if it was only for a moment. You would close your eyes and imagine yourself somewhere new and exciting, and when you opened them you would be reminded of where you really were.
Tonight you were in a particularly adventurous mood, there was a tourney the next day for Prince Viserys and his wife Aemma to celebrate their wedding. The Red Keep would be full of guests and it would be loud and full of life, you were sure to be very busy, and so you decided to stay up late and postpone sleep for a few more hours.
There was a room in the library that had a view of the city, one you liked to frequent often. It had a large window and a balcony that was rarely used. It was a nice place to go to clear your mind and think about home.
When you entered, nobody was around except for a cat that was perched on the windowsill. She was a lovely thing with black fur and bright green eyes, the perfect color of a dark forest at night.
"Hello, beautiful." You greeted her with a smile and a light stroke along her back. You looked out the window with her at your side, watching the moon reflect off the ocean and the waves crashing against the shore.
The sound of footsteps behind you made you look over your shoulder, your eyes landing on a man with a face that made you stand up straight and bow your head.
"Prince Daemon." You greeted him, not looking up from the floor.
"Young maidens like yourself shouldn't be out so late." He said, stepping closer to you. You didn't dare move or even breathe, his presence made you feel like you were caught doing something wrong.
"I couldn't sleep, my lord," You answered, not meeting his eyes. This was your first real meeting with the prince, but you knew the rumors that surrounded him.
He didn't respond to your answer, instead, he turned his attention towards the view. Leaning against the window, his posture was dismissive, as though you weren't there. He gave you a side glance that read, 'leave,' and so you did, not wanting to get in his way.
"I apologize, I didn't mean to intrude." You said, walking past him, heading towards the doorway.
"You are from the north," he spoke, still looking out into the water.
"Yes, my lord," You answered, stopping when he started speaking.
"How did you find yourself as a maid in the south?" He asked, looking at you, his eyes piercing through you.
The truth of the matter made you feel shameful, even though it was beyond your control. So you decided to tell him what you've been telling everyone.
"I was given as a gift for our new queen," You said, looking down at the floor.
"Is that what they call it?" Daemon laughed, his laugh was as harsh as his voice, the kind of laugh that could cut you open if you let it. "I heard you were given away as payment for a debt."
Your cheeks reddened and you looked at the ground, your throat closing up at the mention of your family's failure. Pride wasn't something you could afford anymore, but you couldn't stop the words that came out of your mouth.
"I didn't realize that princes were so fond of gossip." You said, meeting his eyes, your words were meant to cut, and they did.
He stood up straight, his expression unreadable as he closed the distance between the two of you, towering over you.
"Ahh, so they did sell you." He smirked, looking down at you. "Whoring can make you better coin… recover a debt quicker."
Your hands balled up into fists and you took a step closer, a defiant glare on your face.
He chuckled and tilted his head, he reached out and touched your chin, his hand was soft but firm as he turned your face to look at him.
"With a pretty face like yours, I'm sure you would make quite a bit of coin," His voice was a purr, a seductive growl that made your insides feel tight. "I could show you a better use for those lips."
His words were shockingly vulgar, his voice was rough and commanding and his eyes were hungry, but you didn't move away, you stayed still. You knew the dragon prince was a scandalous man, but you didn't think he would ever be so bold.
"There is no honor in a whore's coin." You answered, pushing his hand away from your face.
"Is there honor in emptying the queen's chamber pot?" He retorted, grinning slightly at how red your cheeks had become.
"Not all of us have the opportunity to choose what sort of honor we can acquire,” You said, standing your ground as best as you could.
He towered over you, his tall frame casting a shadow that almost completely covered you. He wasn't like the king or queen, who were kind and generous. There was something dark and malicious about him, as though the great beasts of his house lurked just below his skin, waiting to come out.
"You have a smart mouth, little northerner." He mused, his eyes drifting down to your lips. "It's a wonder that the queen has not put a gag in it."
"It's a poor quality I have yet to overcome." You responded, pulling away from him and putting some distance between the two of you.
He watched you move away, his eyes following your movements and the shape of your body, making you feel hot.
"I will think of you when I win the tourney tomorrow." He said, his tone smug and confident. "A sweet northern flower to bring back with me."
"You will be bringing back nothing, prince Daemon." You said, your voice a warning.
He laughed and looked at you, his eyes dancing with mischief.
"We'll see about that."
And with those final words, he left the room. You felt flustered and annoyed, a strange mixture of feelings that confused and angered you. You didn't like the prince, but he made your heart race, his voice and his eyes made you feel a strange sense of heat.
You wanted to be disgusted, and yet all you could think about was seeing him again.
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It was a hectic morning, with all the knights and guests arriving, and you were late. Your tardiness had earned you a sharp reprimand from your head maid, but you were too distracted by the upcoming event to care.
The prospect of seeing the prince again was something you weren't sure you wanted, but couldn't stop thinking about.
You didn't like the way his eyes lingered on you, or how he made you feel things that shouldn't be felt. The rogue prince was indeed a fitting title, he was a scoundrel and a liar, a man of dishonor.
You thought that maybe he was the sort of person that the south created, perhaps they took people like you and turned them into someone like him. But then again, he wasn't really a southerner, no, he was a dragon.
The sound of cheers and laughter outside made your ears perk up. The queen was already seated with the other royals in their viewing box, and you were in a nearby tent, preparing more wine and food.
