#they sparkle and crackle and do nothing

[thatmooncake]

2. lighter or matches?

Matches!

[rafayelxsylusho]

How do the LADS men react when they catch you reading smut. 🫣 Part 3

We still had some time to vote but I think my man is going to win this one.

Enjoy!

TW:Smut

Part 1 (Xavier)

Part 2 (Caleb)

Part 4 (Zayne)

Part 5 (Rafayel)

Vote for the next LI at the end of the story ❤️

As you settle into the plush comfort of Sylus' bed, your fingers dance across the screen of your phone, pulling up the controversial book that had been the talk of the office. The one your female coworkers had gushed over in hushed whispers, their cheeks flushed and eyes gleaming with a sparkle. You had to know what all the fuss was about.

As you delve deeper into the digital pages, your eyebrows arch higher with each passing paragraph. The book is even more explicit than you'd been led to believe, the author leaving very little to the imagination. You find yourself squirming slightly on the luxurious bed linens, a warmth taking over your cheeks that has nothing to do with the crackling fireplace nearby.

When you reach chapter ten, the scene unfolding before your eyes is downright scandalous. The protagonist and her lover are locked in the throes of ecstasy atop a roaring motorcycle. The vivid detail and raw, primal nature of their fucking is intense, the author paints a picture so vivid it's almost impossible not to feel the heat of the moment yourself.

As the scene unfolds in vivid detail on your phone screen, a familiar but not unwelcome heat begins to pool low in your belly. The author's graphic descriptions of the lovers' frenzied passion ignites something within you. Before long, you find yourself squirming on the bed, thighs clenching together as a tingling ache builds between them.

Your mind starts to wander, the fictional couple's encounter blurring with memories of your own encounters with Sylus. You picture his strong hands roaming over your curves, his kisses trailing down your neck and chest. In your mind, you replace the faceless man on the motorcycle with Sylus himself.

Unable to resist the urge any longer, your hand drifts down to the waistband of your pajamas, your breath hitches as your fingers brush against the slick folds of your pussy.

You know you shouldn't be doing this, but the ache between your legs demands satisfaction. Lost in the lusty fantasy you touch yourself, your own touch a poor imitation of the passionate lovemaking in the book. 

Your moans fill the spacious bedroom and you drop your phone onto the plush bedsheets, the device still open to the obscene motorcycle scene that sparked your desire. Your fingers dance over your folds, stroking your sensitive clit with increasing urgency as you picture Sylus pinning you beneath him on his own roaring motorcycle.

Two fingers plunge deep inside your core, pumping furiously as you imagine Sylus pounding into you, his powerful hips driving forward with relentless, hungry need. The sound of your breathing mingles with the imagined roar of the motorcycle engine, spurring you on as you chase your rapidly building climax.

Your fingers pump faster, plunging deeper, as you picture Sylus reaching up to secure his sleek black helmet over his head. The dark visor doesn't completely obscure his eyes and you can feel the intensity of his gaze boring into you. He leans in close, his hot breath fogging up the inside of the helmet as he growls, "Hold on tight, kitten. I'm going to fuck you so hard, you'll forget your own name."

With a cry of ecstasy, you come undone, your walls clenching rhythmically around your plunging fingers as a wave of pleasure crashes over you. Your body writhes on the bed, the silken sheets tangled around you as you ride out the aftershocks of your climax.

Panting softly, you slowly come back to yourself, a satisfied grin playing about your lips. The ache between your thighs temporarily sated. The phone screen glows, the motorcycle scene frozen in time, a testament to the sinful fantasy that brought you to such a state.

You close your eyes, the events of the day, the provocative novel, and your fantasy of Sylus fade into the background as you surrender to the pull of exhaustion. Your breathing evens out, falling into a soft, steady rhythm as you curl up beneath the plush blankets of Sylus' bed, completely at peace.

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You stir from your sleep, the beep of the alarm clock piercing through the silence of the bedroom. As you blink you become acutely aware of a firm, warm body pressed against your back. A muscular arm is draped over your waist, holding you close to a broad, bare chest that rises and falls with each soft, steady breath. Glancing over your shoulder, you find yourself face to face with Sylus.

You remain still, not wanting to disturb his peaceful sleep, and take a moment to appreciate his devastating good looks. The grayish white hair, usually so perfectly styled, is now slightly disheveled. His brows, normally arched in a state of contemplation or challenge, are now smooth and undisturbed. Even in sleep, there's a raw, masculine beauty to Sylus that sets your heart racing.

As you study him, you can't help but remember the vivid, intimate fantasy that played out in your mind the night before. The way his strong hands gripped your hips as he took you hard and fast on his motorcycle. You feel a fresh wave of heat pool between your thighs at the recollection.

Suddenly, Sylus stirs, his hold on your waist tightening. His voice, low and gravelly from sleep, rumbles in your ear. "Morning, kitten," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your earlobe. "Sleep well?"

You press a quick, chaste kiss to Sylus' lips, feeling the ghost of your intense fantasy linger in the fleeting touch. A rosy blush stains your cheeks as you pull away.

"Mm, yes, I did," you reply softly, slipping out of his embrace and rising from the bed, the cool air of the bedroom kisses your skin. As you gather your belongings and begin to ready yourself for work, you can't help but sneak glances at Sylus as he stirs and stretches like a panther. The sheets pool around his waist, revealing his toned torso and the tantalizing V that disappears beneath the fabric. You swallow hard, your mouth suddenly dry, and quickly avert your gaze.

"Well, I should get going," you say, slipping into your shirt and buttoning it up with trembling fingers. "Can't be late for my shift today, I have an important meeting with Jenna"

You hesitate for a moment, feeling Sylus' intense gaze following your every move. You take a deep breath and turn to face him, your blush still evident on your cheeks. "I'll... I'll see you later, Sy" you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

You turn to leave and are almost out his bedroom door when you hear him call you.

"Miss hunter"

You freeze mid-step and slowly turn to face him, your eyes widening as you follow the direction of his pointed finger.

You hurry over to the bedside table, snatching up your phone and clutching it to your chest like a guilty secret.

As you turn to make your escape, Sylus' deep, smooth voice stops you in your tracks once more. "Pick you up after work," he states. It's phrased as a question, but the steel in his tone makes it clear that he expects an affirmative answer.

"I... yes, alright," you manage to stammer out. "After work." You can feel Sylus' gaze burning into your back as you hurry towards the bedroom door once again, your phone clutched tightly in your hand.

As you step out into the hallway, you can't shake the feeling that Sylus knows exactly what you got up to last night. The way he looked at you, the knowing glint in his eyes. You shake your head, trying to erase the unsettling thought, and fasten your steps towards the front door.

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You step out of the Hunters Association building, your heart already racing at the thought of seeing Sylus again. As you round the corner, your eyes fall upon the very object that had dominated your lustful fantasy the night before, Sylus' sleek, black motorcycle.

And there he stands, leaning casually against the seat with one muscular thigh crossed over the other. He looks every inch the dangerous, alluring man you know him to be. His leather jacket and pants hug his powerful frame.

As if sensing your presence, Sylus turns his head, piercing crimson eyes locking onto yours. A slow, sensual smile spreads across his face, and he straightens up, taking a step towards you. "Ready to go, kitten?"

You nod, your voice catching slightly in your throat as you reply, "Yes, I'm ready." You reach for your helmet, your fingers brushing against the smooth, glossy surface. However, before you can secure it on your head, Sylus' large, warm hands enclose your own, stilling your movements.

He steps closer, his chest nearly grazing your breasts as he leans in, his helmet tucked under one muscular arm. His eyes bore into yours, a glimmer of something dark and hungry flickering in their depths. "Before you do," he murmurs, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine, "would you like to use my visor to apply your lipstick, just like you did the other day?"

The memories of that day come rushing back, the way you had applied your lipstick using his visor as a mirror, your fingers trembling slightly as you did so. The way he had looked at you, his eyes burning into yours, filled with a hunger that made your knees weak.

The vivid fantasies that played out in your mind last night flash before your eyes, and you know you can't bring yourself to do it this time. Shaking your head, you take a step back, putting a little distance between your body and Sylus. "No, not this time," you murmur, your cheeks flushing hotly at the admission. You can't help but glance at the helmet tucked under his arm. "I'd rather not," you add, your voice barely above a whisper as you meet Sylus' intense gaze. The air between you feels charged, electric, as if Sylus can sense the forbidden thoughts swirling in your mind. You swallow hard, tearing your eyes away from him.

Releasing your hands, you reach up and quickly secure your helmet on your head, the plastic shell a barrier between you and Sylus' knowing eyes. The visor fogs up slightly as you take a shaky breath, trying to compose yourself. "We should get going.

Sylus smirks, the expression turning wicked as he watches you squirm under his gaze. He knows, there's no doubt about it. Somehow, some way, he discovered your open phone and read the steamy scene that had left you so hot and bothered. A thrill of excitement and nerves runs through you as Sylus settles his own helmet over his head, the sleek black visor hiding his expression but not the predatory gleam in his eyes. He knows, and now he's playing with you, toying with the knowledge of your secret desire.

A fresh wave of heat rushing to your cheeks as you watch Sylus swing his leg over the motorcycle seat. With a newfound determination, you hitch up your skirt slightly and swing your own leg over the bike, settling yourself behind Sylus.

A slow smile spreads across your face beneath your helmet as you wrap your arms around his waist, your hands splaying over the firm expanse of his abdomen. Two can play this game, you think to yourself, a sense of anticipation coiling in your belly. Sylus may have discovered your secret, but he doesn't know the full extent of the hunger that consumes you.

As the darkness grows and the city lights start to twinkle to life, a sudden boldness takes hold of you. Without warning, you slide your hands lower, your fingers teasing along the waistband of Sylus' leather pants. You feel the firm, muscular flesh beneath the leather, the heat of his skin seeping through the material. Your touch is light, almost feather like, but purposeful in its intent.

His body tenses beneath your wandering hands, and you feel the motorcycle wobble slightly as he tightens his grip on the handlebars. The knowledge that your touch affects him, that you can unsettle the usually unflappable man, sends a thrill of power rushing through you.

Spurred on by this sense of control, you allow your hands to dip lower, your fingers playing with the button of his pants. You trace the line of the zipper, feeling the hard bulge that begins to form beneath your touch. The knowledge that you can arouse him so easily, that your desire for him is reciprocated, makes your head spin with excitement.

Your breath grows shallow, fogging up the interior of your helmet as your hands continue their exploration. The motorcycle rumbles on beneath you, the vibrations adding to the building heat between your thighs. You're playing with fire, but you can't bring yourself to care. You want to burn, to consume Sylus with the same desperate hunger that had you coming undone in his bed.

"How much longer until we get home Sy?"

"Not much longer now, kitten. Just a few more miles to go." The motorcycle speeds up slightly, the wind whipping around you as you race through the darkening streets.

But you are not able to stop yourself and you reach down and slowly unzip his leather pants, the metal teeth parting ways to reveal the straining bulge beneath.

"Y/N" a note of warning laced into the command. But you ignore him, your fingers already delving inside to cup the hard, hot length of him through the fabric of his underwear.

The motorcycle surges forward with a roar, Sylus apparently as eager to get home as you are. The speedometer needle sweeps past the legal limit, the city lights become a stream of glowing lines.

As the motorcycle rolls to a stop at the red light, you waste no time in freeing Sylus from the confines of his underwear. Your fingers dip inside, wrapping around the hot, throbbing length of him, pulling him out into the cool night air. Sylus inhales sharply, his hips jerking slightly as your hand closes around his flesh.

Before the light can change, you're already working on him, your palm pressing his hard cock against the firm plane of his abdomen. Slowly, torturously, you run your thumb over the sensitive head, circling the tip in maddeningly gentle strokes. You keep your touch light, mindful of the delicate skin.

"Kitten" he grits out as the light turns green, and the motorcycle lurches forward again.

“Keep your eyes on the road Sylus, I don’t want us to crash.” 

His grip tightens on the handlebars, knuckles turning white as he tries to focus on the road ahead. "Fuck, Y/N," he grits out through clenched teeth, the curse echoing in the confines of the helmet. "Keep this up and we'll end up in a ditch."

You can feel the bead of precum forming at the tip of his cock, the slick fluid allowing your fingers to glide more easily over the swollen head. You take full advantage, rolling and kneading the sensitive flesh between your fingertips until Sylus is gritting out a low groan.

You smear the precum over your fingers, using it as lubricant as you drag your hand slowly down the thick shaft. You can feel it throb against your palm, Sylus' body responding eagerly to your touch. The motorcycle swerves slightly as Sylus struggles to maintain control, his hips rocking involuntarily into your stroking hand.

As he brings the motorcycle to a halt, you glance around, realizing that you're not parked outside his home. Instead, he's stopped in a secluded, isolated spot on the outskirts of the city. A single lamp post flickers weakly, casting a circle of light that illuminates the deserted parking lot. Beyond that, the only light comes from the pale glow of the moon

You're about to ask Sylus where he's brought you when you feel his hand closing around your wrist. In the dim light, you can see the intense, almost feral look in his eyes as he turns to face you.

"Sylus, where are we?" you ask, a hint of confusion in your voice. The air feels charged with tension, the night pressing in around you, isolating you from the rest of the world.

Sylus doesn't answer right away. Instead, he leans in close and he murmurs, "Somewhere private, where I can finish what you started without any interruptions."

You know you've pushed Sylus to the brink, teased him until he's teetering on the edge of control. And now, in this secluded spot, he's going to make you pay for it.

Sylus pulls back slightly, his hands moving to the straps of your helmet. With deft fingers, he unbuckles it and lifts it off your head, tossing it carelessly to the ground.

"Get off the bike, Y/N," Sylus commands, his voice a low, husky rumble that makes your toes curl in your boots. "Now."

You find yourself moving on autopilot, Sylus watches intently as you swing your leg over the bike seat, the moonlight casting a silver glow across your skin. The moment your feet touch the ground, he's off the motorcycle too, moving with a predatory grace that makes your heart race. He takes a step towards you, then another, until he's standing before you, so close that you can feel the heat radiating off his body.

His hands come up to grip your waist, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he pulls you against him. You can feel every hard plane and angle of his body, the evidence of his desire, an unmistakable bulge pressing against your belly.

"Did you think teasing me like that would go unpunished? I'm going to make you pay for every inch of skin you touched, for every moan I had to swallow as I tried to keep this bike on the road."

"I won't be able to eat your sweet little cunt like I want to while you sit on my bike, kitten. Not with my helmet on." His hands tighten on your hips, fingers digging into your flesh as he grinds his erection against you. "But don't worry, I'll leave that pleasure for another day. Tonight, I need to be inside you, now."

With that promise, Sylus spins you around and bends you over the motorcycle seat, your breasts pressing against the leather. He kicks your legs apart, his hands sliding up the backs of your thighs to grip your hips. Then he hikes up your skirt, exposing you to the cool night air.

He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, the fabric stretching taut for a moment before giving way. He drags them down slowly, the cool air kissing your heated skin as he bares you completely.

"Lift your feet," Sylus orders, his voice leaving no room for disobedience. You comply, lifting one foot and then the other, allowing him to remove your underwear entirely. He balls up the delicate lace, tucking them into his back pocket as a trophy of sorts.

With your most intimate place now exposed, Sylus leans down, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. You can feel the thick, hard length of him pressing insistently against your ass. Your body is on fire, every nerve ending screaming for his touch, for the feel of him inside you.

He slides his bare cock against your folds, the thick head catching on your clit with each pass. Sparks of pleasure shoot up your spine, your back arching as you press back against him instinctively. The wet sound of his shaft gliding through your arousal fills the air, a melody that makes your toes curl.

"Fuck, you're so wet, kitten," he growls, his voice rough with lust. "So ready for my cock."

You can feel it in the desperate, erratic way he grinds against you, in the harsh, ragged sound of his breathing. It's a battle of wills, a contest to see who will break first. And as Sylus' cock catches on your clit once more, sending a bolt of electric pleasure rocketing through you, you know it won't be long before one of you snaps. The tension is unbearable, the need for release a physical ache that demands satisfaction.

"Fuck, Sylus!" you cry out, unable to hold back any longer. As you feel the thick head of his cock pressing insistently at your entrance, you make your choice. Reaching back, you grab his hips and yank him forward, impaling yourself on his shaft with a desperate scream that echoes through the empty parking lot as Sylus' thick cock stretches your tight walls in one brutal, glorious thrust. The sudden intrusion is a shock of pain and pleasure, your body struggling to accommodate his girth.

"Oh god, you're so fucking big," you keen, your hips buck back against him, desperate for more, always craving that sweet spot where pleasure blurs with pain.

He doesn't give you time to adjust, pulling nearly all the way out before slamming back in, setting a brutal pace from the start. The motorcycle rocks beneath you with each powerful thrust, the metal creaking in protest at the force of Sylus' movements. You're pinned beneath him, helpless to do anything but take his punishing thrusts as he fucks into you.

You're teetering on the brink, your body coiled tight and ready to shatter. The pleasure is cresting, your walls fluttering and clenching around his cock as he drives into you with wild, desperate abandon. You're so close, your climax just within reach, when suddenly Sylus curses under his breath.

"Fuck!" he snarls, his voice rough and ragged. Before you can react, he's pulling out of you abruptly, the sudden emptiness a shock to your overstimulated body.

You cry out, your hands scrabbling for purchase on the motorcycle seat as you feel the cool night air hitting your swollen folds. "Fuck, Sylus!" you wail, your voice a mix of frustration and desperate need. "Don't stop now!"

He's panting harshly, his chest heaving as he fights for control.

"Dammit," he growls, "You feel too fucking good. I'm not going to last if you keep taking my cock like that"

You watch as Sylus sits back on the motorcycle seat, facing the back of his bike, his eyes shining with dark promise as he meets your pleading gaze. With a smirk, he pats his thighs invitingly.

"Climb up here, kitten," he commands "Fuck yourself on my cock until you scream. I want to watch you come apart on my dick.

He grips the base of his shaft, stroking it slowly as he waits for you to obey. The thick length is slick with your juices, the swollen head an angry red and leaking steadily. The sight makes your mouth water, your body screaming at you to take what you need.

You swing a leg over the motorcycle seat, straddling his hips, the thick ridge of his cock nestling against your dripping slit. With a shaky breath, you reach down and grasp his shaft, positioning him at your entrance. His hands find your hips, gripping them hard as he pulls you down. You sink onto his thick length with a low moan, your head falling back as he stretches you wide.

"Fuck, just like that," Sylus grunts, his fingers digging into your hips as he guides you into a steady rhythm.

You start to move, lifting yourself up until just the tip remains inside, before slamming back down. The helmet catches your gaze, the sleek black surface reflecting your flushed face and as you fuck yourself on his cock, you keep your eyes locked on the helmet, the fantasy you've imagined playing out before you.

As you feel your movements start to slow, your thighs trembling with exertion, Sylus takes control. He grips your wrists firmly, pushing your hands to the back of the motorcycle seat. "Hold on tight, sweetie," his voice a low, intense rumble. "Because I'm going to fuck you now."

Then, with a powerful thrust of his hips, he's slamming up into you, burying his cock deep inside you.

"Oh god!" you cry out, your fingers scrabbling for purchase on the leather seat. The helmet blurs before your vision as Sylus pounds into you, the force of his thrusts rocking the motorcycle beneath you. He sets a brutal pace, each powerful drive of his hips forcing the air from your lungs in a sharp gasp. The we sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the night air, mingling with the creaking of the motorcycle and your wanton moans.

"Fuck," Sylus snarls, his breath coming in harsh pants fogging the inside of his helmet "You feel and look so fucking good. So perfect around my cock."

His hand tangles in your hair, gripping it tightly forcing you to maintain eye contact with him through the helmet as he fucks you.

Suddenly he changes the angle of his hips, tilting them up as he slams into you, the thick ridge of his pelvis grinds against your sensitive clit with each thrust. Sparks of electric pleasure shoot through you, making your back arch and your toes curl.

"Oh fuck, Sylus!" you scream, "Right there! Don't stop!"

Your nails dig into the leather seat, gripping it for dear life as Sylus pounds into your g-spot. The pleasure is overwhelming, your body shaking and trembling with the force of your impending climax.

As the pleasure crests to an unbearable peak, you force your eyes open. Through the visor of his helmet, you meet Sylus' gaze, and what you see steals your breath away.

His crimson eyes are locked onto yours, blazing with an intensity that makes your heart stutter. In that moment, you see a man utterly consumed by desire, a man who would move heaven and earth to claim you, to possess you completely. It's a look of pure worship. A believer seeing his god, his reason for living. Sylus is lost in you, lost in the feel of your tight heat gripping his shaft, lost in the way your body responds so perfectly to his touch.

Your body seizes, your back arching as your orgasm crashes over you.

"Sylus!" you scream, tears of pleasure streaming down your face as your climax tears through you. Your walls spasm and clench around him as you come harder than you ever have before.

His eyes widen as he feels your walls clamp down around him, "Fuuuuuck!" Sylus screams, his voice echoing through the night as he erupts within you. His hot, thick seed floods your insides, painting your walls with his essence as he grinds against your cervix. You feel each twitch and throb of his cock as he empties himself inside you, your body shaking with the force of your mutual climax.

You both collapse against each other, chests heaving as you struggle to catch your breath. Sylus' arms wrap around you, holding you close.

After a long moment, Sylus lifts his head, his crimson eyes finding yours through the visor once more. "Was that everything you imagined it would be, kitten?" Sylus asks, his voice a low, sensual purr. "Riding my cock on the back of my bike, fucking yourself stupid?" He reaches up, his finger tracing along your jawline before tilting your chin up "Because I can assure you that for me it was even better than I could have possibly imagined."

He chuckles, a deep, rumbling sound in his chest as he watches you laugh. He reaches up and unclasps his helmet, pulling it off to reveal his handsome face, flushed and gorgeous in the moonlight. Leaning in, you press a soft, quick kiss to his lips, savoring the taste of him.

"Let's go home Sy, I still have a few ideas"

Sylus grins as he pulls out of you and helps you off the bike, his hands lingering on your curves. "Next time you go to a bookstore make sure to pick out the nastiest, most depraved books you can find. Spare no expense, kitten. It's my treat."

His thumb brushes over your lower lip, his eyes glinting with mischief and dark promise. "I want to know all about the filthiest things you imagine us doing together, before acting them out in ways that will make those authors blush."

He leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "And maybe, if you're a good girl, I'll even let you read them to me while I worship your body, Would you like that, baby?"

He pulls back slightly to gauge your reaction, one eyebrow cocked expectantly as he waits for your laughter to fill the crisp night air once more. The way his eyes shine makes it clear that he's already imagining all the deliciously depraved things he wants to do to you, inspired by the pages of those naughty books.

[adiraargent]

Like you love me - Mattheo Riddle

warnings: fluff, kissing summary: you catch your boyfriend looking at you from across the room...

Mattheo Riddle leaned against the wall, a faint smile playing on his lips as he watched you across the room. You were engrossed in a conversation, your laughter ringing through the air. He couldn't help but admire the way your eyes sparkled when you smiled, the way your expressions animated every story you told. As he lost himself in observing you, you suddenly caught his gaze and made your way toward him.

"Don't look at me like that," you teased, a playful glint in your eyes as you joined him by the wall.

"How am I looking at you?" Mattheo replied, arching an eyebrow, feigning innocence.

"Like you love me," you said with a mischievous grin, a hint of amusement coloring your tone.

Mattheo's expression softened, the corners of his lips curling up into a genuine smile. "Maybe I do," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, almost lost in the ambient noise around you.

Your breath hitched at his words, the air suddenly charged with an unspoken tension. His gaze held yours, a silent invitation lingering between you both. Without a word, he reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle yet filled with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.

In that moment, everything else seemed to fade away, the world narrowing down to just the two of you. The music, the chatter, the bustling atmosphere—it all became background noise, insignificant compared to the electricity crackling in the air.

"Maybe?" you echoed softly, your heart pounding against your chest, anticipation building with every passing second.

Mattheo leaned in closer, his breath mingling with yours, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. And then, with a whisper-soft touch, his lips met yours in a tender, hesitant kiss. It was a delicate dance of emotions, a silent confession spoken through the meeting of lips.

Time seemed to stand still as you melted into each other's embrace, the world around you fading into a blissful blur. In that fleeting moment, nothing else mattered except the undeniable truth that hung between you both—a love that had silently woven itself into the fabric of your connection.

When you finally pulled away, your eyes met again, now filled with an unspoken understanding, a shared acknowledgment of something beautiful that had just been awakened between you.

"Maybe," Mattheo repeated, his voice now tinged with a certainty that mirrored the newfound depth in his gaze, "I definitely do."

[keanusbabydoll]

TEASE

paring: teacher!negan smith x fem!reader

warnings: 18+content, huge age gap (reader is off age tho), inappropriate relationship, rough sex, heavy smut, oral (m), daddy kink, p in v, unprotected sex, degrading, dom!negan, slight overstimulation, spanking, teasing

wordcount: 4.8k

masterlist

. • °✧༺ ༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ . • °✧༺ ༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ . • °✧༺ ༻*✫

the classroom was unbearably dull. numbers blurred together on the whiteboard, and the droning sound of negans voice filled the room. normally, his deep, confident voice was something you found intoxicating, but not when he was talking about maths. hell, you hated maths. it was nothing but a collection of confusing numbers and equations you didn’t care for.

but negan?

oh, you cared about him.

your dark, forbidden secret. your thrill.

for seven months, you had been entangled in a secret affair with your teacher. he was everything you weren’t supposed to have, and that made it all the more exhilarating. the risk, the stolen moments, the way he looked at you when no one else was watching. you weren’t just his student; you were his, in every way that mattered.

and lord, was this intoxicating.

right now, negan stood at the front of the room, writing on the board, his muscles flexing beneath the tight fabric of his shirt. the way he moved, the way his strong hands moved as he wrote on the board, had you absolutely hypnotized. every once in a while, he would steal a glance at you, a smirk tugging on his lips as if he knew exactly what was running through your mind. he always did.

warmth began to spread in your whole body the longer you watched him, flashbacks of how you guys had just fucked a few days ago clouding your mind. he always fucked you so good, it was addicting and always left you longing for more.

as he continued to explain a new topic, which you had zero interest in, an idea sparkled in your head. why should you have been the only one who suffered? you wanted him to crave you as much as you craved him in that certain moment.

a grin was plastered on your face as you reached for your phone under the desk. you waited until he sat down at his desk, giving the class independent work. then, with deliberate mischief, you typed out a message. your heart pounded as you hit send and your eyes wandered to the front.

negan’s phone buzzed beside him. his head tilted slightly, curiosity flashing across his face as he reached for it. the moment he saw your name pop up on the screen, his sharp eyes locked onto yours. you leaned back in your chair, biting your lip teasingly as you watched him read the message.

what i’d do right now to have you fuck my brains out until your name is all i can remember, daddy.

his entire demeanor shifted. you could see it. his jaw clenched, his fingers tightened around the phone for a second before he placed it back down with a controlled exhale. you knew exactly what you were doing. teasing him had always been your favorite game. his nostrils flared slightly, and his tongue ran over his bottom lip. you knew that look.

trouble.

you had lit a fire, and you knew you’d be dealing with the consequences soon. and you were fucking in for it.

for the rest of the lesson, tension crackled in the air between you. every time he glanced your way, his dark eyes were filled with unspoken promises. you could barely sit still, your pulse racing in anticipation. you felt the heat creeping up your neck as the minutes dragged on until, finally, the bell rang.

“alright, get outta here,” negan announced, his usual smirk in place as the students began packing up. “try not to forget everything i just taught you the second you step out the door.”

you stood up, gathering your things, and made your way toward the exit—only to be stopped by his voice.

“not you.”

your stomach flipped. you turned to see him leaning back in his chair, arms crossed, his gaze locked on you. the last student filed out of the room, closing the door behind them. the second you were alone, he stood up, his pointer finger making curling motions— signing you to come closer. with shaky legs, you slowly moved towards his desk. his huge form was now towering over you, his hands resting flat on the wooden surface. his brown eyes were filled with something dangerous, boring right into your soul.

“you like teasing me, huh?” his voice was low, rough, sending a shiver down your spine. he leaned in closer, only inches away from your face, the air between you charged with electricity. “you think it’s funny to send me shit like that in the middle of my damn class?”

you bit your lip, tilting your head slightly. “i don’t know what you mean, mr. smith.” your voice was full of innocence but the look in your eyes was telling a different story. negan chuckled darkly, shaking his head before reaching for you. his hand wrapped around your throat, just squeezing in the lightest bit, just enough to make your breath hitch.

“that mouth of yours is gonna get you into a lot of trouble, sweetheart.”

your lips parted slightly, your pulse racing by now. “maybe that’s what i want.”

he exhaled sharply, his grip tightened before he yanked you closer, his lips crashing against yours in a heated, bruising kiss. his beard scraped deliciously against your skin as he pulled you even closer, forcing you to take everything he gave to you. the kiss was rough, possessive, his dominance unmistakably. his free hand moved to your waist, letting his fingers dig into the soft flesh. you couldn’t stifle a moan which was right swallowed by negan’s mouth.

when he finally pulled back, his breath was hot against your lips. “that what you wanted?” you licked your lips, your voice just above a whisper. “not enough.”

negan chuckled darkly. “greedy little thing.” his fingers trailed up and down your side before he took a step back, his smirk returning full force. “i’d love to teach you a lesson right here, right now, doll. but…” he glanced around the empty classroom. “something tells me we’d be interrupted.” you groaned in frustration, making him huff out amusingly, his fingers now gripping your chin. he leaned in again, his voice dropping to a growl. “meet me after school. by my car.”

your stomach flipped in excitement. “yes, sir.” his grip tightened as he let a finger trace over your bottom lip. “good girl.”

with that, he released you, stepping back as if nothing had happened. “now get outta here before i change my mind.” while nodding your head, you turned on shaky legs, heading for the door. just as you reached for the handle, he called out one last time.

“oh, and sweetheart?”

you looked over your shoulder, finding his gaze dark and filled with promise.

“you’re in for a long night.”

. • °✧༺ ༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ . • °✧༺ ༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ . • °✧༺ ༻*✫

school finally ended to your huge relief. since negan’s lesson you couldn’t think straight anymore, all you could think of was him and what he would do to you. and you couldn’t wait to find out. the whole day long this fire in your core wouldn’t vanish, just the imagination of what would happen later got you fucking soaked.

the sun was slowly starting to set as you walked towards the teacher’s parking lot, your heartbeat picking up speed as you spotted negan. he was leaning against his car, just finishing a cigarette. as soon as he saw you, that signature smirk curled his lips. “took you long enough, sweetheart.” he teased, flicking the cigarette to the ground and crushing it under his boot. “thought you might’ve decided to avoid tonight’s destiny.”

you scoffed. “not a chance.”

he chuckled, biting his bottom lip as he opened the car door for you. “get in.”

the command in his tone sent a shiver down your spine, and you obeyed without hesitation. as soon as you settled into the passenger seat, negan shut the door and rounded the car, sliding into the driver’s seat. the air inside felt thick, heavy with tension.

the engine rumbled to life, but the real problem was the way his hand immediately found your thigh. you bit your lip as he started driving, his fingers resting there—warm, firm, possessive. you knew that he would do anything to repay you for that stunt you pulled earlier. and teasing was a good start.

he could feel how your body tensed up, how his sweet torture began to set in, began to affect you. but you tried your best to hide it, to play it cool. you didn’t want negan to win so easily, after all, you were the one who started this whole game.

negan let out a low chuckle, knowing damn well that your strategy wasn’t working. you turned your head sharply, eyeing him closely. “what?”

“nothing, doll.” he replied defiantly, keeping his eyes on the road while his smirk widened.

his hand slid higher, thumb now caressing your soft, covered flesh. you squirmed under his touch, your own body betraying you. your pulse sped up and your breath hitched when he slowly lifted his hand higher and higher, stopping by the waist band of your pants. “negan…” you breathed out, gripping the edge of the seat, trying to maintain some semblance of control, but he was relentless. “what?” he copied you, a devilish expression plastered on his face.

you just sighed out, knowing that there was no way you could win this. so you just gave in, let it happen. let him have the victory. “that’s what i thought.” he rasped, looking at you with darkened eyes, his digits slowly slipping into your pants.

a groan almost escaped negan’s mouth when he felt that wet spot on your panties. “look at that, doll. i haven’t even touched her yet and she’s fucking soaked.” he didn’t waist another second to force his digits inside your panties, immediately finding your hardened nub. he began to rub slow, delicate circles around it, eliciting quiet moans from you.

his fingers slid down, circling your wet entrance while collecting your slick before he dragged it up again and continued to stimulate your clit faster. your breath was getting heavier and heavier, your poor hole clenched around nothing— desperate to cum and to be stuffed full of him.

“that’s a good girl.” he murmured, glancing sideways to watch your reactions. you could slowly feel how that sweet coil in your stomach began to tighten, waves of pleasure running through your whole body. your hand gripped his wrist, feeling his motions and how fast he worked on your clit. your eyes were closed, mouth agape and a string of moans left your lips.

but then suddenly, when you were just one or two minutes away from your high, he completely pulled away. it was so quick, that you didn’t even register that his hand was removed from your pants at first. instantaneously, your eyes snapped open, a confused mask covered your face as you turned to look at him. “daddy…” your voice was a mere whisper, a pout forming on your lips.

“now don’t be such a needy little thing, doll.” he grinned as he turned the engine off. and that’s when you first realized that you were already at his home. the whole care ride long you had been caught up by the pleasure he gave to you.

he got out of his car, while you opened the door with a trembling hand. as soon as you stepped out, he had you thrown over his shoulders, walking towards the entrance. a small yelp escaped your mouth as you held onto his leather jacket tightly. “gonna have so much fun with you, baby.” he groaned as he slapped your ass with force, making you squirm at the sudden pain.

the second the front door shut behind you, he was all over you. he had set you down, gripping your waist as he as he pinned you roughly against the cool surface, his hand on your throat. “time for your fucking lesson,” he murmured against your lips before hoisting you up, his hands gripping the back of your thighs, carrying you towards his bedroom while his lips captured yours in a messy, heated kiss.

he pushed the door open, immediately making a straight beeline to his bed. in a flash, he had you thrown on the bed, his dark eyes staring down at you—filled with lust. you propped yourself up on your elbows, glancing up at him with your prettiest doe eyes. “you have no idea how hard it was for me to control myself today, baby.”

“you didn’t actually think that you’d get away with this shit, right?” he crawled on top of you, caging you underneath his body, his voice a low growl against your ear.

“wasn’t my intention to.” you replied defiantly, wrapping your legs around his torso to pull him closer. “you’re a real brat today.” he smirked, pressing a kiss to your collarbone. you closed your eyes, finally receiving what you wanted so bad, but in a matter of seconds, you suddenly couldn’t feel his weight on you anymore. “strip.”

your eyes snapped open at his words, catching him towering over you by the edge of the bed—his face was dead serious, nothing playful covered it anymore. “now.” his tone was so low, it almost seemed intimidating to you. you didn’t spend another thought before you shuffled to your feet, tearing your shirt off. his eyes were on you the whole time, his intense stare was sending shivers down your spine. next, you unbuttoned your pants, pushing them down your legs until you stood in front of him in only your lingerie.

he crossed his arms as his eyes seemed to darken even more. “all of it.” it was scary to watch how quickly he could change his whole demeanor. but that was exactly what you loved about negan— his harsh, dominant behavior.

hesitatingly, you reached back, unclamping your bra and tossing it away, which was quickly followed by your panties. “good girl. on your knees.” he instructed, and immediately you obeyed him, sinking down right in front of him. you watched him through your lashes, waiting for his next move. he eyed you closely, oh, how desperate you were looking at him, how your thighs rubbed together to relief that ache in your core if even just in the lighted bit. his cock hardened even more at the sight, there was no way he could wait any more seconds to finally feel your plump lips wrapped around him.