The tourney had just begun, and so far the knights had all performed well. You had only been paying a bit of attention, trying to do your job and keep out of the way.
The head maid was a cruel, vindictive woman, and she had been taking out her frustration on you all day. Her temper was short and her hands were rough, she was the kind of woman that would slap your hands or pull your hair if she was upset. But today she decided to simply make your life miserable with her words.
She gave you the worst jobs and the heaviest items to carry, and when she did allow you to stand and rest, she would hit your feet with her broom and tell you to get back to work.
"Once you are finished pouring wine, I want you to go to the prince's tent and serve him." She ordered, her eyes were sharp and her words were harsh.
"The prince has a squire to serve him." You protested, the idea of facing Daemon again made your cheeks turn red.
"The prince requested a woman's company,” She smiled, her eyes looking at you with an almost wicked satisfaction.
"I believe what the prince is looking for can be found on the street of silk, not among the ladies maids." You countered, hoping to change her mind.
"It's an honor to serve the prince, and he has specifically asked for a northern girl." The head maid was adamant, not willing to let this go.
You clenched your jaw and took a deep breath, biting your tongue as you looked at the floor.
"Very well, madam."
You held back tears as you climbed the stairs to the viewing box, pouring wine into the cups. Keeping your eyes low and only lifting them when absolutely necessary as you made your way down the line of royals.
Everyone began to stir and chat as the final round was announced. You turned to face the arena, watching as the prince mounted his horse, the sight of him made your heart flutter.
He was a handsome man, there was no denying that, his long blonde hair was braided and tied back, and his purple eyes were focused and determined.
His horse was a massive stallion, black as night, and he rode him as though they were one. He moved with a grace and confidence that was captivating.
The final round began, the two men charging at each other. You were nervous and excited, not knowing what to expect.
The clash of steel was the only sound in the air, it echoed throughout the entire arena. The crowd was silent, their eyes locked on the scene before them.
The two men passed each other, once, twice, three times. The tension building with each near miss, until finally the two knights clashed again.
Daemon's opponent had a slight edge over him, being bigger and stronger, but Daemon was quicker. But on the fourth pass, his opponent managed to catch him off guard, sending him flying into the dirt.
The crowd gasped, their hands covering their mouths as the prince's horse bucked and ran, leaving him in the dust.
You winced at the sight, it wasn't a good fall. He landed on his back, hard, and he lay still for a moment, his eyes squeezed shut as he caught his breath.
Only when the head maid cleared her throat did you realize you had been holding your breath.
"You are needed in the prince's tent, girl." she commanded, grabbing the jug from your hands and giving you a stern look.
You nodded, taking the tray of food and wine from the table and heading out of the box. Your heart was racing and your palms were sweaty, the thought of seeing Daemon after such a public humiliation was not something you were looking forward to.
The air was alive with the roar of the people, and the thumping of their feet sounded like thunder. They were chanting for the champion, something that would surely upset Daemon even more.
When you got to his tent, you hesitated, taking a moment to calm your nerves. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, letting the noise of the crowd fade away.
You stepped inside, finding him sitting in a chair, his shirt was off and his squire was cleaning a nasty gash on his arm.
"I'm sorry for intruding, Prince Daemon." You said, placing the tray of food on the table and pouring a cup of wine.
"Leave," he barked at his squire, his voice was gruff and his jaw was clenched.
"But my prince-" his squire protested, looking up from the wound he was treating.
"Now."
The boy left quickly, leaving you alone with the brooding prince.
"Would you like some wine, my lord?" You asked, your voice soft and timid, the last thing you wanted was to make him even more upset.
"No," he hissed, his voice sharp as a knife. "Bring me a new shirt."
You did as he asked, walking over to the large chest in the corner. It was full of clothes, the colors and fabrics were fine and beautiful. You selected a clean white shirt and brought it over to him, your eyes focused on the ground.
"Look at me," he commanded, his voice was quiet, but it was a demand, not a request.
You lifted your eyes, meeting his gaze. His eyes were cold, the same shade of violet that had captivated you was now a glare.
You did very well, my lord," You tried to reassure him, your voice soft and comforting.
"Is that meant to be comforting?" He asked, his tone was harsh and his expression was a scowl.
"Fine. I have never seen a worse display than the one you put on today," you said, the words slipping from your mouth before you could stop them.
He smiled, then laughed, his shoulders shaking as his amusement grew. Only his brother the king would ever talk to him this way, and here you were, a young low born northerner, mocking him. He didn't know why he enjoyed it coming from you, perhaps it was because your words meant nothing. You were no one, and he was the prince, and yet he found himself intrigued.
"That was quite a show, wasn't it?" He chuckled, the sound was hollow, not at all humorous.
"It was humiliating," you answered, the words escaping before you could stop them.
"Careful," he warned, his eyes narrowing. "You're lucky I find your insolence amusing."
"I thought it was why you had asked for me," you retorted, setting the shirt on the table and taking a step back.
He stood up from the chair, closing the space between the two of you. The air was thick with tension, his eyes boring into yours, his face was inches from yours.
"I didn't lose the tourney," he stated, his voice a low growl.
"You didn't win either," you countered, your cheeks flushed red, your heart racing in your chest.
He smiled, the gesture was almost predatory, he reached out and grabbed your face, his hands were rough and his grip was tight.
"You are quite the mouthy little wench," his words were a harsh whisper, his breath hot against your skin.
You didn't answer, afraid of what he would do if you spoke. He seemed to be enjoying himself, his eyes dancing with amusement as he stared at you.
"On your knees," he ordered, his tone demanding.
"My lord, I-" you protested, trying to pull away.
"Kneel," his voice was louder this time, and you knew that he was not going to repeat himself.
You hesitated for a moment, but he was the prince, and you couldn't disobey him. So you lowered yourself onto your knees, looking up at him, waiting for him to tell you what to do next.
"Is it true that northern girls can take a cock better than southern ones?" He asked, his hand still holding onto your chin.
You didn't know how to respond, his words making your cheeks burn. You could only stare at him, your mind reeling as you tried to figure out what he wanted.
He smiled, and the look in his eyes made your heart race. "Open your mouth, little northerner."
You did as he commanded, your eyes never leaving his. He pushed his thumb past your lips and slowly pressed down onto your tongue, rubbing it in circles before slowly dragging it out.
Your lips parted and your breathing became heavier as he traced his wet thumb across your bottom lip, his eyes fixated on the movement.
"Beautiful." He whispered before sliding his thumb back into your mouth, pushing it all the way into your throat, causing you to gag.
He pulled his thumb from your mouth and wiped the spit off on your cheek before grabbing you by the arms and lifting you up, turning you around and pushing you face first into the table.
"My lord," you gasped, struggling against his strong grip.
Daemon laughed at the look of shock on your face, his cock growing harder at the sight. "See? I knew you would make a great whore," he smirked, his words bringing a flush to your face.
He pulled your dress up, exposing your ass and legs. His hands were rough as he groped you, squeezing your thighs and your cheeks.
You pushed against him, trying to free yourself, but his grip was too strong. He pushed your thighs apart, his hand trailing up to your cunt, his fingers stroking your entrance, teasing you.
He softened at your defiance, a smirk crossing his lips. "I enjoy you, little northerner. Perhaps I should keep you," he mused.
He slid his finger into your cunt, his touch gentle and slow. You whimpered, pushing against him again.
"You would be my little northern flower," he murmured, his finger moving in and out of your cunt, the pace becoming quicker. "A blue rose in my garden."
You were ashamed of how aroused you were, the prince's touch was intoxicating, and you couldn't stop yourself from grinding your hips against his hand. You had never been with a man before and the pleasure he was giving you was beyond anything you had ever felt.
He slid another finger inside of you, his movements quick and rough. You moaned, biting your lip as you felt yourself getting closer to release.
He suddenly pulled away, the sudden absence of his touch made you whimper. He spun you around, knocking objects off the table and pinning you against it. Your hands went to his chest, pushing him back, but his grip was too strong, his eyes filled with lust.
"You're a feisty one," he whispered, his lips trailing down your neck, his hands gripping your ass, lifting you up and pressing you against his hips. "I guess it's true that the fires always burn hotter in the north,"
You shivered as he sucked and bit at the skin on your neck, his teeth scraping across your sensitive flesh, leaving red marks behind. You couldn't help but moan, the feeling was so intense, and the sounds were so sinful.
"My prince... I..." You stuttered, trying to find the words, but he cut you off with a kiss.
The feel of his hands on your body, his lips on yours, his cock hard against you, was intoxicating. You had never felt this way before, this desire, this want. He made you feel like you were drowning in the fire of his touch. He was a dragon, and he would take what he wanted.
You couldn't resist, you gave in, kissing him back, letting his tongue explore your mouth. He smelled of blood, dirt and sweat, a combination that shouldn't have been appealing, but was.
You could taste his lust on your lips, and it made you hungry for more. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pressing yourself closer to him, and he moaned, the sound rumbling in his chest. He was so much larger than you, so much stronger, and you felt so small in his arms.
His hand trailed down your chest, slowly untying the strings that held up your dress, his fingers tracing over the fabric, teasing you.
"Sweet little northern girl," he teased, his voice a low growl. "Are you going to give yourself to me?"
"Yes," you whispered, your cheeks flushed pink.
He kissed you again, his lips rough and demanding, his hand pushing your dress down, exposing your breasts. "You've never touched yourself before, have you?”
"No, my Prince," you whispered, your little hands curled into his chest, your nails digging into his skin.
"That's alright, I'll show you how it's done."
His hands slid down to your thighs, his fingers trailing up, his touch light and teasing. You let out a gasp as his fingers brushed over your cunt, touching a spot that made your body tremble.
"This little spot right here," he said, rubbing his thumb against it, "is the most sensitive part of your body. The more pressure, the better."
You nodded, gasping and moaning as he pressed his thumb against it, circling it. You could feel the heat rising within you, the pleasure building.
"Feels good doesn't it?" He whispered, his voice husky, his lips brushing against your ear.
"Y-yes," you stuttered, your hips moving, grinding against his hand.
He chuckled, the sound sending shivers down your spine.
"Do you like being my little whore, hmm?" He asked, his lips trailing down your neck, his kisses hot and wet.
"N-no," you moaned, pushing him back, trying to fight against him.
He laughed, his teeth nipping at your collarbone. "Liar," he whispered, his tongue licking over the marks he'd made.
His hands reaching down to his waist, undoing his breeches and pulling them off, his cock springing free. You gasped, your eyes wide as you took in the size of him.
He took your hand and placed it on his cock, his eyes burning into yours. "Go on, feel it," he whispered.