“what the hell are you waiting for? start.” he growled, gesturing to the bulge right in front of you. while keeping your eyes on him, your hands reached for his belt, unbuckling it before you unzipped his pants, pushing them down his legs. his onyx eyes darkened even more when you wrapped your fingers around the waistband of his boxer briefs, finally letting his cock spring free. negan stepped out of his clothes and removed his shirt, impatiently waiting for you to continue.

your stare wandered to his rock-hard dick, admiring the way it throbbed with need. his tip was angry red, beads of pre-cum leaking out of it, a small whimper leaving your lips. that burn in your core only seemed to get stronger and stronger. your mind was too dizzy to care about keeping your confidence up, or to tease him further. in an instant, your hand wrapped around it, squeezing a little bit before you began to pump him. negan immediately hissed out, his hand reached for the roots of your hair, pulling firmly. “c’mon suck daddy’s cock like a good little girl.”

you brought your lips to his cock, pressing a few kisses to the shaft, licking along that vein before you finally wrapped your lips around his swollen tip. with an impatient groan he pushed his cock into your mouth, immediately bucking his hips forward when the warmth of your mouth welcomed him. you tried your best to relax your throat, trying not to gag— which never really worked out.

you began to bob your head back and forth while sucking firmly—creating a pleasant vacuum. “fuck, doll. fuuuck.” he growled, his grip just tightening. your pussy throbbed, god, you needed him. you could feel how your juices oozed out of you, coating both your thighs. your movements only sped up, taking him faster and faster, determined to bring him to his high. negan couldn’t— he couldn’t hold back anymore. his senses were taken over by the sweet feeling of your mouth.

his free hand joined the other, completely grabbing ahold of your head as he began to fuck into your mouth. you opened your mouth wider, letting him use your hole for his own pleasure. “just like that, baby.” he grunted as he pushed your head forward in rhythm with his thrusts, causing you to gag around his length. he didn’t care a bit how much you sputtered, how many tears streamed down your face and thrusted his cock deeper into you. you quietly sobbed, looking up at him through a blurry vision as he hit the back of your throat over and over again.

negan glanced back down at you, loving the way your tears coated your cheeks, how powerless you were beneath him. you could feel how his dick twitched frantically, his movements turning harsher. “gonna cum into that pretty mouth of yours.” you moaned in reply, sending vibrations through his cock.

your hands gripped his thighs for support as he moved in and out of your hole, chasing his release. “fuck, baby!” his voice was a deep rasp as he bucked his hips into you, pulling you flush against him until the tip of your nose touched his pelvis. a strangled cry rang through the room as you squirmed beneath him, your nails digging into his flesh. and then, you could feel how his thick liquid spurted down your throat, holding your head in place to make sure you got every last drop of it. the heavy, salty taste of his cum immediately overcame your senses.

with a deep groan he pulled out and released the grasp on your hair. “c’mon, swallow.” he breathed as his hand gripped your gin, forcing you to look up at him. you innocently blinked at him a few times before you swallowed everything he gave to you. “fucking, good girl.” he devilishly chuckled, his thumb gliding over your bottom lip.

“now, get up.” he commanded, gesturing to the bed. “i want you on all fours. head down, ass up.”

your legs instantly moved toward the bed, crawling on top of it on your hands and knees, placing yourself in the middle, exactly the way he ordered. negan watched you with sharp eyes in this submissive position, a growl ringing through the room at the sight of your glistening pussy. only on display for him. he could feel how his cock hardened again, it was always so easy when it came to you.

during class, even just a small glance to your cleavage—which you always wore intentionally for him to see—got him going.

“hands to your back.” were the last words you registered—obeying him—before he got on the bed, positioning himself right behind you. a small whimper left your lips as you felt his tip nudging your entrance. “please.”

smack.

a stinging pain cursed through your body.

he gripped where your wrists crossed, pulling your upper body up. you could sense how he leaned down, how the heat radiated off his body. “are you gonna tease me like that again?”

smack.

“or have you made up your mind to finally behave and be a good girl for daddy?” he was so close, his hot breath was tickling the skin of your neck.

“yes! i’ll be good, i promise! just— please!” your words came out as a pathetic, desperate whine, your cunt was begging to be filled. that all too familiar chuckle rang through your ears as he straightened up again, placing a hand on your hip. “what do you want, doll?”

“negan! please— fuck me!” you couldn’t take it anymore, every nerve in your body screamed for release. you were so needy, you started to wriggle your hips, pushing them back against his cock but he kept still. a frustrated groan came out of your mouth as a tear glided down your cheek. “negan, i swear i’ll be—fuck!” you cut yourself off mid-sentence with a scream as your eyes rolled to the back of your skull.

negan just forced his entire length inside of you with a harsh thrust, completely bottoming out. “oh my god!” you cried out as your mouth hung open, trying to get used to this sharp pain abusing your lower body. you could never get used to him, not in this world. his cock was something different.

“you feel so fucking good, baby.” he grunted, gripping your flesh tighter as he began to move in slow, shallow thrusts, your wetness making it easy for him. your face contorted, the sting of his size cutting through you but the pleasure you received easily drowned it out. his tip pressed delicately against that one spot—settled deep inside of you—which he knew you loved so much. “you alright, sweetheart?”

“yes, harder! please, daddy.” you whimpered and as soon as he heard your words, his pounds got harsher, got faster. negan got lost in the way your walls wrapped around him so perfectly, how they helplessly clamped down on him. his eyes focused where your bodies connected, where he glided in and out of you so effortlessly, how your hole swallowed him up. “fuck— you’re taking me so well, baby. gonna fuck you stupid.”

your back arched in ecstasy when he wrapped a hand around your torso—releasing your wrists— and pulled you up even more, forcing your back to arch uncomfortably. a string of high pitched moans left your lips when he was able to hit that sensitive spot inside of you with great force, igniting sparks. “negan, negan,” you cried out at his strength and how good he was making you feel. and you could say, you were at a point where his name was all you could remember.

“that’s it, doll. scream my name.” he grunted, clashing his hips even rougher against your ass. you could feel how his free hand slid down your sides, tracing a line down to your core before he spanked it, making you squeal out in reply. “you like that, huh? you like getting fucked like the slut you are?”

“mmhh— yes, negan!” you managed to splutter out as he began to rub your clit in furious circles. the sudden sensation sent sparks through your whole body, making your thighs quiver uncontrollably. this only fueled your intense pleasure, and you could sense how that tingly feeling in your abdomen got stronger and stronger.

negan groaned when he felt your walls contracting around him, squeezing him so perfectly tight. “you feel so good, baby, fuck! are you gonna cum, sweetheart?” he breathed into your ear, licking the spot beneath it. “yesss—i’m close!” your eyes were shut and your head tossed back to lean against his chest. “not without my permission.” he chuckled darkly as he pulled out of your hole, the circles on your clit stopping as well.

a pathetic cry fell from your lips.

he actually pulled out of you.

your nearing orgasm faded away in mere seconds as tears pricked in your eyes. “negan… i— please.” you begged him, you needed him to fill you up again, needed him to make you orgasm. but this was his torture, his way of making you pay. he knew how much you hated it when he edged you, when he denied your orgasm. it was always amusing for him to watch. how your moans and begs turned even more desperate, how you would do anything to make him continue. you always were on his mercy. every single time.

“have you learned your lesson?” he growled, sending a harsh slap to your ass. “god! yes, i swear i’ll be good.”

“you’re lucky i love that sweet pussy of yours so much.” he smirked, and in the blink of an eye he had filled you to the brim again. this time he was so deep, you could feel his tip kissing your cervix. immediately, he was pistoning in and out of you like a fucking animal, he was giving you all he had. “negannnn!!” it really was the only word that seemed to come out of your mouth. he was the only thing you could think of—it was like he had a spell over you.

his fingers went back to assaulting your poor clit and in mere seconds that knot began to tighten again. with all that pent up frustration, that teasing, your highly craved orgasm seemed to come even quicker.

you knew you were on the verge of cumming, you just needed him to go even rougher. "f-faster, negan." you managed to choke out and he didn't need to hear that twice. with his head tipping back in ecstacy, he increased the speed of his hips clashing against your ass. his deep, harsh pounding, the abuse on your poor aching clit, the sound of skin clapping roughly together, the intense smell of sex in the room— it was all too much for you.

“fuck! i- i’m cumming!” a pornographic moan echoed through the whole house, the coil in your stomach finally snapped and pushed you off the edge. a long and powerful orgasm crashed through you as you threw your head back in bliss. negan pressed a calloused hand into the flesh above your pelvis, making your high all the more intense. and you thought you were seeing stars. you couldn't help yourself but screamed out his name, rolling it off your tongue in the most ecstatic way possible.

“yeah—cum all over my cock, little slut.” negan snarled, focusing on his own pleasure now completely. he kept his demonic pace up as he pushed your body forward again. your face was mushed up against the sheets and your hands hand onto them for dear life.

you almost thought you were passing out. the sensations you got to experience were indescribable. you were still lost in your previous orgasm, the after waves sending shockwaves through your veins and not to forget the overstimulation on your clit. it had you squirming and squealing beneath him. “god, negan. please, s-slow down.”

in reply negan landed a firm slap to your ass, making you shriek at the sudden sting. “shut your mouth and take it like the fucking whore you are.” his words sent shivers down your spine as you felt another slap to your ass. by now his handprint must’ve been imprinted in red on your skin.

you were a mess, your whimpers grew louder and louder as you let him use you. his fingers finally removed from your clit as he gripped at your hips. his groans got louder and his breath sharper by second. you knew he was close. “you want daddy to fill that pretty pussy up?”

“yes, daddy! please!”

the aggressive slamming of his hips became more erratic as a deafening growl rang through your ears, you felt his cock twitching hard, filling your velvety walls with his thick ropes of cum. “fucking hell, doll!” he shamelessly grunted, pushing his seed deep inside of you.

you moaned at the sensation of feeling so full while he made sure that he emptied every bit in you. negan mumbled something beneath his breath before he stopped his thrusts, eventually pulling out. you whined at the sudden emptiness.

he collapsed beside you, pulling you with him in the process. your face was resting against his chest and you could hear his racing heartbeat as he tried to calm down from his high. your hand was drawing small circles over his skin, your breathing still hard.

“you did so good for daddy, sweetheart.” negan smiled as he pulled your face up. he pressed his lips to yours, claiming them in a slow, passionate kiss while pulling your exhausted form closer. “i should tease you more often.” you mumbled against his lips, a smirk plastered on your face.

“and i should punish you more often.” he chuckled, capturing your lips again.

if negan fucks you this intensely and roughly every time you’re teasing him, then this will become your new mission in every single class with him.

requests are opened ☆

[hyukascampfire]

𝓜ILK WITH YOUR COOKIES? ､. c.sb

too excited to sleep on christmas night, the last thing you might've expected was to find a very tall, very handsome man with arms full of gifts broken into your home. also, for him to claim himself to be santa claus. ࣪˒ ࿔

゛◞͈ ⧼ 🧦 ⧽ ･ 5.8k

𝓹airings ˒ santa!soobin x reader

𝑔 ; smut

𝔀arnings ˒ general smut, cum eating, breast worship, mentions of titty fucking, soobin watches reader play with themselves without their knowledge, fem!reader, cumming on belly, whiny soobin kinda, soobin is... well, santa, possessiveness, usage of the word whore

✎୭ ashlynn's note guys. please promise me you won't imagine an old man when you read this. LMAOO. this is the first day of the event! tell me how you guys feel abt it :3

﹙⋞ ﹚... back to the 𝓂asterlist

All wrapped up in the covers, you try to close your eyes and just let it happen. You really do. The mattress beneath you is soft and embraces you with warm, oh-so-welcoming arms, and the fireplace crackles from the living room. You’d left the door cracked, only a little bit, just so that the sounds might lull you to sleep. 

Despite all the efforts you’d put into a perfectly cozy, perfectly sleepy, night, your mind wanders each time you let your lashes fall to your cheeks. You try and soothe it over with fuzzy visions of waking up in the morning to the world outside your window dusted white and your tree, all alight and sparkling, made full with gifts wrapped in swirling red paper.

Well, if you were sleepy before, you’d lost it now. 

Perhaps you’re far too excited for Christmas. Especially for your age—a full grown woman too giddy to sleep on Christmas eve? It’s ridiculous. But those warm, flickering memories of Christmas mornings with your family are close to your heart. Bounding down the stairs on bare feet to go stick them by the fireplace to defrost, pulling woolen, knitted stockings off the mantle when your parents told you to check for coal, and then after it all, finally sitting crisscrossed around the tree. The smell of whatever spiced thing your mother would be warming over the fire and the sharpness of the pine needles—you think that there is nothing better. It was such a simple time. 

You push yourself up off the bed, hair mussed with relentless tossing and turning. Slipping out from the covers, you don’t even bother fixing it. The wood flooring creaks beneath your weight. Through your woolen stockings, the ones you’d pulled on just before bed so that you might stay toasty should the fire die out, it greets you nice and pleasantly warmed. 

Down the hallway you shuffle, smoothing over your cotton sleep dress and tugging your fingers through tangles of hair. Three hours; three hours you’d been curled up in your bed, alternating between inspecting your ceiling and walls as if you’d never seen them before and trying to think sleepy thoughts. You can really only handle so much of that. 

Starting in the afternoon, as soon as the sun began yawning and blinking bleary eyes to give way to the moon, you had worked dutifully on whipping up some Christmas desserts. Baking platterfuls of warm goodies was something your mother did for your family every Christmas eve. Bowl in hand, and wafts of gingerbread and fruit cakes twirling sweet and warm up to your nose, those memories were all you could think of. Your heart aches in your chest. This day doesn’t feel the same celebrating by yourself. You’d hung garlands down from doorframes and done such a beautiful job on the tree, but you’d done it all. Alone. You’d done all your baking alone, too. 

So, though you don’t have the faces of family around, not even a boyfriend, to eat them with... You’ll eat tbe excess alone. You’d always been the type to go all tired with a full belly, anyway. Maybe it’ll help you get to sleep. 

The counters are a beautiful spread of your day’s work. Cinnamon cakes made even sweeter with a warm, sugary drizzling, fruitcakes of raisin and dates, glazed fruits all fat and ready to make your fingers sticky as you enjoy them, all on silver filigree platters. Beside it all, you place your candle, the lengths of it decorated with rivulets of wax melted down and then gone solid once more. You sift between them, fingers itching for something hearty. 

From behind you, there’s a shuffling. It’s slight. Firewood burnt down to nothing shifting and falling, most likely. You peruse the platters—the glimmering, glazed nuts, or mahogany cakes? You almost decide, but, with another rustle, you cannot pretend it was nothing this time. You turn on your heel. 

There, in your living room, stands a man.  

A very tall, very frozen man. With features soft, he looks as though the warmth and coldness of Christmas personified both. Wide, brown eyes return a look very similar to what you assume yours might be. In his hands, he holds a box wrapped in papers—one that looks as though it would belong so well beneath your tree. 

Frozen way down to your bone, you don’t really know what to do. Do you scream? Would the family in the home across from yours hear you? As a young, unwedded woman, and their neighbor, you think they might help you. They’d always seemed to like you well enough. How’d he even find his way into your home anyway? You don’t leave doors unlocked. 

For a few more long moments, the two of you stare at each other. Strangely, he seems just as rattled as you.

“Who are you?” you say, voice wavered in just the way someone’s might if they found an unknown man in their home. He doesn’t look scary. Not by a long shot. With warm eyes of hot chocolate and hair the fluffy brown of any girl’s dreams, he does not look scary at all. You might even say he looks delicious. 

The stranger opens his mouth and closes it a few times. When he finally goes to speak, in a rounded cheek you spy the twitching of a dimple. It’s soft in his face, just like the rest of him. His ears burn red. “You’re not supposed to be awake,” he says, a waterfall of nervous laughs falling out along with it. 

You, just as frozen as you’d been when you’d first turned around to find him there, frown. Not supposed to be awake? What is that even supposed to mean? You tug at the hem of your night dress. You’d pulled it on thinking that nobody would see you in it, and especially not a man. An intruding man, at that. It’s thin and comfortable, falling at a spot on your thigh that’s good for movement, but not for wearing in front of a strange man. Definitely not. 

“What do you mean?” you say, stricken in place. As much as your heart beats like a wild, caught animal in your chest, sending liquid energy right through your veins, you cannot move. It’s no different from the deer that, instead of darting between the trees to escape a pouncing predator, sits utterly still hoping that maybe they’ll go unnoticed. But this is not the wild, and that does not work here. You probably look more like you’re a blinking, stupid mess than anything. You say, “Get out of my house, or I am going to scream. Get out.” 

Who wants to deal with this on Christmas eve night? Somebody breaking into your home, hoping to get lucky with the presents littered under the tree? Of all the evil things, that might just be the worst. You could not imagine rubbing the sleep out of your eyes and scurrying over to the tree, just to find it utterly bare. 

He laughs again, waving a hand in the air fast and nervous. “I—don’t worry! I’m not going to hurt you! I just... uh, well, you see...” His words twist and tumble over each other, each racing to come out before the next. “This... usually doesn’t happen, and... Nobody ever wakes up,” he says. “You’ll forget about this in a moment.” 

You look him up and down. The Christmas-red suit, all suede and heavy, the heavy black boots, the cuffs of white tufted fur—you’re not stupid. Maybe shaken, but not stupid. Taking a step back, you say him with measured words, “What are you, some kind of freak that breaks in to people’s homes on Christmas to pretend you’re Santa, or something? A thief?”

Over his soft eyes, his brows shoot up. Still holding the present, he steps toward you with his free hand up to show he means no harm. “No—no, really, you don’t need to be scared. I’m... okay, you might know me as something different, but my name is Soobin. I’m just supposed to be dropping these gifts off, and I’ll be on my way. You won’t even remember you saw me.” 

And, there he goes again, saying that you’ll forget you saw him. Whatever that means. You might be alarmed by his words, and really, you ought to be. But you feel more intrigued than anything. He’s got kind, playful eyes. Maybe the kind that are meant to disarm you before stealing from right under your nose, though.  

What really gets you is that he thinks you might know him. By some other name, or whatever. You’ve never seen him, or another face like him, anywhere in or around your village. The people here do not look like that. Their faces are marred by a life spent working for their upkeep, hands flecked with the weight of their professions. This man? He looks as though he’s never lived a hard day in his life. No wrinkle or scarring—his face is beautifully smooth. You’d know any face, you know everybody here. And you do not know him. 

“I don’t think I believe you,” you say. “And, won’t remember? What’s that supposed to mean?” You hover somewhere between the kitchen and the tree, all lit up with flickering candles.

He closes his eyes, a resigned puff of a laugh falling from his mouth. Soobin shakes his head as he tells you, “Guess it doesn’t matter if I tell you. I’m Santa. Claus. Santa Claus. That’s what you’d know me by.” He pushes his brown, horn-rimmed glasses up his nose. “I don’t get caught. Usually. I don’t know why you were still awake.” Hot cocoa strands of brown hair dust just about his eyes as he takes your form in. 

Right from your chest, a scoff like a laugh comes tumbling. Santa Claus. Seriously, this guy is weird. And, he’s in your home. However he’d gotten in. Shuffling back a few steps for good measure, you say, “Santa Claus. You’re Santa Claus.” 

Brows knitted, he nods his head. As if it were obvious that he was Santa Claus. 

Yeah, okay.

It’s ridiculous. So ridiculous that you have to laugh again, full-chested and in his face this time. “If you don’t leave my home, I’m...” You trail off. You’re not sure what you’ll do this time, but you’ll do something. Maybe laugh a little more at him. 

His eyes drink your form in once more, lingering over the softer parts for a few long moments. Your chest, to be more specific, where you’re sure your nipples peek through where your dress moves over it. When his eyes snap back up to your face, he says, “There’s no need for that. Would you like proof?” 

You arch an inviting brow at him. You’d like to see him try to give you any sort of proof that he’s Santa Claus. That might just be entertaining.

“Well,” he says, setting a present down beside the tree. “If it’s down to that, I know that earlier this year, you and that boy slipped into the barn when you thought nobody was looking. But of course, I knew. That was the first naughty tick you gave yourself this year.” 

Stood only perhaps a step or two ahead of you now, you have to crane your neck to meet his gaze. Slowly, talking to him, you’d started loosening up. But now, you go all rigid again, your face paling. There’s absolutely no way he’d know that—considering the fact that you’d not seen him before this very moment, and that you had done a very thorough scan of the area at the time. You go to answer him, but he’s quick to continue. 

“Are those cookies set out for me?” he says, tilting his head up in a pointing gesture. “If you’re such a believer, why do you not believe that I am him?” 

There a number of thoughts and curiosities clogging rational thought in your mind. This time, instead of brushing him off with a patronizing, sneering laugh, you say, “Well. I... They weren’t... for you. I don’t believe in Santa.” 

“You don’t?” he says, brows furrowed as he looks down at you. “Not even as he stands right in front of you? Tell me: how would I know that you touch yourself in the middle of the night, when you think nobody might know, and you’re in your bed all alone? How would I know exactly how you sound while you do?”  

A strange, strangling fog curls over your thoughts and renders them gone. You don’t even know what you would say to that. Maybe he could just say that about anybody, and it might be true, but the conviction and truth hanging heavy in his gaze as he looks at you with it... You think he means it. You don’t know what that makes you—stupid, or so incredibly screwed.  

The counter at your back gives your heart a startle. Suddenly, you’ve got nowhere to escape his serious eyes. “I don’t... I didn’t...” 

His smile goes taunting. “No cookies, and lying...” he hums. “I don’t think this is the best way to behave when I’m here, dropping off your presents. I even made exceptions this year, just so I could stop by here. I don’t stop for naughty listers.” 

Your face burns. Your skin burns, under that look he’s giving you. The space between you burns, too.  

“I don’t think I was bad,” you say. It’s out before you can really even rationalize it, or any of this. All you can contend with are the furious, fiery butterflies that twist your belly up into knots. The ebbing of something consumptive and hungry between your thighs should concern you, too.  

His big, warm hands find perch on your hips. There’s not much between his touch and your skin—just your flimsy little dress. It feels just as though if he were kneading the bare flesh there, fingers digging crescents into the soft fat. Your breath does a few skips. He smells sweet like spiced musk.

“I think you know perfectly how naughty you were,” Soobin says, his face shedding every last bit of lightheartedness in exchange for something ravenous. His eyes fall on your mouth for just a blink, and then he’s looking right into you. Challenging. 

“Oh, please,” you say, pinching your brows into something falsely sweet and innocent. “I don’t think I do. Won’t you tell me, Santa?” You let the last part, his supposed title, twist out like accustion. Whether he’s Santa or not, you don’t care. Your blood whispers and begs for those hands to venture further in, right to the gnawing want that’s come alive deep in your core. It’s insane, you know that. Still, you follow its pleading.

For a short, lucid moment, his face twitches. And then he’s got your ass in his hands, swallowing it up in needy grabs, and then the cool surface of the counter is biting into the heat of your skin, and then his mouth falls over yours like the most fiery, most carnal Christmas gift. 

He eats up your gasps. His mouth is sure, but his hands are frantic and unmeasured all over you. Feeling up the lengths of your sides, sliding up the smooth of your back, cupping the back of your neck to pull you into licks and bites harder. His hands find your breasts the most, though. You can hardly even make sounds as he rolls his thumbs over your nipples and under the swell of them. He takes the weight of your tits into his hands.  

The dance of your mouths breaks off into panted, hot breaths fanning over faces. He readjusts you upon the surface without a care for the clattering of the platters. Fast and as though he’d been waiting for this, he moves down your neck in blazing licks and suckles. One of his hands takes the back of your head, and the other worships your chest. 

Against your skin, strained, he pants, “I waited just to come to your fucking house. Watched you playing around with those idiots—God, I hated to watch, but I couldn’t look away. Wanted to show you how much better you deserved to be treated. Even naughty girls deserve to cum, don’t they?” 

You’re a mewling, hazy mess, hardly able to register words. Especially ones as hard to wrap around as that. All you do is arch your chest into his hand, cheeks all flushed pink. All you want is for him to make good on that promise. Under his touches, you fully believe him. Not once had your escapades gotten you off correctly. His desperate touch brushes right over that tight ball of sexual frustration, unwinding it slowly. With each bit that he unravels you, you shudder. 

“You are a naughty girl, aren’t you? You sound so sweet when you cum. Can’t I hear it again?” he continues, each word hotter in your neck than the last.  

Your head is all light and floaty. Letting it dangle, you give him a meek and pleading, “Yes.” Every last square inch of you beats alive at the prospect of being watched in on as you desperately squirmed against your bed. By him, at that. And, that it had him all pent up like this. 

His hands fumble at the hem of your dress. Pulling it up and over of your thighs and then past your hips and then up your belly, he says, “My pretty baby deserves it. Gonna make you feel so good—wanna make you feel good.” When your dress is all bunched up over your chest, and the soft swells of your breasts are freed to the air and his eyes, a chill rakes over your blazing skin. Goosebumps raise up and down the entirety of you. 

Brown eyes gone different, his tongue darts out to wet his lips. He rests a palm right at your ribcage, so eager to touch but also so eager to just... gawk. 

Pushing your posture to better display your tits for him, you say, “You… wanna touch them?” 

His gaze flickers up to yours and then back down, tracing over the sight of your hardened nipples against the soft, smooth mounds. “Fuck. Yes, I wanna touch them. Please?” he says, voice wavering. He brushes a thumb up under one. It’s an admiring, impatient touch. 

“Yes,” you whisper. A strange little secret between the two of you. “Please, Soobin.” 

He doesn’t need to be told twice. He bends just enough to take a pebbled nipple into his mouth. The hot wetness against your eager skin—it douses you in oil and then sets you on fire. Your mouth drops open to allow a long, wavering whine passage. It tapers off into just open-mouthed, quiet gasps as he rolls his tongue around it, peppering kisses into the soft flesh of your breast. Below it, in the valley between, and then he kisses a path right back to your nipple. 

It’s so simple. His touch is reverent—not overwhelming. Just underneath your skin, it all tingles. It pleads for him to continue, to do more. 

Much to your dismay, he is pleased right where he is. With soft bites and drags of his nose, he ravishes your chest. And when he’s finally done and pulls away from your skin, you shiver at the brushing of cool air against the wet mess he’s left there. 

Heavy-lidded eyes find yours. Running his thumb over your bottom lip, he husks, “No cookies out for me...” He delivers a quick nip at your jawline.  

Under a brush of his fingertips along the expanse of your lower belly, you jolt with a tremor. You will your mouth into movement. “I don’t believe in Santa. Why would I set out cookies?” you say; an echo of what you’d said to him before. But this time, his hands are on you. You want to see how that might change things. 

With an abrasive scoff, he doesn’t disappoint. The corns of his lips twitch. “Let me put my hands on you. Fuck you. You’ll believe in him then,” he says, curling his fingers like bites finally into your bare, moldable hips. They receive the shape of his hands willingly. “Are you gonna thank me for making an exception? For stopping by your house, even though you’re filthy?” 

He brushes lower and lower. Keeping your voice on a tight leash, you tell him, “Please, touch me...” 

He laughs, nose crinkling in tease. “If that’s how you want to say thank you,” he says, “I’ll touch you. You’d like that, huh?” 

With that, he finally brushes over your cunt. Profanities spill out from his lips with the wetness that greets him there. Your body does a start at the touch. 

“Yes, please. I love it—for Christmas, please.” Your voice is thin and pleading. 

It’s all Soobin needs to hear to be sliding you off the counter. The world spins around you in a fuzzy, nonsensical blur of warm light. Against your chest, melded against it, the counter top bites cold.

“Fuck,” he curses, the sound coming from behind you. You can feel his gaze searing a trail down the arch of your back. For the nth time, your skin breaks out into a chill. Warm, tracing fingers smooth down the length of it, starting at the center of your shoulders, until he finds the swell of your ass. “Look at you, arching your back like a well-used slut. You really are needy, aren’t you? I knew it. I knew you’d be perfect. And you’re gonna let me fuck you straight, aren’t you?” The words come out hot on your skin, now. Right into the curve your shoulder. “Maybe fuck you so straight, you’ll be at the top of the nice list next year. A pretty little saint. Huh?” 

All you muster is a stupid, pathetic nod. You want nothing more. 

On your clit, the center of your pulsating need, there’s a chaste pinch. Your body revolts, hips twitching violently in escape. The squeak that it rugs from you is equally violent.

“I’m not sure I want that, though.” There’s a rustling behind you, a clinking of silvery metal and then a brushing of thick fabric. Hot and angry and heavy against you, he presses his cock to your clit. “I think I want you on the top of the naughty list, so I can come here and have this every year.” The mushroom tip of him swirling against your needy bud—it’s so much. So much. 

“Okay,” you say. “I’ll be bad for you, Soobin. Please. I want it so much...” You push your back further into a suggestive curve; begging. He’s led you all the way to the water. Won’t he just indulge you with a taste? You don’t care how stupid or ridiculous you sound. 

His hand ventures up the outside of your thigh, smoothing over warm skin, and then around the curve of your hip, and then across your lower belly. It settles and presses there. “Do you hear yourself?” he sneers, voice in your hair. “I’ve got you, baby.” 

The suggestive, almost-there weight of his cock at your hole gives way to the delicious slide of him into you. Each inch is easy and slick. Perhaps you might worry over how utterly drenched you are, but not when all you can feel echoing through your bones and your veins is him finally filling your emptiness. It feels like mercy, more than a gift or present. 

He pulls out of you before even bottoming out. You spin as best you can to see him, brows furrowed. The look you find on his face as you do tells you everything you need to know about how intentional that was. "Soobin, please.” You look up at him through your lashes, trying to goad him with pretty bats of your eyes. Your cheeks flush pink and hot—your whole body is hot. 

“Begging for cock,” he says, a saccharine grin over his mouth. “Such a nasty whore. Whores don’t get Christmas presents. Shouldn’t you thank me for giving you this?” 

You should feel offended. Scandalized, even. No man has ever spoken to you like this, and you wouldn’t have allowed it. But, coming from his mouth, it’s a strange thing. It lays over you heavy, twisted your inhibitions to naught. “Thank you,” you say, pressing your cheek into the cool counter top to combat the burn. “Thank you, so much. Please.” 

When he starts pushing back into you, the gates of heaven materialize in the black behind your eyelids. Curling your fingers around the edge, you savor each and every inch of him once more until you can practically taste it. And then some. He’s big; bigger than anything you’d ever had from the guys around here. How are you ever supposed to go back to that? 

Finally, his hips meet your ass. He takes a moment to shift, taking a handful of your hip to pin it right into the counter. So, you do too; you grip at the edge of the counter. And then he pulls out of you. For a brief moment, you forget how endowed he is. But, of course, he reminds you with a roll. His cock drags along your walls in a way you’ve never known: full. You are full. 

“Gonna ruin you, so that no matter how many times you let them in your bed, all you’ll want is me,” he says. His hips move slow, just so that he can make sure you hear and internalize every word. “And you’ll wait all year just for this, and you’ll think of my touch when you touch yourself.” 

You can’t answer, or say anything really, around your whimpers. His hips stutter, and then he begins thrusting into you with unabated vigor. Each collision of your dancing bodies is punctuated by the hollow smacking of skin. Those sounds and others, such as your whines as his cock nudges right up against that spot that’s got your thighs quaking, and his tense pants, consume the air where the serene crackling of fire had once ruled. 

Though you do try to reel it in, you really do, his hips find a certain angle that makes it all null. You claw at the hand he’s got pressed firmly to your belly. Beneath you, your legs tremble and shake where they dangle down, and your poor abused hip bones ache against the hard surface of the counter as he fucks you into it. The cabinets clatter with it. “Soobin,” you choke. 

With his cheek pressed to the top of your head as he sloppily pounds stars into your vision, he half growls, half whines, “So—so good around me. So good. I couldn’t wait...to help you out. Thank you, baby.” 

The tremor in it, and the absolute neediness, pierces through the haze and does something to you. His free hand runs over you frantically, and his thrusts turn to something less controlled and more bare. More raw. He’d been hitting that sweet, sweet spot before, but this is more insistent. His hand presses harder into your belly to hold you through it, the other one mapping every last square inch of your skin until he’s intimately familiar with it all, and then some. “Fuck,” he grits out. 

All of it, the flame and the blinding touches, go away for a moment. He pulls out from your heat. You go to push off the counter to complain, and you make it half off, but he’s spinning you around and has you hoisted, ass-to-tabletop before you can. Where your front had been, the surface is already body warmed beneath your ass and thighs. 

“Show me your tits,” he says, nudging your thighs open. “Fuck. Will you let me fuck them next time? They're my tits, right? They fit so well in my hands.” 

Between his panted whines and the slide of his cock back into you, you just let your head fall back and obey. Your legs cascade down, twitching and threatening to snap around his waist each time he brushes against that deep, gummy spot. You arch your back into his face and pull your teeth into your mouth, watching him.

He dives into your chest without ceremony. With a hand on one of your hips to steady you against his fucking, he takes a nipple into his mouth. Soobin rolls his tongue and nips with his teeth, all while working the knot in your belly tighter. Each time your chest jumps or concaves against a bite, he pushes you deeper into it with a hand at your back. 

Your voice is hoarse. Though your moans are sweet and whiny, you sound nasty. Deep in your stomach, rumbling and threatening in a way you are not familiar with, something dangerous swirls. Goosebumps usurp smooth skin at the presence of it. As much as you chase it with your hips, your fingers thread through the strands of his hair to brace for it—readying for it to both ruin and fix you.

The sight of him, face deep in your chest, only feeds more fuel into the fire. His lashes flutter against his pink cheeks. 

“You...” you start, cupping the back of his head into you. “H—fuck... Like my tits? Want them to be yours?” 

You’re not quite sure what you’re saying. Around his waist, the muscles in your thighs are taut and your spine tingles. Your head floats. The barrier between spoken word and true thought is eroded down by it all. What is left is utterly bare. 

He releases your nipple, so hard that it tingles, in a wet pop. Pressing his cheek to it as his hips stutter, he says, all nasally, “Yes. Yes, h—oh fuck, yes, baby.” 

His pathetic whines, fallen into the air all tense like the tightness you’re sure he feels in his belly, as you do in yours, have you digging your heels into the bottom of his spine. Urging him in deeper. Closer. 

Hands finding your hips like iron against the softness of powdery snow, his voice cracks. “Wait—no, shit! Baby, I’m gonna.... Holy shit, let me cum on your belly, baby...” 

So, so very close to both exploding and imploding into violent, consuming bliss, you’re not one to deny him that. You let your thighs fall open, bracing against his biceps, and then just the slightest brush of his groin up into your throbbing clit has the world smearing into nothing around you. 

All of you, every last muscle, goes rigid in the wake of it. And then, with a brilliant, incandescent crashing of symbols and release, you cum. Deep in your thighs and up your back and right in your core, where you clamp down on him hard, you are wracked with twisting muscles. Alternating between desperate whines and being able to get no sounds out, you fight through the blistering presence of your orgasm. 

He watches you, eyes on every micro expression falling over your face, with blown eyes. And then, his hips stutter for the final time. In a frantic hurry, he slips out of you with an obscene pop. He holds his cock over you, fist working up and down it in slick, wet rolls. He lets his head loll back, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard.