Your fingers curled around his cock, your small hand barely able to fit around him. You moved your hand, sliding it down the length of his shaft, his cock thick and pulsing in your hand. His skin was so warm and smooth, his breathing deepening as you began to move your hand up and down, stroking him slowly.
You could see the scars from battle stretched across his chest and torso. Small claw-like marks around his pectoral and a deep line that stretched down the left side of his rib cage. He was a hardened warrior, and you could tell by his scars, he had been through much to get where he was now.
You squeezed his cock, moving your hand up and down, his breathing deepening and his eyes growing hazy. He watched you, his gaze following every movement you made. You were starting to get more comfortable, taking pleasure in watching him, in making him feel good. You found the nerve to press the pad of your thumb against the tip, feeling the moisture leaking from him.
"Good girl," he praised, his voice low and husky.
You felt a wave of pride, knowing that you were pleasing him, that he liked the way you were touching him. You continued to stroke him, squeezing and pulling at his cock, watching his face, seeing the pleasure on his features.
He groaned, his eyes closing and his head tilting back, his breath catching. You could feel his cock throbbing in your hand, and you knew that he was getting close.
He let out a low growl and grabbed your wrist, halting your movements. "If you keep that up, I'm going to spill my seed all over this pretty little dress of yours," he said, his eyes full of heat.
"Is that so, my lord?" You asked, unable to hide the hint of amusement in your voice.
He grabbed your hips and pulled you under him, his body caging you, trapping you beneath him. He was breathing hard, his face flushed, his cock hard and resting on your stomach. His eyes burned into yours, his gaze intense, his hands gripping your hips, holding you steady.
You weren't talking back anymore, he could see the fear in your eyes, the hesitance, and that only made him want you more. His hand went to your throat, applying gentle pressure, a silent warning.
He could feel you trembling beneath him, and he tightened his grip, a primal, possessive urge rising within him. Your small hands pushing into his chest, clutching at his heated flesh.
"Open for me," he growled, his eyes fixed on yours.
You parted your thighs, allowing him to press closer to you. He growled, lifting your legs and wrapping them around his waist, his cock brushing against your cunt. He felt you tighten, your eyes widening with trepidation.
He chuckled, loving how terrified and eager you were at the same time. He gave you a moment, and then he slowly pushed into you. You whimpered, your nails digging into his back, your eyes closed, your face twisted in pain.
"Breathe," he said, rubbing his thumb against your cheek, "it will hurt for a just moment and then I will make you feel good,"
You nodded, taking a deep breath as you felt his cock hit your maidenhead.
"Are you ready, little northerner?" He whispered.
You gripped his forearms and nodded.
He pushed in slowly, breaking through your barrier. You cried out, the pain was intense and immediate. He groaned, the feel of your tight cunt was intoxicating.
He stayed still, giving you time to adjust. Your nails dug into his arms, leaving deep scratches in his flesh.
"Such a pretty, tight little cunt," he growled, nipping at your neck.
You kept your eyes closed, trying to focus on his words and not the pain. He began to move with slow, deep strokes, his cock stretching you, filling you. He was bigger than he felt in your hands, and you swore you could feel him everywhere.
He moaned, his hips rocking into you, his hand still on your throat, making you feel lightheaded. You looked up at him with wide eyes, your lips parted, your cheeks flushed. You felt so full of him, stretched open, the pain and pleasure mixing into one.
He watched your reaction with a smirk, amused by your shocked, satisfied expression. He was moving slowly, enjoying your warmth and the feel of your cunt clenching around him. He knew you were enjoying it, too, your eyes half-closed, a soft moan escaping your lip. Your small frame was arched to his body, your hands holding on to his neck.
You were surprised at his gentleness. You'd heard that the dragon prince liked to rough up women, but he was being as careful as if you were made of spun sugar. You felt so small and helpless underneath him, his large body nearly engulfing yours, and yet he wasn't hurting you. His touch was delicate, reverent. The way he spoke to you, calling you pet names, made your heart skip a beat.
You arched against him, a soft cry leaving your lips as his strokes got faster, deeper, hitting a place inside you that sent a sharp, hot pleasure through you.
"Does my little northerner like her prince's cock?" He said, a laugh in his voice, he began to pick up the pace, pounding into you.
You squeaked and pushed on his chest, the sensations becoming too much. He grabbed your hips and held you still, fucking you hard and fast, his eyes full of fire.
You felt your release rising up inside you, the tension in your body winding tighter and tighter. You could feel yourself clamping down on his cock, the pleasure almost too much, the sweet pain sending you over the edge.
He groaned at the sight of you coming undone, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as you shattered around him. He could feel the tension in your muscles as your climax tore through you. He slowed his movements, easing out the last waves of pleasure, drawing it out until you were a shuddering, moaning mess.
He was close behind, his thrusts erratic, his breathing harsh. He pulled out and spilled his seed across your stomach, his hips bucking. He pressed his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, a contented sigh leaving his lips. At least he had one victory today.
Your face was hot with shame, your mind unable to comprehend what just happened. The prince's seed was cooling on your stomach and chest, the reality of the situation finally sinking in. Your hands went to your face, covering it as tears came to your eyes, you had never felt so good and so embarrassed at once.