You watch his belly go all tight, and his sweet face screw up tight. Then, from his weeping pink tip, he shoots sparkling, hot white spurts all down on your belly. It pools heavy and warm against your skin. 

Finally, he collapses boneless into your front. With his face notched into your neck, he slides his hand up and down his cock a few more times. You two pant into each other’s skin for a few long, exhausted moments. 

He finally pulls back to look you in the eyes, cheeks tinted pink and twitching with a dimple. He releases your hip with one hand, reaching behind you in search of something. When his hand reappears, he’s holding one of those cookies you’d baked hours ago.  

You go to ask him something snarky, like fucked yourself hungry? but you’re interrupted when he runs the cookie up your belly, scooping up ribbons of his cum like dipping cookies in milk. He brings it to your mouth. 

“Open up,” he says, a cheeky, lazy grin smeared over his mouth. “You like milk with your cookies, don’t you?”  

You gape at him, dumbstruck. Still, beside yourself, you open your mouth and take a generous chunk out of it. The musk of him melts down against the cinnamon and ginger snap in your mouth. You savor it on your tongue before making a show of swallowing it all down, holding his eyes. Soobin watches, hawklike, until you’ve got it down.  

“Still don’t believe in Santa?” he says, running a hand through your mess of hair.  

You’d believed in Santa the whole way through. But, he doesn’t need to know that. As he presses one chaste, parting kiss to your neck, you can only hope that Santa might make a generous stop by your place next year too. No matter how naughty you are.  

﹙⋞ ﹚... back to the 𝓂asterlist

✎୭ ashlynn's note LIKE?? come back next yr pls, soobin.

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[missaengg]

A Magical First Christmas

Pairing: Zayne x f!reader Tags: mdni, fluffy smut, very little plot, established relationship, kissing, cunnilingus, dirty talk, praise Word Count: 2.1k Part of the Secret Santa Fic Exchange event hosted by @nanamiscocksleeve and written for the host, @nanamiscocksleeve!! I hope I did you proud, enjoy~ Merry Christmas! 🥰

You’re not trying to fall asleep. In fact, it’s the opposite, you want nothing more than to stay awake, not quite ready to put an end to the most magical Christmas of your life. 

In the back of your mind, you can still see the gorgeous lodge coming into view. Puffs of white smoke floating out of the chimney. A fresh blanket of snow covering the roof and the ground. The image of icicles hanging off the roof’s edge sparkling like crystals in the morning sun and the Christmas tree glittering in the window with white lights twinkling between the dark green branches still vivid in your memory.

It was the most perfect day — a surprise gift from Zayne to celebrate your first Christmas together — complete with a full day of skiing and a lovely dinner at the lodge restaurant.

You don’t want this day to end just yet. You want to enjoy this moment, savor it — not quite ready to say good night to the golden glow of the fire, the soft bed and the luxurious, silky sheets, and Zayne’s arms wrapped around you while your head rests on his chest. But you can’t fight it, the crackle of the wood fireplace too soothing, the warmth of his embrace too relaxing, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat in your ear too comforting. Especially with your belly full of a delicious meal and mulled wine and the fatigue of today’s skiing session settling in your aching limbs.

“Are you falling asleep?” The deep rumble of his voice cuts through the cozy silence.

“No,” you utter, forcing your fluttering eyes open, desperately trying to fight the lull of sleep. You feel his fingers comb through your hair, the caress of his fingertips only making it harder to keep your drowsiness at bay.

“Liar,” he chuckles, the sound deep in his throat.

“I’m not lying,” you weakly protest, but your closed eyes say otherwise. You hear Zayne hum, an affectionate note of disbelief. “Really, I’m not.”

“It’s been a long day. You should sleep if you’re tired,” Zayne says softly, adding a teasing, “Doctor’s orders.”

“I don’t wanna.” 

“Do you want me to keep you awake?”

“Yes, please,” you mumble, half-asleep.

You don’t hear Zayne reply, though you’re unsure you would have even if he did as your mind drifts off to a place somewhere between here and the land of dreams. The next thing you know, you’re jolted awake. You’re flat on your back, blinking up at the ceiling and wondering what the hell just happened while Zayne looms over you, caging you between his arms. His face is inches away from your own, so close his nose just barely grazes yours and you can feel his breath warm your cheek.

“Zayne?!” you yelp, staring at him wide-eyed, all traces of sleep banished from your startled mind.

“You asked me to keep you awake, didn’t you?” he remarks with an amused chuckle.

“Wha—” Before you can finish, his lips are on yours, stealing the words right out of your mouth.

Zayne’s tongue traces the crevice between your lips, and out of habit, you part them ever so slightly allowing him to slip inside. With your eyes closed, your hands find their way to his shoulders and then around his neck. He takes your lips slowly��� sensually… The musk of his cologne and the hint of mulled wine still lingering on his tongue cloys your senses, and your heart flutters in your chest, thrumming with pleasure. Your lips come together and pull apart in passionate increments, deepening every time they reunite. By the time he pulls away, you’re panting, trying to catch your breath.

“Are you awake now?” Zayne asks, his eyes twinkling down at you.

Your lips purse together into a pout. “I wasn’t falling asleep to begin with.”

Zayne brings his head to your neck, grazing the flesh with his teeth, his breath hot on your skin. “What did I say about lying to me, darling?”

“I’m not!” you exclaim, shivering only to squeak when he bites down on that ticklish spot beneath your ear. “Zayne!”

“You know I don’t like it when you lie to me,” he purrs, gently sucking where it stings. “Now be a good girl and answer me. Are you awake now?”

A spark of electricity prickles down your body, and you shudder. You briefly contemplate whether you should dig in your heels, be stubborn, but his soft lips on your neck feel so good, you don’t want him to stop. “Yes,” you breathlessly accede. “I’m… mmm… I’m awake.”

“Good…” His mouth moves lower, leaving a trail of feather-light kisses in its wake. “...because I’ve wanted to do this…” He nips yet another ticklish point, swirling his tongue over the forming bruise. “...all day.”

You cling to him, involuntarily arching your back, one hand sliding up the back of his head where your fingers tangle through his hair. You can’t help the sultry moans that escape you or how you squirm as he continues to tease all the sensitive points of your neck. By now, any remaining tendrils of slumber have vanished, replaced by a wanton desire. You crave his touch, his caress, him.

“And because it’s Christmas…” he murmurs, his voice deep and throaty. “...I plan on taking my time unwrapping my Christmas present.”

His words send a shiver down your spine, a thrilling anticipation building in your core. His knee comes between your legs, brushing against the apex, and a jolt careens through your body. You can feel your desire pooling, growing… A voracious hunger that can only be satisfied by him.

Zayne’s mouth continues its descent, ending only when it reaches your collarbone peeking out of your silk pajama top. His fingers slip through the opening, stroking the skin underneath and deftly undoing each button one by one. It feels hot every time they graze your skin, each graze sending yet another shiver through your flushed body. Each touch eliciting yet another charged gasp from your kiss-swollen lips. 

“I haven’t even started yet, and you’re already moaning so sweetly for me.” Zayne takes his time parting your open shirt, slipping it off one shoulder, then the next, down one arm, then the other. “I wonder what you’ll do when I do this…”

Your body spasms, a startled squeal flying out your mouth when Zayne’s teeth catch your nipple. You arch into him. Your fingernails dig into his back. Your fingers pull his hair. A hot wave of pleasure crashes over you, and a restless ache stirs deep in your abdomen.

“Zayne…” you hoarsely whisper, trembling and shaking as Zayne tastes your breasts, swirling his tongue over the peaks and massaging them with his large hand. 

“I love how you say my name,” Zayne groans. 

Pulling back onto his knees, he hooks his fingers under the waistbands of both your pajama pants and your underwear, sliding them down slowly. He takes his time, savoring the sight of you coming into view bit by bit. With every inch exposed, the heat in his eyes grows darker. More urgent. A dark heat that stokes a fire deep in your belly.

He places a hand on each of your thighs, parting them enough for his wide shoulders to fit in between, and he kisses your inner thigh, starting from the midpoint and working his way up dangerously close to where your arousal glistens. He slides a finger through your slick folds, grinning as he rubs his pointer and his thumb together.

“Someone’s eager for me,” he smirks. 

You feel your cheeks color because you know just how much of a mess you make merely being in his presence, let alone when he touches you like this, and from how much throb down there… you know just how much of a mess you’ve already made. His rapt attention makes you feel self-conscious, the way he takes note of every little detail while you’re so exposed.

Zayne returns his attention to between your legs, resuming his grip on your upper thighs. Lowering himself, he deeply inhales your scent, groaning as he does. “God, I love the way you smell.” His mouth encircles your clit, the tip of his tongue darting out and prodding the sensitive nub, massaging it in circles. “I love the way you taste.”

Each stroke of his tongue sends you reeling, a jolt of electricity sizzling up your spine as your muscles tense and you arch your back, your hips bucking against him. Breathless gasps leave your mouth in erratic spurts, and your fingers curl into the sheets, clenching the fabric as if your life depended on it. With just his mouth, Zayne has you seeing stars and crying out his name in strained mewls.

“Zayne, please…” you beg him, the stimulation too much, the desire to feel him inside you too big. You squirm, trying to find some relief from how he tantalizes you, but his grip holds you in place no matter how much you struggle. “Please…”

“No,” Zayne rasps, the timbre of his voice low and husky. “I’m taking my time today, sweetheart. I want to taste you, savor you, devour you. I’m going to worship you like the gift you are.”

He slips a finger in, and then another, curling them against the sweet, gummy spot that makes you squeal. He pumps them in and out while his mouth continues to ravish you, coaxing you into crying his name, moaning breathlessly for him. If you thought his mouth was enough to have you seeing stars, the addition of his fingers sends you into a feverish frenzy, all your senses overloaded.

“It’s t—too… much, Zayne,” you plead, “...ngh… to—too much.”

“You can handle it, love.”

But even as tears prick the corners of your eyes and your legs tremble, Zayne doesn’t stop, alternating between relentlessly bullying or worshipping you — sweet and rough, soft and hard — leaving you feeling dizzy and disoriented and close… so close.

“Zayne…” you choke out, trailing off.

Zayne understands what you’re trying to say and before sucking down hard on your clit, he commands, “Come for me.”

Something about the commanding authority in his tone throws gasoline on the fire burning in your center. It blazes into an inferno, and as the heat overtakes you, you wretchedly call out his name, a guttural scream rising from deep within and exploding out your throat. You’re so consumed, you can barely feel his fingers dig into your flesh or his tongue find its way to your entrance and lap up every drop of your arrival. All you can do is shudder and quake, riding out each wave of ecstasy.

When the waves finally stop, you can barely breathe. Your chest heaves up and down, desperate for oxygen to fill its lungs, and you can’t stop quivering as if phantom waves still pulsate through your body. You watch through hooded eyes as Zayne sits back on his knees and wipes the remnants of your ecstasy off of his face. He leans forward, propping himself on his elbows and hovering over you, just enough that his body is flush against yours without crushing you with his weight.

He looks deep into your eyes, a primal yet tender gleam in their depths, and gently, ever so gently, he brushes away a sweaty lock of hair, tucking it behind your ear. “You did good,” he coos, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

You wrap your arms around him, returning his little kiss with a little one of your own on the tip of his nose. “Merry Christmas,” you murmur, nuzzling your nose against him. “Thank you so much for making our first Christmas so special. I love it. I love you.”

“I’m glad you like it. I love you too.” Zayne brings his lips by your ear, and then whispers, “But, I’m not quite done with you yet.”

It’s at that moment, you realize how painfully hard his erection is digging into your pelvis and how the dark gleam in his eye has only grown darker instead of abating. You tremble once more, but this time, it’s from the butterflies fluttering in your stomach, the thrill of anticipation buzzing through your veins.

“Help me take off my shirt,” Zayne murmurs silkily in your ear.

You’re only happy to oblige, and as your fingers make their way to the line of buttons on his top, you can’t help, but think it’s going to be a long night though you have no complaints. In fact, it’s the opposite, you hope this night never ends.

[savi0rr]

thought abt viktor and wifey scenarios

- "you're staring!" "I like seeing you happy love"

- matching fits!!

- jayce and mel spying on them obv

- reading tgt!!

- picnic date + stargazing!

- meet jayce and mel? yea!!

- viktor being a softie for his wife and wifey js being the darling she is 🫶

Cozy Wife .ᐟ

Viktor x Fem! Wife! Reader

In which, sitting by the fire with a book can be romantic. If you weren’t being stalked by a nosy duo.

a/n: no one talk to me on Sunday (the eras tour is ending)

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

“Dear, which book should we read?” you asked, your fingers gliding over the myriad of titles that crowded the bookshelf. The scent of aged paper and wood filled the cozy room, mingling with the warmth radiating from the crackling fireplace in front of you. Viktor remained silent for a moment, his brow furrowed in concentration as he settled onto a small, soft cushion near the hearth. The dance of the flames cast a gentle flickering light across his thoughtful features. 

“Nothing nerdy,” you added playfully, glancing sideways at him, your eyes sparkling with mischief. Viktor raised an eyebrow in mock indignation and rolled his eyes, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You pick,” he replied, leaning his crutch against the side of the cushion before resting his arm on his knee with a soft sigh. 

You nodded, your gaze darting to the shelves again. The colorful spines of novels seemed to whisper secrets and stories, each one beckoning for attention. After a brief moment of contemplation, you selected a book with an elegant cover adorned with swirls of gold. “Romance?” you teased, walking over to him with a playful sway in your step, taking a seat beside him, the cushion sinking slightly under your weight. 

Viktor perked up, his curiosity piqued as he tilted his head in your direction. “Romance? Of course…” he muttered under his breath in a tone that was half-annoyed and half-interested. You couldn’t help but giggle, your excitement bubbling over as you curled up next to him, feeling the warmth radiating from his body. 

Slowly, he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, but you noticed his muscles tensed slightly upon the contact of your skin against his. “You’re so dramatic,” you remarked, casting him a sideways glance as you opened the book to the first page, the pages crisp and fresh. 

“I am not,” Viktor shot back quickly, his voice sharp but betraying a hint of humor as he let out a small huff of frustration. You laughed, shaking your head with mirth. “I’m only teasing!” you said, prompting another huff from him. “… Kind of.”

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

Just then, Jayce and Mel poked their heads over the windowsill, their curious eyes shining with interest as they observed the warm scene unfolding. “Oh my,” Mel drawled, raising an eyebrow and smirking at the sight of you and Viktor nestled together. “They look comfy,” she teased, glancing at Jayce, who seemed mesmerized as he focused intently on the two of you, utterly engrossed in the moment.

Leaning your head against Viktor’s shoulder, you let your eyes dance over the text on the page, becoming engrossed in the words. Meanwhile, unbeknownst to you, Viktor was not actually reading; his eyes were fixated on you, mesmerized by the way the light from the fire softly illuminated your features, making your skin glow and your eyes sparkle like precious gems as they reflected the flames. He felt his heart begin to race, causing him to shift slightly on the cushion, a wave of nervous energy coursing through him.

“You okay?” you asked, perking up at his movement and momentarily breaking your focus on the book. Viktor felt his cheeks warm, his pulse quickening under your gaze. “I’m fine, love,” he muttered quietly, briefly diverting his eyes to the book before flicking them back to you. In that moment, your eyes locked, and your hands slowly slipped away from the book to rest in your lap. 

“Do I have something on my face?” you asked softly, tilting your head to the side with a curious expression. Viktor, entranced by your earnestness, remained silent for a heartbeat before gently reaching up to caress your cheek with his thumb, eliciting a flutter of warmth from within you. The world around you seemed to vanish as you both leaned in slowly, drawn together by an invisible thread, feeling the warmth of each other's breath against your lips.

But just as the moment reached its delicate climax, a sudden crash echoed from outside, jolting you both apart. It was Jayce, having lost his balance, who landed unexpectedly on his back with a loud thud, sending an outside seal clattering to the ground beside him. Mel stumbled after him but managed to land gracefully on her feet, her expression a mix of astonishment and amusement. 

“What on Earth?” you muttered in disbelief, both startled and amused as you stood up, your heart racing from both the interrupted moment and the unexpected noise. Viktor’s hands fell away from you as you rushed to the window, peeking outside but finding everything oddly still. “That’s odd,” you grumbled, closing the blinds with a decisive click before walking back to join him on the cushion once more. 

He quickly placed his arm around your shoulder again, his fingers idly toying with the collar of your shirt, his warmth enveloping you once more. “Where were we?” he asked, trying to regain the atmosphere.

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

“You idiot,” Mel called out to Jayce as they both ambled back toward the Academia, her voice laced with lighthearted reproach. Jayce, still on the ground, rubbed his back with a grimace of embarrassment. “I don’t know what happened,” he mumbled, cheeks aflame from the fall and the attention, attempting to mask his discomfort with a nervous chuckle.

[bbkoolkatz]

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　mama... I fucked a criminal! k. bakugo!

pairing: prisoner katsuki x prison guard reader!

cw: porn with plot? female reader, explicit adult content, strong sexual themes, profanity, power dynamics, imprisoned!katsuki!, verbal teasing and taunting, consensual sexual acts, embarrassment, spanking, groping, mentions of getting caught! reader discretion is advised.

2.3k+ words!

MDNI!!!

there was nothing that really got to you. you've grown used to the criminals in their cells telling you all the nasty things they'd do to you, if you let them out or if you came in. but it never hit your skull like the way his words did...

"oi, sweets, y' just gonna stand there all day, or y' gonna come in 'n keep me comp'ny?" him —the man behind the reinforced glass, infamous traitor, the explosive ex-hero Dynamight—

you didn't even glance at him, staring straight ahead at the blank wall across from you. you knew better than to feed into his games. yet, somehow... he always managed to get under your skin.

"silent treatment, huh?" he mocked, words rolling off his tongue oh so smoothly. " 's fine. I can talk enough fer both of us." it's like second nature to him with how often he taunted you, feeding off of every little reaction you gave.

you clenched your jaw, refusing to let his words phase you. It had been like this every shift since they assigned you to guard this cell where, the Dynamight, was locked away, and for reasons you couldn't fathom, it was your job to keep him in line.

"yer real cute when yer all serious, y'know that?" he drawled, the grin in his voice clear even if you refused to look. "bet yer just dyin' t' say somethin' t' me."

your grip on your firearm tightened. "shut up."

his laughter was low and raspy, echoing off the cell walls. "oh, there she isss. knew you couldn't resist me, sweets."

you turned your head slightly, glaring at him through the glass. his orange jumpsuit was tight on his arms, veins bulging from them, his blond spikes of hair messier than usual, hanging right above his crimson eyes, that sparkled with mischief. he was lounging on the narrow bed in his cell like he didn't have a care in the world, one arm draped behind his head as he smirked at you.

"don't call me that," you snapped.

"what, sweets?" he teased, leaning forward just enough to rest his elbows on his knees. "would ya' prefer somethin' else? Doll? Babe? Honey? y' gotta tell me what gets ya goin', princess."

your face burned, and you turned away quickly, cursing yourself for reacting, as you squeezed your thighs together. you could feel his gaze like a physical weight on your back, and you knew he was loving every second of it.

"aw don' be like that," he cooed, voice softer but no less taunting. "yer my only entertainment in this place. least y' could do is let me have some fun."

"this isn't fun," you muttered, trying to sound firm, but all he heard was, cute... "this is my job."

"n' yer real good at it, too," he goaded, standing and moving closer to the glass where you stood. "but yer not exactly subtle, y'know." he teased, "I see the way yer hands shake when I talk t' ya', the way yer cheeks get all red." and he glaced down your body, "n' the way those fuckin' thighs squeeze t'gether... y' like it, don'tcha?"

you spun around to face him, your heart pounding in your chest. "I do not."

he grinned wider, pressing his palm flat against the glass. "yer a terrible liar, princess."

the way he said it, so smug and self-assured, made you want to scream. but you knew that's exactly what he wanted. he thrived on your frustration, on the little cracks in your composure, even if he only saw it for a split second.

"shift exchange." a voice crackled over the speaker, clipped and monotonous.

you exhaled a breath you didn't realize you'd been holding, turning your gaze back to the glass. katsuki's smirk was nothing short of devilish as he leaned against the barrier, his perfectly crimson eyes locking onto yours like a predator savoring his prey.

"that's my cue," you muttered, hoping the tremor in your voice wasn't as obvious as it felt.

"aww, don' look so disappointed," he drawled, "yer playin' with my feelin's here." his tone was mocking but dangerously, dangerously smooth. "i'll be right here, waitin' for ya, sweets. same time, same place. maybe next time, i'll even sweeten the deal fer ya."

you rolled your eyes, stepping back as another guard arrived to relieve you. his eyes followed you as you left, grin widening when you hesitated at the door.

"don' forget about me, sweetcheeks," he rasped, voice dripping with amusement. "i'll be thinkin' of ya."

you didn't look back. how could you forget about him? you spent months guarding his ass... your boots echoed against the cold floor as you walked away, but his words followed you, curling around and suffocating you like smoke.

you rubbed your temples. katsuki had this uncanny ability to irritate you, to pick apart your defenses with precision. and it was maddening.

yet… there was a heat that refused to dissipate, a knot forming in your lower belly that you couldn't quite shake. the sound of his voice replaying in your mind like a broken record.

"get a grip," you muttered to yourself, but even as you said it, you knew it wouldn't be that simple. there was already an itch he created inside you... 'cause he was as far under your skin as he could get, and he wasn't leaving anytime soon...

the other day, they called you in early, for god knows what reason, and he hasn't shut his mouth from the moment he saw you, till now.

"why don'tcha just admit it?" he teased, in almost a purr as he leaned his head on the glass... "admit y' like the way I talk t' ya... the way I look at yer ass in those tight pants... admit y' thought about openin' this door and lettin' me—"

"that's enough." you cut him off, your voice sharper than you intended. and you took a deep breath, trying to ease the ache he made you feel in the pit of your stomach, "you're wasting your breath."

"am i?" he asked, tilting his head, leaning forward, and studying you like you were the most interesting thing he'd ever seen.

you tilted your head in the opposite direction and subconsciously leaned closer... like you were leaning in for a kiss, "yes..." you whispered, fogging the glass with the heat of your breath.

-

"i've fucked ya' a hundred times over in my head," he leaned over and groaned in your ear, "watching yer uniform hug them pretty fuckin' thighs instead o' me..." he smacked your plump ass and smirked when it rippled under his palm, plowing himself into you, scratching that itch he embedded deep in your cunt.

"such a pretty fuckin' thing aren't ya," he prodded, landing another stinging smack on the reddened flesh that he couldn't stop grabbing at. his fingers dug into the curve of your waist, pressing you down on the soft material of the makeshift mattress he spent all day and night on, thinking about fucking you.

the sounds of your squelching cunt filled his cell as his hips thwacked mindlessly into yours. and the salty sting of tears pricked at your eyes, as he had you bent over the edge of the platform jutting out from the wall, that he'd called his bed.

"i needa know, sweetcheeks," he huffed, "di'ja fuck yerself t' me when y' left?" and the feeling of him pumping his fat cock inside you stopped...

you hesitantly nodded, whining under him, as a series of incoherent babbles fell through your lips. "use yer words, baby." he encouraged, grinding his hips against you.

you turned away from him, soft moans leaving your throat, "m-mhmm," you whimpered, hoping he'll take that answer... he didn't... smack!

"uh-uhh babe," he goaded, "words, not whimpers." he slowly pulled his length out of your drippy pussy, running two fingers up and down between your lips.

"ahh- y-yes, hah," you whispered, burying your face into his pillow, to hide your embarrassment.

" 'm not hearin' ya baby, louder." he slapped your puffy clit, rubbing his fingers harder and faster between your sloppy folds.

... how did you end up here? well...

"c'mon sweets, jus' confess. promise I won' tell anyone," he playfully pouted, leaning on the barrier between you both, with an arm over his head as he looked down at you.

"you're insufferable," you muttered, turning back to face the dirty white wall.

"maybe," he said, laughing softly. "but ya can't get enough of it."

you tried to focus on your breathing, on calming the rapid beating of your heart sending throbs between your legs, on anything but the man behind you. but then he spoke again, his voice quieter this time.

"y'know," he said, "y' should loosen up a little. let yerself have a bit o' fun. life's too short to be so uptight, sweets."

you refused to respond, refused to give him the satisfaction. but his words lingered and replayed in your brain.

after a long pause, he chuckled again, the sound softer but no less infuriating. "i'll break through that wall o' yers eventually. n' when I do, yer not gonna know what hit ya'."

"keep dreaming." you said, your voice steady despite the heat still burning in your cheeks.

"oh I will." he replied, and you could hear the grin behind his words. "n' guess what? yer always the star o' the show."

now you're here, a pretty little mess pressed up under him as the tip of cock prods at your sopping wet entrance. " 'm not hearin' ya dollface," he crooned, pushing just his fat tip in and out of you, "won' put it back in 'til ya say it loud and clear f'me."

"mh- yes! alright! hah~" you groaned, frustrated with yourself that you gave into him, that he had this kind of hold on you... that it felt sooo fucking good when his veiny cock was stretching your tight pussy out...

"yes what? baby?" he sinks himself into you, inch by painstaking inch, stretching you open again.

"ahg- yes, I touch myself -hngh- thinkin' 'bout you..." your whining was music to his ears, hearing those words fall through your saliva covered lips, only making him grow harder inside you. smack! if only you could see how fucking hot you were as you looked back at him while he thrusted into your aching cunt.

"atta girl~" he grunted, with sloppy thrusts, hands bruising your hips with the hot grip he had on them. you reached a hand back trying to pry them off, but he grabbed your wrist, holding it hostage, using it to plow deeper into you. "don' try t' get my hands off." smack! "been watchin' y' through that fuckin' glass -ugh- fer too fuckin' long fer me t' not leave a few marks."

"shift exchange." . . . fuck. . .

"oh this is gonna be fuckin' sweet." he drawled, dragging you over to the same glass wall that separated you from him, "how long d'ya think we got 'til someone comes in?" he teased, grabbing handfuls of your tits as he rammed you into the glass.

"m-'bout, 5 -hngh- minutes?" you moaned, "l-less?- ahh~" rubbing at your wet sensitive clit.

"want me to stop?" he purred, sucking on the soft of your neck, pinching your perky nipples, "y'could come back t'mo-"

"no!" you gasped, repeatedly shaking your head, desperation taking you over, "please... i-i'm close..."

"didn't take ya fer such a freak sweetcheeks," he mused, using your neck to pull you back, for him to lock his lips with yours, his tongue shoving past yours to explore every crevice of your mouth, and by fuck, you're sweet as hell... you were driving him more insane than he already was.

he didn't care if anyone came in and saw him fucking your brains out and apparently, neither did you... kinda... all he cared for, was making you cum, whining and crying on his throbbing dick. "if ya' beg nice enough maybe i'll let ya'."

"huh?" you groaned, hasn't he embarrassed you enough already? no. "i'm not gonna-"

"'pretty pretty pretty please', 's all y' gotta say princess," he whispered, slowing his thrusts. "n' I'll make sure you cum all over my cock."

you groaned, trying to shove yourself back into him, and he chuckled at your attempt, firmly holding you in place, "mmh- p-pretty, pretty, pretty please?" a single tear fell down your cheek. "please make me cum!" he lapped at your cheek savoring the salty taste of the tears that followed the first.

"good girl~" he cooed, picking up his pace once more, drinking in each moan he fucked out of you, throwing in some of his own grunts and growls. he snaked his hand down your body, to rub and pinch at your swollen pleasure button, bringing you closer to climax.

" 'm c-cumming! ffuck!~" you clenched around him, feeling each ridge and vein of his pulsing hot dick and your legs gave out from under you as he rode you through your high. the only thing keeping you from falling to the cold floor was his toned body pressing yours into the glass, with your tits squished between his pair of musclebound arms. his head dropped to rest in the crook of your neck, as he heaved a series of pleasure filled curses.

"on your feet," he rasped, finally pulling away and out of you, making you whine a little with how abrupt he was, "ya' needa put yer uniform back on," he grinned, picking it up off the floor to throw it at you. " 'm keepin' these." his hands held up the little fabric of your underwear as he shoved them into his jumpsuit.

"huh? i need those!" you complained, reaching to get them back only for him to pull you into another tongue hungry kiss, leaving a string of saliva when he pulled away.

he licked the plump surface of your now pink lips, "i need 'em more, sweetcheeks." and he left one last smack on your sore ass before you got dressed and your shift ended... ꨄ

didn't know how to end it... :/ mlist

[saphiccarma]

Heyyy, I've never requested anything before so hopefully this isnt too much 😭 but could u do agathario x reader, where reader dies maybe from like disease or she somehow gets caught in a scene where agatha is trying to steal a covens power, and like rio doing everything to fight against her duty and having to take one of her lovers, maybe reader doesn't die instantly but she's like dying in agathas arms and is trying to soothe her wives. Idk if that makes sense its ok if you can't 😭 i hope you have a great day💕💕

- It was not your fault, but mine.

Relationships - Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary - Being married to Agatha and Rio was perhaps your favorite thing ever, the best part of your life. You wanted to be with them forever, but that wish is threatened when you touch a mysterious object outside and fall ill.

Warnings: Major character death, angst

A/N: I love this so much and it was fun to write. Thank you for the request!

You had technically got married to Agatha and Rio for about a year now. Since your type of relationship wasn't excepted by the town you lived in, the three of you got quietly married in a little cottage in the middle of the woods. This was where you spent most of your time, sitting in the cottage and reading books, or picking flowers, or testing out new recipes you wanted to try. Agatha and Rio come and go as they please, always too busy to stay in one place, and you were fine with that. They were still good wives.

Absent mindedly you kicked a rock, the little stone flying across the leaf littered ground and crashing into a tree. They had both been gone for weeks and you had heard no sign of them, no magical raven that had a letter attached to its foot, no quick check in, nothing. While you trusted them and their abilities it had begun to worry you. You stumbled a bit, tripping across something that protruded out of the ground. Letting out a quiet curse, you looked back to see what it was.

A glowing rock, a faint pink hue emitting off of it, sat nestled in the red and orange leaves. You crouched down and grabbed a stick next to you, pointing at it. When it did nothing, you reached towards it, and against your better judgement, picked it up. Searing pain shot through you, fiery sparks crackling through you. You gasped, your eyes squeezing shut as you tried to drop the rock. It didn't fall from your hand as intended. Panic spread through you rapidly as your heart beat faster and faster. The thing was now a bright pink, sparkling so bright it hurt your eyes, and stuck to your hand.

Pain coursed your body, every inch of you filled with searing pain. In a brief moment of clarity, you grabbed a stick from the ground, and making a big effort, traced a circle in the dirt and drew an X through it. Words were whispered from your mouth slowly as you chanted the spell. The lines in the dirt began to glow a soft green color and it wasn't long before they flashed brightly before disappearing.

"I was in the middle of something darling," Rio began, her tone playful and light. Then she paused, her eyes catching on your hand. "What happened?"

You grunted, "I don't know."

She rolled her eyes at your lack of response, taking a step closer and trying to grab your hand. You yanked it away, afraid she would get hurt as well, and that was the last thing you wanted. Rio rolled her eyes once more, fixing you with a reprimanding look.

"Let me see." Rio took your wrist in her hand, not caring much to be gentle, and turned it over, examining the stone. A curious hum escaped her as she poked at it.

"Well?" you hissed, flinching as her nails dug into your skin. She dug her nails deeper, ignoring your whimper of pain, and drew blood. The red droplets spread down your wrist. "What the hell Rio?" You were not in the mood for her jokes right now.

Your wife smiled at you, her dashing and cheeky smile that you had grown to love. Slowly, eyes meeting yours the entire time, she brought your hand up to her mouth and licked strip across the crescent shaped marks. The second she did so, your hand loosened and the rock dropped from your grip, landing on the floor with a thunk. A sigh of relief escaped you as you fell to the ground, laying on your back with your arms spread out. The searing pain that had coated your body dispersed.

Rio chuckled above you, her eyes sparkling with mischief, "Better?"

You nodded, rubbing your wrist absent mindedly, still feeling her soft lips there.

"You know what would make it even better?" You raised both your brows, "A kiss."

Laughing softly, her eyes rolling once more, Rio crouched down. Her lips met yours in a harsh kiss, she was never gentle.

^___________^

It turns out, the three of you had found, that the rock carried a deadly curse. Agatha had kicked the thing, sending it flying before Rio reluctantly retrieved it. The two had been frantically trying to find a cure, despite their supposed casual appearance, you knew it was stressing them out. While they were plagued with the stress of finding a cure, you were plagued with constant pain.

A sharp pain that shot through you. Some days it was manageable, some days it left you crippled in bed, unable to move and barely able to talk. Those were the days that worried your wives the most. Today, thankfully, was one of the good days. You sat with Agatha on the porch, her arms wrapped around you.

"You know I wanted kids," you said suddenly, your fingers toying with her own as you twisted them together, "Or at least one."

You felt Agatha inhale sharply, "We'll have them," she said fiercely, "We can have kids." The sun was setting slowly in the distance, the sky a perfect hue of pink and red. You always had loved the sunsets, and the sunrises, but there was something special about sunsets.

In the distance you could see Rio, perched by the edge of the woods, green magic swirling around her as she did who knows what. She had asked to be alone during the time being. But still, you couldn't help but watch as her arms moved fluidly to cast the spells, her body moving as if in a dance. A soft smile crossed your face.

"Agatha," you whispered softly, "You know that's not going to happen." Looking up at her, you saw her jaw clenched and a dangerous glimmer in your eyes. You knew, that if you died Agatha would take it the hardest. She would blame Rio and that was the last thing you wanted. You gently tugged her fingers, intertwining yours with hers.

"I'd want a boy I would name him Nicholas, little Nicky for short. Ideally, he would have Rio's eyes and your hair, my face, he would be perfect," you smiled up at her, pleased to see a dreamy look in her eyes. It wasn't often that Agatha indulged in fantasies about the future, but she always tried with you. You could imagine a boy, brown eyes that were darker than the night sky, but could hold so much emotion like his mother. Brown hair that was just a little bit wavey, and you would let it grow out if he wanted it to. And lastly, your smile, your nose, all your facial features. He would be the perfect mix up of the three of you. Something that was created through a force of love, but no outside magic used.

Her features softened even further when you winced, a pain flaring up in your back. You waved away her concern, straightening out.

"Would we make him with a spell?" she asked, her voice lowered to match yours.

You shook your head, "No. We would make him from scratch. No incantaion, no spell, no magic."

A little laugh escaped Agatha. She pressed her lips down onto your head, burrowing herself in your hair.

"Whatever you say my love."

^_____________^

You sat in the fields, twisting flowers in your hands to form a crown. This one was made with dandelions, the stems intertwined as you threaded them through each other. Two other crowns sat next to you, one with azaleas and the other with black roses. You had plucked the thorns off of course, not that Rio would care.

One of the perks of being married to a green witch was that she could produce any flowers you wanted, and she did just that. Rio always grew flowers if you asked them, even if she rolled her eyes and said they were too colorful for her taste, she wanted to make you happy.

Your fingers twitched as pain flared through you, but you worked through the pain. The two had gone out that morning in search of other possible cures, but promised to be back in time to sleep with you. The sun was setting in the distance, the sky a beautiful gradient of orange and yellow.

Crows cawed above you, their black wings flapping as they soared in circles. A little smile flitted across your face. Both of your lovers adored crows, their passion for them always made you happy. Before you had more time to ponder if Rio was up in the crows, there was a hot breath in your ear.