He moved off of you, his eyes locked on yours, a smirk crossing his lips. He looked satisfied, his gaze wandering over your body, lingering on the wetness between your legs, the mess he'd made of you. He tossed you a cloth to clean yourself with. You wiped his seed off your skin, watching him dress, his blonde hair still braided back, his purple eyes full of lust and desire. He was a warrior, a dragon, he was beauty and strength, power and masculinity. He was everything you wanted and feared, a beast who could destroy you.
He gave you a side glance, his eyes full of amusement. "You may go," he said, shooing you away with a hand.
Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, as you took a shaky breath. You stood up, gathering the pieces of your dress and your underclothes. Your legs were wobbly, and you felt weak, sore, and full of shame.
"Yes, my prince," you said quietly, looking at the floor, unable to meet his eyes.
He chuckled, the sound of his voice making you shiver. "Don't be so timid, little northerner. This is the beginning, not the end," he said, his words sending a jolt of fear and excitement through you.
He was right, this was only the beginning. You were his servant, and he could do with you as he pleased. He would have you come to him whenever he chose, on the warmest summer nights and the coldest winter days. He would take what he wanted, when he wanted.
He was a dragon, and his will was as strong as his blood.
And deep down, you knew you would enjoy it. He was the perfect thing to distract you from the mundanity of your life, the endless monotony of serving others.
Perhaps the Red Keep wouldn't be so terrible, not if it meant serving him.
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kisskuni · 5 months ago
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pet names
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↳ pet names that the demon brothers like to call you by. [all brothers x gn!reader]
tags: just fluff! + pet names lol. ‘doll’ is used once, i wouldn’t consider it feminine but take it as you will. otherwise gn :)
notes: first fic on this blog heheh. reblogs are super appreciated, please and thank you <3
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lucifer ━━━
a gloved hand runs through black hair, the eldest brother glaring at the paperwork covering his desk. you wonder for a brief moment if he thinks the look he’s giving it will force it away.
“stressed?” you ask him, a teasing tone to your voice.
he hums in discontent. “something like that.”
you straighten from your spot leaned against the door frame and walk over to him. your hands come up to his shoulders and rub at the muscles there, hoping to bring him some sore of relief.
“need any help?” you ask.
“i’m alright, darling, but thank you.” though still clearly stressed, he offers you a small smile.
mammon ━━━
“you will not believe what i just got!”
mammon walks into your room previously unannounced, dorky smile painting his face. he holds up two slips of paper, waving them in front of your face. it takes you a moment to read the writing.
“ooh, are those tickets? for that movie i wanted to see?”
he beams at your excitement. “i’m the best.”
“yeah, you are,” you smile and reach for the tickets in his hands. “thank you so much.”
“anything for you, doll.”
leviathan ━━━
“hey, can you—“ levi speaks to you, but frowns at his game. “no, i can’t heal you. there are two other characters who can.”
you watch him curiously, watch as he rolls his eyes at the person he’s playing with. “what’s up?”
he takes one side of his headset off. “i’m sorry. can you grab me my water? it’s on my nightstand.”
“oh, sure.” you reach over from where you’re tucked comfortably into his bedsheets and grab the water bottle on his nightstand. “here.”
he turns around him his chair to grab the water bottle you toss at him. he catches it easily and smiles at you. “thank you, honey.”
satan ━━━
“are you comfy?”
you sit upright with a small yelp. you look around, gathering your thoughts back. what was supposed to be a quick lie-down on the couch in satan’s room turned into a nap, apparently.
“i- uhm. yeah.” you answer quickly. one hand comes up to rub the sleep from your eyes.
“you can rest if you’re tired, my love. i have some reading i wanted to catch up on anyway.” satan says, moving to sit beside you.
you take a deep breath and ponder the offer for a moment. instead of responding, you simply lay back down and use his lap as a pillow. he’ll get the idea eventually.
asmodeus ━━━
the squeal asmo let out was beyond exstatic. he clasped his hands together, smiling ear to ear.
“ah, i’m so excited.” he said, running off to some corner of his room.
“is it really that exciting?”
asmo frowns at you rather dramatically. he feigns a look of offense and continues to his closet, you following a few steps behind.
“oh, i love how this would look on you, cutie.”
you smile fondly at the nickname and continue to watch as he picks out various clothes for you to try on.
beelzebub ━━━
“y’know… doesn’t matter how strong i am, you’re a demon and i really don’t think i’m capable of spotting you at the gym.” you say.
you know he likes to work out, but him lifting weights worried you sometimes.
“it’s alright. i promise i’ll be fine, sweetheart.”
you glare at him. you know he will be, but a little voice in the back of your head won’t let you stop worrying about him. you suppose its a good thing.
belphegor ━━━
“good morning,” you tease, nodding toward the alarm clock that read 4:38 PM. “nice of you to rise so early.”
he grumbles at you, wiping sleep from his eye. he takes one of the pillows he’s been snuggled up with and tosses it at you, playful smile making its way onto his face.
you bat the pillow away, smiling back at him.
“you are so mean.” you claim, though still smiling.
“mhm. whatever you say, lovely.”
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urfriendlywriter · 5 months ago
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25 "I'm in love with you and I'm scared to lose you" prompts!
(feel free to use!!! plsplspls tag me I'd love to readd. especially 3, 9, 11, 14, 19 and 24 ahhh<33 | @urfriendlywriter )
"can i.. hold your hand?"
"i trust you, [name]." ✿
"i come offering hugs :) a lott of hugs"
"i feel stupid, why do u make me grin like a spineless fool whenever i am around you?" >\\\<
them staring at you from across the room and getting flustered when u stare at them back <AAAAAH3
"I'll live for you, love."