“Boo.”

You jumped away, placing a hand over your heart as you glared at Rio. She was cackling, nearly falling back into Agatha who stood with an amused smile on her face. The purple witch shoved Rio away, moving forward and placing a tender kiss on your lips.

“I made you something,” you scooped up the azalea flower crown and stood, placing it one her head despite her pout, “Can’t you at least pretend to like it?”

Agatha rolled her eyes, “It’s amazing darling, I love it.”

Smiling happily, you rewarded her with a soft kiss before turning to Rio who was watching the scene quietly. You weren’t even sure when she had stopped laughing.

“Ooo,” she cooed, stepping closer, her finger curling as she took hold of her crown, “I love it, my love.”

You blushed at her words. While you loved Agatha’s pet names, Rio’s did something to you. The Green Witch placed it on her head with a broad smile.

“Do you have one?” Rio looked around, her eyes landing on the dandelions in the grass. She reached down, scooping it up before placing it on your head with a proud smile.

Agatha came up behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist, “You look beautiful darling.”

A deep blush crossed your face when her breath fanned against your neck. Rio took a step closer, her finger curling under your chin. A sinister smirk crossed her face.

“Good enough to eat.”

^_____________^

You coughed harshly as you curled into a ball, pain flaring up everywhere in your body. Everything hurt and it felt like you were on fire. Agatha's fingers clutched you tightly, one of her hands carding through your hair as she attempted to comfort you. Rio was no where to be seen.

"Agatha," you choked out.

The woman above you shook her head, "Don't say it. You're fine. It'll pass."

You wanted to smile at her stubbornness, it was always your favorite trait about her. These past few days the curse had been getting worse, and Rio was disappearing more and more often. You knew what that meant. You were fairly certain Agatha knew what it meant, she just didn't want to admit it. Trying to fight through the sparks that shot through you, you played with her fingers, bringing them to your lips.

Your words were soft against her skin, "I love you."

"No, you have more time," she said harshly.

You felt it when Rio entered and based on Agatha's sharp inhale, you knew what she was here for. Painfully, you turned your head to look at Rio, clad in her green dress that represented the part of her that was alive. A bitter smile crossed your face.

"Don't take her," Agatha spat, her grip tightening on you despite your wince, "You can't." Trying to force words out of your mouth, you wanted to tell Agatha it was okay, that it wasn't Rio's fault. "If you do this I will hate you."

Rio's features flinched, but she made no move to step closer, "I held it off as long as I could."

"It's not her time," Agatha snarled.

While it was painful, you reached up, your hand cupping Agatha's cheek to force her to look at you, "My love," you whispered softly, "I have to go."

"No." She shook her head, so much desperation conveyed into that one movement.

"Don't hate her. Please? It's not her fault."

“I don’t want to do it,” Rio added, her voice wavering, and it was the first time you had ever heard her sound so fragile, so vulnerable.

Agatha's lower lip wobbled, tears shimmering in her eyes as she clenched her jaw, fighting off the sorrow. She closed her eyes, a small tear slipping out at the action and you wanted nothing more than to give her a big hug.

Her voice was oh so quiet when she whispered, "Okay."

A small smile spread across your face. It was only then that Rio came closer, bending down so her lips were just above yours. So many emotions were conveyed through her eyes. Words asking for forgiveness, ones that expressed her sadness, and some angry. You wanted to give her a hug too. Instead, Rio leant down, her lips brushing against yours.

The kiss deepened and that's when you felt the pain stop.

[bangchansdirty-slut]

Could you go a bottom GP Giselle and Karina x top male reader? but the male reader fucks them?

Let's Tease The Manager

•───⋅⋆⁺‧₊☽⛦☾₊‧⁺⋆⋅───•

Paring: Bottom!GP!Giselle and Karina x Top!Male Reader

Genre: smut

Requested

More: Masterlist

A/n: Requests are open

•───⋅⋆⁺‧₊☽⛦☾₊‧⁺⋆⋅───•

Giselle leaned into the camera lens, her English tinged with a playful Japanese accent. "And we're live!" she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with mischief. Karina, the epitome of cool confidence, giggled next to her, the sound as delicate as a wind chime in a gentle breeze. They were backstage at a music showcase, surrounded by the organized chaos that came with every performance. The vlog was supposed to be a peek into the lives of aespa, but it had quickly devolved into a playful battle of teasing glances and sly smirks aimed directly at their manager.

M/n, the unsuspecting target of their flirtatious banter, did his best to maintain his professional demeanor, but the heat rising in his cheeks was a telltale sign of his flustered state. He had always been the stoic pillar of the group, keeping them in line and making sure everything ran smoothly, but tonight, the girls had decided to turn the tables. Every question he asked was met with a knowing smile and a subtle wink that seemed to speak a thousand naughty words. The tension grew with each passing second, and he could feel the electricity crackling in the air around them.

After the successful vlog, M/n couldn't shake off the feeling of excitement and anticipation that had built up during the filming. The playful glances and bold gestures from Karina and Giselle had him on edge, and he couldn't help but wonder what they had in store for him. As he made his way to his small apartment adjacent to the aespa dorms after the manager's meeting, the thought of their teasing lingered in his mind.

Opening the door to his room, the sight before him made his heart race. There they were, the two idols out of the four he had come to care for deeply, sprawled out on his bed in a set of matching lingerie that left almost nothing to the imagination. Their breasts spilled over the tops, and their cocks strained against the delicate fabric. They looked up at him with a mix of innocence and challenge, their eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Well, manager," Giselle purred, her voice dripping with seductive intent, "do you like what you see?"

M/n's eyes widened, his professional facade slipping for a brief moment. He took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. "What's the meaning of this?" he asked, his voice gruff, but the tremble in his tone betraying his excitement.

Giselle and Karina shared a look that screamed 'we've got him' before breaking into peals of laughter. "We couldn't help ourselves," Karina said, her eyes dancing with amusement. "We wanted to see how far we could push your buttons."

M/n's mind raced, trying to figure out the right response. He knew that as their manager, he should scold them, but the desire that flared within him was too strong to ignore. He decided to play along, his voice low and authoritative. "Then, I guess it's time for some punishment."

The girls looked at each other, their smiles fading into expressions of feigned fear. They obeyed as he instructed them to get on all fours. His heart hammered in his chest as he stepped closer, his eyes roaming over their toned figures. He gripped Giselle's firm ass with one hand, the other caressing Karina's. He slapped them both, watching as the flesh jiggled under the light touch of his palm. They both let out gasps, which only served to fuel his excitement.

Their teasing had gone too far, and now they were going to face the consequences. Giselle leaned into the slap, her eyes half-closed, as if savoring the sting. Karina's breath hitched, and she bit her bottom lip, her cheeks flushing a deep shade of pink. The room was thick with tension, but the air was also electric with desire. The sound of their breaths grew heavier as they waited for his next move.

M/n couldn't help but smirk at their reactions, his own arousal growing. He delivered another firm slap to each of their asses, watching as they both squirmed on the bed. Giselle reached back and playfully smacked his hand away, her eyes glinting with challenge. "Is that all you've got?" she teased.

Their playful banter continued as M/n grew bolder, his handprints leaving a rosy blush on their skin. The sound of skin meeting skin filled the room, punctuated by their gasps and giggles. He could feel the heat emanating from them, their bodies practically begging for more. It was time to up the ante.

"Alright, you two," he said, his voice steady despite the racing of his pulse. "You've been very naughty indeed. It seems like you need a more… personal form of punishment."

The girls looked over their shoulders at him, their eyes filled with a mix of excitement and trepidation. Giselle bit her lip, and Karina's cheeks grew even redder. They knew what was coming, and the anticipation was almost too much to bear.

M/n reached down and took hold of their lingerie, ripping it away to expose their eager cocks. They gasped in unison, their bodies quivering with excitement. He stepped back and gestured to the bed. "Get on your knees," he said firmly, and they complied without hesitation.

Giselle and Karina positioned themselves in front of him, their cocks standing tall and proud. They leaned into each other, their eyes locked in a silent dare. M/n felt a thrill run through him as he watched them begin to make out, their tongues dancing together as they stroked each other's shafts. He could see the passion in their eyes, the desire that mirrored his own.

He sat down on the bed, his gaze never leaving the entwined pair. His hand found its way to his own cock, stroking it gently as he watched them pleasure each other. The sight of their bodies moving in harmony was almost too much to handle. He reached out and gripped their hair, pulling them away from each other. They whined in protest, but he knew it was only part of the game.

"You're going to make it up to me," he said, his voice thick with lust. "You're going to show me how sorry you are for all your teasing."

Giselle and Karina looked up at him with a mix of excitement and submission, their eyes glazed over with desire. They didn't need to be told twice. They both took turns taking his cock into their mouths, their tongues swirling around the tip before Karina took the lead, sucking him deep. Giselle focused on his balls, her teeth grazing them lightly, making him jerk in pleasure. The sensation was overwhelming, and he could feel his orgasm building with each stroke of their tongues.

M/n's hands tightened in their hair, guiding their movements. The sight of these powerful, confident women on their knees before him, serving his desires, was intoxicating. They were both so eager, so hungry for his approval, and it only made him want them more. He leaned back, watching the show as they worked in tandem, their eyes meeting every now and then to share a secret smile.

The room was filled with the sounds of their eager sucking and slurping, punctuated by their occasional moans of pleasure. He could feel his orgasm building, a pressure at the base of his spine that grew stronger with every stroke of their tongues. His hips began to buck, pushing his cock deeper into Karina's mouth as Giselle massaged his shaft with her hand.

M/n knew he couldn't hold out much longer. "I'm going to cum," he warned them, his voice strained with pleasure. Karina looked up at him, her eyes watering slightly from the effort, and nodded. Giselle pulled back, watching intently as Karina continued to suck, her hand moving faster now.

With a final, powerful thrust, M/n's orgasm hit him like a wave. His body tensed, and he let out a roar as his cum spurted into Karina's mouth. She took it all, swallowing greedily before sitting back and letting Giselle take her place. They switched again, and Giselle licked him clean, her eyes never leaving his as she savored his taste.

The room was filled with the scent of sex and sweat, a heady aroma that seemed to intoxicate them further. M/n's chest heaved as he caught his breath, his heart racing in his ears. He looked at the two beautiful women before him, their faces flushed and their bodies glistening.

"Your turn," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. Giselle and Karina didn't need to be told twice. They both eagerly climbed onto the bed, taking their positions on either side of him. Giselle laid down first, her legs spread wide, inviting him in. He didn't hesitate, his hand sliding between her cheeks to feel her hole. His fingers moved in a tantalizing rhythm, teasing her aching hole as she gasped and arched her back. Giselle's hand moves down to her cock, stroking it in time with M/n's touch.

Karina straddled M/n, her own cock bobbing with excitement. She leaned in to kiss him, her tongue probing his mouth as he pushed his fingers deeper into Giselle. M/n's other hand moves to grap Karina's cock, stroking it in time with his movements in Giselle's ass. The room was a symphony of moans and whimpers, a delicious cacophony of desire.

Giselle's eyes rolled back in her head, her mouth open in a silent scream as she felt M/n's fingers hit just the right spot. She could feel the pressure building, the need for release almost unbearable. "Please," she whispered, her voice hoarse with need. "More."

M/n smirked, his eyes dark with lust as he pulled his hand away from Giselle's eager ass. "You want more?" he asked, his tone playful yet firm. "You'll have to earn it."

Giselle thumped her pillow in frustration, pouting up at M/n. "But we've been so good!" she protested, her voice a mix of seduction and whine.

M/n's smirk "I know you have," he said, his voice low and filled with promise. "But I want to hear you both beg."

Giselle and Karina exchanged a look, their cheeks flushed with excitement. They knew this was part of the game, and they were eager to play along. "Please, Manager oppa," Karina whispered, her voice a sultry purr that sent a shiver down his spine. "We'll do anything you say."

M/n leaned back, his gaze traveling over their bodies with a sense of possessiveness. "Tell me what you want."

Giselle's eyes narrowed playfully. "You know what we want," she murmured, her voice low and sultry. "We want your cock, Manager oppa. We want to feel you fill us up."

M/n chuckled, his hand still stroking Karina's cock. "And how badly do you want it?"

Giselle's voice was a whine, her hips rocking slightly. "We want it so badly," she moaned. "Please, M/n, fuck us."

M/n's smirk grew wider. "Say it," he demanded. "Say it like you mean it."

Karina's cheeks flushed an even darker shade of pink, but she didn't hesitate. "Please, Manager ," she moaned, her voice a sweet symphony of need. "We want your big cock. We need it in our tight asses. Please, Manager, fuck us. Make us your good little sluts."

M/n's smirk grew wider, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. "That's better," he murmured, his voice a dark promise. "Now, who's going to ride me first?"

Karina didn't waste any time. She pushed M/n down onto his back, her movements swift and decisive. Straddling him, she positioned herself over his hard cock, the tip just brushing against her eager hole. She looked into his eyes, a silent challenge, before she slowly lowered herself onto him. The feeling of his cock stretching her was exquisite, and she couldn't help but let out a long, low groan as she took him inch by inch.

M/n's eyes rolled back in his head as Karina's tightness enveloped him, her heat almost unbearable. He felt his cock pulse with each movement she made, and he had to bite his lip to keep from losing control too soon. He reached up to cup her breasts, his thumbs teasing her nipples as she began to move her hips in a slow, steady rhythm.

Turning his head to the side, M/n found Giselle's eager cock right there, waiting for him. He took the head into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the sensitive tip. Giselle's moan of pleasure was music to his ears, and he took her in deeper, feeling her quiver at the contact. Her hand found the back of his head, her nails digging into his scalp as she pushed herself into his mouth.

The sensation of her cock on his tongue was like nothing he had ever felt before. It was soft yet firm, the taste faintly sweet and musky. He sucked harder, feeling the veins pulse beneath the velvety skin. Giselle's hips began to move in tandem with Karina's, their bodies creating a delicious rhythm that had M/n's own cock throbbing with need. He could feel the heat of Karina's hole as she rode him, her walls tightening on his shaft with every movement.

Giselle's hand tightened in his hair, her strokes growing more erratic as she approached her climax. Her moans grew louder, mixing with Karina's cries of pleasure. M/n could feel his own orgasm building, but he held back, eager to give them both what they deserved. He reached up and began to fondle Giselle's ass, his fingers teasing her hole as she thrusted into his face.

With a final, desperate moan, Giselle came, her cum spurting into his mouth. He swallowed eagerly, the taste of her filling his mouth as she collapsed beside him, panting heavily. "Your turn," she murmured, her hand reaching down to stroke Karina's cock, which was now slick with precum.

Karina's eyes were glossed over with passion, her movements on M/n's cock growing more frantic. She leaned forward, her breasts bouncing with every bounce of her hips. M/n could feel her tight ass clenching around him, her walls tightening as she approached her peak.

Giselle, unable to resist the temptation, leaned over and captured one of Karina's nipples in her mouth, flicking it with her tongue before biting down gently. Karina gasped, arching her back, her movements becoming erratic. M/n sat up and mirrored her actions, his mouth latching onto the other nipple, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh. The two of them worked together, their mouths moving in perfect sync as they drove Karina wild.

Karina's eyes rolled back in pleasure, her hips moving faster and faster. The sensation was almost too much, the combination of Giselle's hot, wet mouth and M/n's firm grip on her other breast sending waves of pleasure through her body. She could feel her orgasm approaching, a pressure building deep in her stomach.

M/n, feeling the tightness of Karina's ass, knew she was close. He released her nipple with a pop and leaned back, watching as she rode him with desperate need. He took hold of Giselle's cock again, stroking it in time with Karina's movements. He could see the desire in her eyes, the way she watched him, eager for his touch.

The room was filled with the slap of skin on skin, the wet sounds of sex, and the cries of pleasure from both girls. It was a symphony of desire that M/n never wanted to end. He could feel Karina's orgasm approaching, her movements growing more and more erratic. With one final, powerful thrust, she came, her cum spurting onto M/n's chest as she collapsed forward, her body shaking with the force of her climax. M/n's climax followed shortly after, filling Karina's ass with his hot seed.

Breathless, Karina rolled off of M/n, her eyes glazed with pleasure. Giselle was quick to take her place, her cock still hard and demanding attention. "My turn," she murmured, her voice a seductive whisper. She straddled him, her eyes never leaving his as she sank down onto his cock, her walls stretching to accommodate his girth.

M/n groaned, his hands gripping her hips as she began to ride him with a ferocity that surprised him. She was a force to be reckoned with, her movements precise and powerful. He watched in awe as she threw her head back, her hair cascading down her back like a dark waterfall. The sight of her bouncing on his cock was almost too much to handle.

Karina, still panting from her orgasm, watched with wide eyes as Giselle took control. She lay beside them, her hand idly playing with her own cock, her breathing still ragged from the intensity of the moments before. The sight of Giselle riding M/n with such confidence was mesmerizing, and she couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy.

With a sudden burst of energy, Karina sat up and moved closer to Giselle, their bodies pressing together. "Let me taste you," she murmured, her voice hoarse. Giselle looked down at her, a wicked smile playing on her lips. She leaned in, their mouths meeting in a passionate kiss that was anything but gentle. Their tongues danced together, their teeth clashing as they both sought to claim dominance.

Their hands roamed over each other's bodies, exploring every inch of exposed skin. Karina's fingers found Giselle's breasts, her thumbs flicking the hardened nipples. Giselle gasped into the kiss, arching her back, and M/n took advantage of the moment to slap Karina's ass. She yelped in surprise, breaking the kiss to look over her shoulder at him. He smirked, his hand wrapping around her cock and giving it a firm squeeze.

"M/n," she moaned, her eyes fluttering shut. "It's still so sensitive."

M/n chuckled, his grip tightening slightly on Karina's cock. "You're just too tempting, aren't you?" he said, his voice a mix of teasing and lust. He watched as Karina leaned into the touch, her eyes closing in pleasure.