"I'll love you right in all universe"
"... you trusted in me when everything else was pointed against me.."
them tenderly tucking a hair behind ur ear (my c. ai be like >\\\<)
listening to their heartbeat while laying on their chest. :')
a soothing, and tender "come here, sweetheart"
"you're not alone.. I.." they cup their lover's face in their hands, "I'm here for you, and I'll always be."
"what else do i need, when i have my world in my arms?"
leaning forehead against each other's [AAAHHH is my toaster waterproof-]
"what will i do without you? thank you-"
^ "no, thank YOU, [nickname]. thank you for coming into my life." *cries in me when??*
"you.. you're a dream." (rip my heart)
^ "no, my love. you are the dream and I the lucky one to be living this dream with you" imagine them saying this while their lips hover the other's, before giving in.
them taking your hand and placing it on their chest, "feel this heartbeat? this is how much effect you have over me."
"i don't have to search for truth when you say you love me, i can already see it all in ur eyes." [bawling into my pillows]
a sigh of release when they're finally in your arms like they longed for it all day !!!!!
laying with your back to their chest!!! their hands around your waist (the way I'd MELTT so fast)
"I am in love with you." ".... we've been together for the past several years." "that's what. What are you doing to me, darling?"
"i never stopped falling in love with you."
lazy kisses, softly sighing and gasping into each other's mouths.!! [me when yall. its ab time ffs.]
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pedrospatch · 1 year ago
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strawberry
Daddy Dom! Joel Miller x Sub! Female Reader
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summary: You feel ashamed for using your safe word with Joel during a session—he assures you you’re his good girl no matter what.
warnings/tags: 18+ only, MINORS DNI. (TW) daddy kink, lots of dd/lg lifestyle elements, reader is collared (day collar) age gap that is self indulgent, reader is mid to late 20’s and Joel is in his 50’s but tweak that to your imaginations if you like. SMUT; p in v sex, rough sex (that reader asks to try), spanking, possible overstimulation (if you squint??) Joel basically fucks reader too much and too hard. USE OF SAFE WORD. aftercare and lots of fluff, references to a pop culture film that i haven’t seen in forever but it’s fine. PLEASE BE MINDFUL OF TAGS AND WARNINGS. if this isn’t your thing, no worries just scroll on by.
MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY, READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION.
word count: 2.4k
a/n: this is totally self indulgent, all for me as someone who has dabbled in the lifestyle before. if this is not your thing, no problem at all but kindly keep any negative comments to yourself. huge shoutout to the lovely @swiftispunk for inspiring this with the snippets of her own upcoming series that i am oh so excited for, darling han thank you for not only inspiring this, but for listening to me talk about it and encouraging it! and also to sweet mya @cavillscurls because truth be told her own fic brought back so many memories of a time in my life where i was genuinely so happy, in love, and felt safe with a partner. okay, i am gonna run away to the gym now to listen to 1989 tv (again) and pretend posting this is not nerve wracking as hell.
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He’s fucked you plenty of times before.
But never like this. No, never, ever like this.
He’s relentless.
His thrusts are coming quicker, sloppier, harsher.
It doesn’t hurt, but it’s intense. Too intense.
Joel Miller is truly testing your limits tonight.
No, he was pushing you past your limits.
Because that’s what you’d asked him to do.
“Alright, sweet girl. This is the last time I’m gonna ask you before we get started. Are you absolutely, one hundred—no, one thousand percent sure that you wanna try this out tonight?” he had asked you beforehand, skimming the strap of your light pink, lace lingerie with his index finger, his feathery soft touch sending a plesant little chill down the length of your spinal column. Of all the sets you owned, it had to be Joel’s absolute favorite. Normally, it was him who would pick out what you would wear, but tonight he’d decided to let you choose for yourself and oh, you did not disappoint. He fucking adored you in the color pink; loved how sickeningly sweet, precious, and innocent you appeared in the hue as you did the filthiest things to him, with him. When you nodded eagerly in reply to his question, a sigh fell from his lips, the doubt written all over his face as he remarked, “I really don’t think you’re ready. I think we should wait just a little a while longer.”
“I’m ready,” you’d insisted, stubbornly. “I promise. I wouldn’t be asking for it if I thought I wasn’t. But I am, I promise, promise, promise I am.”
“Daddy knows what’s best for you, sweetheart—”
Fingers curled around his bicep, you’d batted your eyelashes, giving him those eyes that brought him down to his knees for you a lot more often than he cared to admit, those eyes that made Joel feel like he was learning his role all over again, despite over two decades of experience under his belt. He used to pride himself for his ability to stand firm against pouting lips, fluttering lashes, and pleading gazes. And then you come along and suddenly it’s like he is in his thirties again and he’s navigating this kind of dynamic for the first time. Even after a year and a half with you, he’s still trying to figure out how to completely unwrap himself from your little finger.
“Please? Pretty please with a cherry on top?”
Christ, you made things so goddamn difficult.
“You really think you’re gonna be able to handle it? You think you’re gonna be able to handle me when I get real rough with you, baby? Hm?”
Without missing a beat, you replied, “Yes, Daddy. I can handle it. I know I can.”
You had been so certain that you could.
Confident, even. So confident that when he began going over the rules and reminded you to use your safe word if you needed him to stop, you’d giggled and stated, “I’ve never needed to use it before and I don’t plan on using it tonight.”
Oh, how very wrong you had been about it all.
You’d overestimated yourself, and underestimated Joel. Severely.
His hips snap roughly into yours without an ounce of mercy, over and over, again and again. Beads of perspiration start trailing their way down the sides of his face, the tip of his nose. His chest is flushed, red, and also slicked with a thin sheen of sweat.
You’ve already shattered, unraveled, come undone all over his cock several times—every time with his granted permission, of course. Because you knew better than to come without Daddy’s permission.
Your cunt is swollen, sensitive, too sensitive and at a point where it could start aching if he doesn’t let up soon. However, it seems like Joel’s only getting rougher and rougher as he chases another release.
“Joel—Daddy,” you manage to correct yourself at the very last second through a slew of frantic little gasps for air. “Daddy, please! Daddy please—”
His large hand tightens around both of your wrists pinned to the mattress above your head. Surely he must think you’re begging him for more, when the reality is you’re about to start begging him to stop because it’s just too much and you can’t handle it; but there’s a part of you that doesn’t want to stop, the part of you that doesn’t want to disappoint the man who means the whole, entire world to you.
The man you belonged to, the man you loved.
Even through the haze, you try telling yourself that it’s all mind over matter, mind over matter, mind—
“Stop,” you whine, squirming underneath him. “I—can’t take it anymore, Daddy, I can’t take it—!”
Releasing your wrists, Joel pulls himself out of you and you breathe out in relief, until he flips you over onto your stomach without warning. You let out an audibly loud gasp when his hands reach down and take your hips, pulling them up off his bed, putting you on your hands and knees. He brings down one of his hands on your ass in a stinging slap. “That is just too bad, ‘cause Daddy ain’t done with you yet, darlin’ girl. Not even close to bein’ done with you.” Wrapping his other hand around his base, he grins to himself as he glides the head of his cock up and down your slick folds. When it grazes your clit, you jerk forward, away from him, and he tuts, bringing you back to him, his fingers digging into the pillow soft flesh of your hips. “Oh no baby, you ain’t goin’ anywhere.”
“But Daddy, I just can’t—”
You’re cut off by your own cry when you feel Joel’s length stretching your walls all over again. It’s just too much.
And you really, really can’t.
He leans over you and presses his lips to your ear. “You asked for this, didn’tcha? Asked to be fucked like a big girl, huh?” He bucks forward into you, eliciting another strangled cry followed by a string of pathetic whimpers. Bringing his palm down in a second strike, he demands, “Answer me when I’m takin’ to you. You wanted this, said that you could handle Daddy bein’ rough with you, ain’t that right now?”
“Strawberry.” You say the word so quietly, you can hardly hear it over the ringing in your ears.
Joel spanks you for a third time, in the exact same spot—so hard, there was simply no way you would wake up without a mark in the morning. “I need’ya to speak up. You’re such a big girl after all—”
“Strawberry!” You grasp fistfuls of bedsheets and the signal for it all to end tears itself from the back of your throat. “Strawberry, Joel! Strawberry!”
It’s only a millisecond that he freezes, if that.
“Fuckin’ hell,” Joel curses under his breath, pulling out of you. The bed shifts as he climbs off of it and scrambles to pull on his sweatpants before he’s at your side—you’re still on your hands and knees, an unmistakable look of panic on your face. He puts a gentle hand on your back. “Baby, are you alright?”
Your heart is pounding, your breathing labored but you manage a small, tight nod of your head. “I-I’m fine. I just—” Stopping, you grip the sheets tighter, warm tears brimming your eyes. Shame over what you’ve just done is already creeping in and sinking into your bones.
“Are you hurt, sweetheart? Did I hurt you?”
Joel’s voice is calm, but you can hear the concern that laces his tone.
“No.” Your own voice is small. “No. You didn’t hurt me.”
“Is it alright if I move you?” he asks. When you nod your head, he reaches out for you and helps you to sit on the side of the bed. Dropping to his knees in front of you, he takes your hands and his and feels his stomach sink when he realizes they’re ice cold; he begins rubbing them between his own to warm them up. “Baby if I hurt you, you need to tell m—”
“I promise, you didn’t hurt me,” you reassure him, swallowing the thickness rising in the back of your throat. You clock the skepticism in his dark brown eyes and a tear slips out, rolls down your face, and splatters onto your bare thigh. “I’m not lying, Joel. I swear.” Tugging one of your hands out of his, you reach up and instinctively clasp it around the blue sapphire pendant hanging from the delicate, gold chain around your neck—he’d presented you with his birthstone last year, not only as a symbol of his ownership of you, but also as a beautiful reminder of your commitment to one another. “You believe me, don’t you? You believe I’m telling the truth?”
Joel’s expression softens. “‘Course I do, baby.” He cups the side of your face gently, brushing away a second teardrop with his thumb. “But I’d really like to know what happened so I can figure out how to best help, okay? Can you tell me what happened?”
Embarrassed, you try turning your head away, but he holds your cheek in his hand, gentle but firm.
“S’okay. You can talk to me,” he encourages softly, his gaze meeting yours once again. “Tell me.”
“It was just too much,” you mumble, meekly. “And too intense.” Heat floods your face as you admit to him, “You were right. I just wasn’t—I wasn’t ready for that yet.”
In an effort to lighten your mood, Joel lightly gives your cheek a delicate pinch and chuckles.
“Daddy’s got that real annoyin’ habit of bein’ right ‘bout a lot of things, don’t he?”
“I’m sorry.” Your bottom lip quivers. “I’m so sorry.”
His smile falters. “Sorry for what?”
“For using the safe word—”
Joel’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Y’know you ain’t supposed to apologize for needin’ to use your safe word, right? That ain’t how it works, darlin’.”
Dropping your necklace, you place your hand over his on your cheek. “But I feel bad,” you confess. “It makes me feel like—like I let you down, you know? And that’s the last thing I want to do. I just wanted to be really good for you.”
“Oh baby.” Joel lifts himself from the floor. He sits on the bed and pulls you onto his lap, brushing his lips against your temple. “You are such a good girl for me, sweetheart.”
“But I couldn’t take it,” you sniff. “I had to stop.”
“And that’s okay,” he assures you. He wraps you in his arms and gives your body a gentle squeeze. “It ain’t nothin’ to be ashamed ‘bout. You’re still really new to a lot of this stuff, y’know? S’why I told you I didn’t think you were ready.”
“I should’ve listened to you.”
He winks. “You should always listen to Daddy.”
You offer him a tiny, watery smile. “I know.”
“And say we try this again one day and it’s just not somethin’ you like or that makes you feel good—or maybe you never wanna try it again at all,” he says with a nonchalant shrug. “That’s okay too. You are still my good girl no matter what—my perfect girl. Always. You understand me?”
“Really? You promise?”
Joel holds up his pinky.
“Oh, you’re being really serious,” you tease him.
“Sure as hell am, darlin’.”
You lock your finger around his and he pulls you in for a sweet kiss.
“I love you, Joel,” you murmur against his lips. You giggle again when he clears his throat and smacks your ass lightly, playfully. “I love you, Daddy.”
“I love you too, baby.” Joel pulls away and touches the tip of his nose to yours. “How’s ‘bout we get in the bath and get all cleaned up? Hm?”
“A bath?” You instantly perk up. “With bubbles?”
“With bubbles. And I’ll even let you throw in one of those smelly ball things you fuckin’ love so much.”
You swat at his chest. “Hey! My bath bombs smell really good, thank you very much!”
Joel doesn’t particularly like emerging from a bath smelling like a petunia, but for you, he’s more than happy to bathe in a sea of them, glitter and all.
You trace his collarbone with your index finger.
“Daddy? After our bath can we just cuddle in bed? Maybe watch a movie?” He raises an eyebrow and you smile sheepishly, adding, “Please?”
“‘Course. Pick any movie you want, sweetheart.”
“And can we have ice cream while we watch too?”
He pins you with a stern look. “Alright, now you’re just pushin’ it and takin’ advantage.”
You jut your lower lip. “Please, Daddy?”
There’s no arguing with that, not tonight.
Joel decides to let you have your way. “Alright.”
The two of you spend quite some time in the bath; normally a bath together ends with him inside you all over again, but tonight, all he’s doing is running a soapy wash cloth with your favorite shower gel—japanese cherry blossom—all over your body as he sits behind you, lips pressed against your ear. Joel washes you slowly, carefully, and all the while he’s whispering sweet, tender praise.
My good girl.
My perfect girl.
I’m s’proud of you.
I’m the luckiest man in the whole world.
After the bath, once you’re both dried and dressed in comfortable clothes—him in a clean pair of gray sweatpants and you in nothing but his t-shirt, Joel gives you the remote and instructs you to pick out a movie to watch.
“Make yourself real comfortable, baby,” he says to you, kissing the top of your head. “I’ll be back with that ice cream.”
You shoot him a hopeful glance. “Strawberry?”
“You tryin’ to be funny with me, darlin’?”
“No! That’s just my favorite flavor, silly.”
Joel grins to himself as he leaves the bedroom.
He knows that. Of course he knows that.
It’s why he always keeps a pint of it in his freezer.
You hop into bed and pull the blankets around you as your scan through the guide for a movie—you’d just decided on The Notebook when Joel appears again, a bowl and two spoons in his hands.
“You picked The Notebook again, didn’t you?” he asks without even looking at the flat screen that’s mounted on his wall over the fireplace.
“You said I could pick any movie I wanted.”
“Was just hopin’ you’d pick one we haven’t seen a thousand times,” he chuckled, sliding into his bed next to you. Joel places the bowl of strawberry ice cream in his lap and hands you a spoon. “C’mere, my sweet girl. Come closer.”
You snuggle up to him, and the two of you dig into the frozen dessert as the movie begins to play.
“Baby?” Joel speaks after a while, just as Allie and Noah share a passionate kiss in the pouring rain.
“Hm?” you ask, your fixed eyes on the flat screen, your mouth full of ice cream.
“You sure you’re okay?”
Swallowing, you look up at Joel, meeting his gaze.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” you answer honestly.
“‘Cause if there’s anythin’ else I can do for you…”
You purse your lips together and let out a tiny hum as you mull it over for a moment.
“You can hold me closer?” you finally suggest.
Joel shifts in his spot. “I can definitely do that—”
You stop him and point to the empty bowl.
“After you go and get us some more ice cream?”
He exhales an amused snort through his nose and shuffles out of bed, taking the bowl with him.
“Don’t get so used to bossin’ Daddy around,” Joel warns you playfully over his shoulder.
“Too late.”
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divider credit to @saradika 🍓
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