Giselle took that moment to pounce, her mouth attacking Karina's neck with a fervor that left no doubt about her desire. She kissed and sucked, her teeth grazing the delicate skin as she marked her territory. Karina's moans grew louder, her body responding to the mix of pleasure and pain.

M/n watched the scene unfold before him, his own arousal reaching new heights. He had never seen Giselle like this, so wild and uninhibited. Her eyes shone with a fiery passion as she rode him, her movements growing more erratic with each bite and suckle.

The room was a blur of limbs and desire, the air thick with the scent of sex and sweat. The only thing that grounded M/n was the feel of Giselle's tight ass bouncing on his cock and the sweet sound of her whimpers. He could feel his orgasm building again, his cock pulsing with every stroke.

Karina's hand slid down Giselle's back, coming to rest on M/n's thigh, her nails digging into his skin as she watched the two of them. Her eyes were dark with lust, her own need palpable. "Let me help," she murmured, her voice a sultry whisper.

M/n nodded, his eyes never leaving Giselle's face as Karina leaned over to kiss her neck, her teeth nipping gently. Giselle's moans grew louder, her hips moving faster as Karina's hand found its way to her cock. She began to stroke in sync with M/n's thrusts, her touch gentle yet firm.

The sensation was overwhelming, the pleasure almost unbearable. Giselle's eyes rolled back in her head, her body tensing as she reached for Karina's cock. The two of them stroked each other, their movements growing more frenzied as the tension built. M/n could feel it in the air, the electricity that crackled between them.

His hands moved to Giselle's hips, guiding her movements, his own need for release growing more urgent. He watched as Karina's hand moved faster, her strokes more erratic. He knew she was close, her breath hitching in her throat with every touch. He reached down and took over, his grip firm and sure as he brought her to the brink.

With a final, desperate cry, Karina came, her body shaking with the force of her orgasm. Her cum spurted onto Giselle's thigh, mixing with the sweat that already coated their bodies. Giselle watched her intently, her own climax approaching rapidly.

M/n felt Giselle's muscles tighten around his cock as she reached her peak. He gripped her hips tightly, pushing her down onto him as he thrust upwards, feeling her walls clench around him. She threw her head back and screamed, her body trembling as she came, her cum spurting onto M/n's abdomen.

M/n made a few last thrust before filling Giselle full off his cum. She collapsed on top of him, her breathing heavy and her heart racing. Their bodies were slick with sweat and cum, melding them together in a sticky, delicious mess.

For a moment, the three of them just laid there, basking in the afterglow. M/n's arms wrapped around Giselle's waist, holding her in place as she gently rode out the waves of her orgasm. Karina lay beside them, her hand stroking Giselle's back as she watched the intimate moment with a small smile. M/n wrapped his other hand on Karina's holding her closer, not wanting to miss out on the connection.

As the room quieted, and their breathing evened out, M/n leaned up on one elbow, looking at the two spent figures beside him. "Alright, you two," he said, his voice still thick with desire. "You need to shower, and then we can all sleep here for the night."

Giselle and Karina looked at him with lazy, sated expressions. "You're not kicking us out?" Giselle asked, a playful smirk tugging at her lips.

M/n chuckled, running a hand through his messy hair. "Of course not. But you two are definitely sleeping in my clothes. And as for teasing me like that again," he said, his gaze darkening slightly, "next time, I might not be so forgiving." He smacked both their asses lightly, the sound echoing through the quiet room. "Now, get up. Shower. We've got an early start tomorrow."

With a groan, Giselle and Karina disentangled themselves from M/n and the sticky sheets, the remnants of their passion sticking to their skin. They padded into the bathroom, their laughter and playful swats at each other's butts filling the room. M/n watched them go, his heart swelling with affection and desire. He couldn't believe this was his life now.

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (27/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Cuddles and snuggles with friends are totally normal. But sleeping on top of each other?

Warnings: fluff, tiny bit of angst

Word Count: 3.2k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: if seems very rushed, I'm deeply sorry. I just didn't know how to write this chapter. feedback is appreciated (as always, please and thank you!)

As a cold gust of wind blows around your heads, you snuggle a little closer to Charles. 

"Are you cold?" he whispers into your hair and strokes your spine with his fingertips, giving you goose bumps. Something he uses as a reason to tighten his arms around you. 

The fire in front of you is almost out, with only a few logs crackling in the bowl in front of you, providing the last bit of warmth in the dark December night. The thin blanket wrapped around you doesn't do much to keep out the cold wind. As you start to shiver, Charles pushes you off his lap.

"I'll add some more wood. Hopefully you'll be a bit warmer then," he smiles gently and gets up from the couch. 

"It's okay," you reply and start to fold the blanket in your lap. "It's already late. We can just go home." 

But your roommate shakes his head. "We can still stay here." 

"But -"

"I still want to stay here." His tone sounds almost desperate. "Please."

When you look into his eyes, there's a warm sparkle in them. And when he smiles, the sweet dimples bore into his cheeks, and you can do nothing but return his smile. "Let's go then. It's freezing."

You watch him take some logs from the corner by the patio door and place them in the almost burnt-out fire bowl. While you stretch out on the sofa cushions and snuggle back into the blanket, he lights a new fire. The light from the flames illuminates his face and gives it a golden glow. 

You rest your head in your hand. "I didn't know you were so good at starting a fire." 

Charles, kneeling on the other side of the fire bowl, can't help but grin. His gaze flickers from the flames in front of him to you. "There are a few things I'm good at that you don't know about." He licks his lips once before straightening up and taking the few steps to the couch. His eyes move from your face to your covered body. "Is there room for me too?"

You raise your eyebrows before pulling your knees up a little so he can sit at the other end of the couch. "Here you go."

Charles rolls his eyes. "Nuh-uh." Before you know it, he slides his arms under your body and lifts you off the couch - without much effort. "We'll share the space. It's fair." He sets you on your feet and pushes the blanket into your hand, then stretches out on the sofa so quickly that you can't protest. He clasps his hands behind his head and grins at you. 

You, on the other hand, cross your arms in front of your chest. "I think we have different definitions of 'sharing'." As he slips an inch, you have to suppress a smile. "And apparently also of 'fair'."

"I think it's very fair," he defends himself, dropping one arm to his side so that it's between his body and the backrest. "I'm lying on the couch and you're lying on top of me." He shrugs, as if it's no big deal that he wants you to lie with your body on top of his. "Come on. I thought you were cold. And standing around isn't going to help you warm up."

You step from one foot to the other. "You sure?"

Charles rests his head on the armrest of the couch before spreading his arms out. "Come on. We sleep in a bed at home. There's not much difference here."

Not much difference. 

You feel your heart pounding. "There's a big difference between lying on top of each other and lying next to each other." 

Charles sighs loudly before sitting up and reaching for your hand. You can't resist as he pulls you towards him with all his strength, almost causing you to trip over your own feet. The blanket falls to the floor and thank God you can support yourself with your free hand, otherwise you would have landed on his face. 

"Charles!" 

Your friend wraps his arm around you so that you don't slip off him or land on the edge of the sofa. His cold fingers slide under your sweater and find their firm place at your side, while his free hand lifts the blanket from the floor and spreads it over the both of you. You have no choice but to lay your head on his chest and snuggle up to him. 

"It's not so bad, is it?" he murmurs into your hairline and kisses the top of your head, making your heart beat faster. You just hope he can't feel it. 

"For being so muscular, you're pretty comfortable," you confess, playing with his fingers as they continue to hold your hand. "Not as comfortable as the couch, but I'm not complaining."

You feel Charles' body shake beneath you. He laughs. "I can lie on top of you if you want." His fingertips slide further from your side and almost slide under your body. He presses you tightly against him. "Then I'd crush you. But maybe that wouldn't be so bad. The closer, the warmer."

You feel the blood rush to your cheeks and press your face into his chest. 

You're a little surprised that Charles turned the last remnant of his two-year relationship into ashes a few hours ago and is now making these kinds of comments. He even cried. But maybe that's what he needs. A friendship that goes deeper than shallow conversations and coffee dates. 

Maybe he needs the closeness, emotionally and physically. Something he can hold on to when the roof falls on his head. Someone who pushes him to be better, but also brings him back down to earth when he takes off. 

You want to be that person for him. Even if it costs you your heart.

You watch as the individual logs begin to burn. Charles' chest rises and falls beneath you and you feel his warm breath on your forehead as the fire crackles in front of you. Charles' hands change positions; the one that was holding your own a moment ago slides under your sweater to gently stroke your spine, while the other finds its way to your head. With warm fingertips, he brushes some of the hair from your face before he starts scratching your head. 

"Do you want me to fall asleep?" you murmur against his shirt-clad chest. 

"Would that be so bad?" You feel his lips move against the top of your head. Before you know it, you feel them on your forehead as he breathes a soft kiss on your cool skin. 

"Uh-huh." 

"Why? I thought I was comfortable?" His voice is barely louder than a whisper. 

You curl your fingers into his sweater. "Pretty much. You're pretty comfortable," you repeat to yourself. "My bed at home is more comfortable, though."

"Then I'm sorry." 

You twist your neck a little to look at him. You raise an eyebrow in confusion. "Sorry for what?"

He strokes your cheek once with his thumb. "That you have to make do with me." His warm breath caresses your face and although you are literally lying on top of him, you only now realize how close you are. 

You smile tiredly. "Don't worry," you push yourself up a little and press your forehead against his cheek; his beard scratches gently against your skin. "My bed may be comfortable, but you're still my favorite."

Charles' lips kiss the tip of your nose before he kisses your forehead once more. "You're my favorite too, mon amour." His long arms wrap around your body under the covers, holding you close as the rise and fall of his chest lulls you to sleep. 

You dream of peonies, pasta, red cars and lightning and warm lips on yours. Of strong arms that wrap around you, a body that lies on top of yours. You dream of Charles, his smile and the warmth he radiates. And only when his body moves beneath you do you slowly wake up from your dreams. 

"Sleep well?" Charles' voice is raspy and deep in your ear as you squirm a little in his arms. 

You exhale deeply, but keep your eyes closed. "Uh-huh." 

Charles laughs softly and your head bobs on his chest. "So I was more comfortable than I expected." 

Slowly, you open your eyes. The fire bowl has burnt out, there are only ashes in it and the only things that light up the night are the moon and the stars in the sky above you and a small lamp that shines a soft cone of light on you from the living room. "How long have I been asleep?" You rub your eyes sleepily. 

"A few hours. But don't worry, as far as I know you weren't drooling," he jokes, but that doesn't stop you from jumping off the couch as if bitten by a tarantula. 

"I'm sorry," you apologize, running your fingers through your hair, "I didn't mean to use you as a personal pillow." 

"It's okay," he replies with a smile and scratches his beard. "I was going for it with the cuddling and the tickling, after all." He shrugs his shoulders. "I'm quite irresistible."

An image of him on top of you flickers in your mind's eye. How true. 

"I'm sorry though." You grab Charles's legs and lift them up so you can sit on the couch next to him. His calves rest on your lap. "Your back must be incredibly sore."

He waves his hand. "This couch is still better than the one in our old apartment. It really was a horror." He leans back a little, stretches his back over the armrest and you can both hear the crack of individual vertebrae in his back. When you look at him with a raised eyebrow, he grins. "Oops."

"Come on." You push his legs off you and stand up. "Let's go home. There's a super comfy bed waiting for us. And there's enough room so we don't have to sleep on top of each other." You hold out your hand to him to pull him off the couch. 

He puts his hand in yours, but instead of you pulling him up, he pulls you back towards him so that you end up on his lap. "Then let's stay here. On this couch. It's not as comfortable as our bed, but at least I'll have you lying on top of me." His grin is so wide that it almost reaches his ears.

You roll your eyes in mock annoyance. You try to suppress the fact that your hands start to sweat and a warm shiver runs down your spine. "You're impossible."

"I thought I was irresistible?" he asks, leaning forward. 

You hold your breath. "You said that, not me. And you're talking a lot of nonsense."

Charles lifts his hand and places it against your cheek, letting it wander until his fingers find your neck and his thumb lifts your chin. His mouth opens and his tongue glides over his full lips. "True. But when I say you're the most important person in my life, that's not nonsense." 

You place your hand on his. "Then what is it?"

"The truth." He smiles lovingly. "You are - the light in my darkness, the fire in my veins, the music in my heart. I never expected that you could grow so fond of someone in such a short time. And then you came along." He hesitantly removes his hand from your cheek and the warmth it had radiated disappears. "You're my best friend."

Never in your life have you wanted to scream as loudly as you do at this moment. And you want to scream at the man in front of you, tell him that you want to be more to him than his best friend, that you want to kiss him, that you want to be his. And that you can hardly stand it when he's not with you.

And you want to scream at yourself, smack yourself, because you're trying to convince yourself that a friendship is enough, even though your heart is telling you that it's the last thing you want from him. You want to grab yourself by the shoulders and shake you until you come to your senses. 

You are Charles' friend. His best friend. And even if actions speak louder than words, his words were unmistakable. 

You smile at him. "I wouldn't want to be anything else either."

While Charles pushes the sofa back into place, you clear away the rest. You fold up the blanket and put it on the back of the sofa in the living room and the empty Coke cans end up in the garbage can in the kitchen. There's no sign of Joris, but his bedroom door is closed and there's not a sound to be heard. The apartment is dead quiet until Charles joins you in the kitchen. 

"Last time we were here, we had a fight afterwards, remember?" he asks, leaning against the doorframe. 

You turn to him and take a look at the kitchen island, where nothing is lying around except for a large wooden board. You chew the inside of your cheek. "I hate to remember that."

Your flatmate tilts his head. "The phone call or the argument?"

"The fight."

Charles pushes me away from the doorframe and stands opposite you at the kitchen island. "I'd like to apologize again. I went one step too far. And we haven't even known each other for twenty-four hours."

"Charles..."

"No, listen to me." He circles the counter until he stands in front of you and takes your hands in his. They're soft and warm. "I crossed a line that day and you were right to be angry with me. I just want to say again that I definitely don't want to do that again. The fighting I mean." He smiles. "I'd defend you to Raphael any time of day or night."

You purse your lips. "Then it's a good thing we can leave him behind. Just like Annika."

He lifts your hands and presses a fleeting kiss to your knuckles. "And I couldn't have done it without you."

The drive home isn't far, thank God, and as Charles parks his brother's car in the underground garage, you're overcome with tiredness again. You would have preferred to stay in the car, recline your seat and close your eyes. But Charles's hand on your thigh pulls you back into the world of the living. 

"We're here, sleepyhead. Come on, there's a warm bed waiting for you upstairs that can hardly wait for you to snuggle up in."

"I can hardly wait either," you smile as you unbuckle your seatbelt and follow your roommate to the elevator. The light inside is bright and far too harsh for your tired eyes, so you close them and lean your head against the elevator wall. "I'm so tired."

"But you slept." 

You open your eyes and look at your friend. "What's up with you? Aren't you tired too?"

He shrugs his shoulders. "Do I look that exhausted?" He runs a hand through his hair. "I slept a bit too, don't worry. You lying on top of me wasn't just comfortable for you."

You try not to think too much about his comment as you get ready for bed and then lie down in your long-awaited bed. You plug your phone into the charging cable and see an Instagram notification pop up. 

You have to smile. 

liked by pierregasly and others tagged: yourusername francisca.cgomes: favorite cardigan, favorite person

"What's up?" asks Charles, who closes the door behind him. 

You try not to stare at his naked torso, which, thank heavens, you manage to do. "Here, Kika's following me on Instagram now." You hold your phone out to him briefly so he can see her post. "I'll just follow her back."

"Can I follow you now too?" he asks as he lies down in bed next to you, phone in hand. 

You look at him in confusion. "You're already following me."

Charles laughs as if you've told a joke. "That's right. But this is my private account. I'd like to follow you on my official account, if that's okay with you."

"It's okay with me," you reply, "but are you sure? After all, Kika has tagged me in her pictures. And if they go to my profile, they'll see that you're following me too, won't they?"

You don't really want to rub his caring in, but it was his idea to take Kika and Pierre furniture shopping. And to drive through Monaco in your old Renault. The fact that he wants to follow you - quite publicly and for everyone to see - on Instagram goes against everything he's done for your safety. 

"They will. But we're friends, after all, and I won't be able to keep you out of the spotlight forever."

"All right." A moment later, another notification pops up. You quickly accept his request and follow him back before looking at the last picture he posted. You grin at him. "Cool picture, who took that?"

Playfully clueless, he shrugs his shoulders before snuggling into the pillow. "My best friend." 

As you put your phone away, he switches off the bedside lamp and darkness and silence fill the room. You feel his warmth under the covers and you want to scoot the few inches over to him and press yourself against him until you're engulfed by his warmth. 

"Would it be weird if we cuddled?" His voice sounds hesitant, as if he was struggling to ask you that. When you don't answer, Charles quickly backpedals. "I'm sorry. I know we're just friends, but - I don't know - when you're there, I feel like I'm at home. And it calms me down when you're with me. I'm sorry, that all sounds totally selfish."

You reach under the blanket for his hand. He squeezes it twice. "Friends can cuddle too, I think. I mean, without ulterior motives."

"Good," he murmurs and his arm wraps around your middle to pull you closer. He drapes your leg over his hip and your hand rests on his chest. "Is that okay with you?" His fingertips dance on your bare skin under your sleep shirt. 

You press your face into his neck and breathe in deeply. As you exhale and your hot breath brushes over the soft skin of his neck, he pushes your leg down a little further, tangling your limbs together. "If that's what it is for you." 

"It is." Charles presses one last kiss to your forehead before resting his cheek against the top of your head again. "And now we need to sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a busy day. I don't think my mother can wait to get to know you better." 

"Do you think she'll like me?" you ask softly into the darkness. 

Charles' skin is warm and soft against yours as he presses you against him and your shirt slides up a little. "I think that anyone who gets to know you better will fall head over heels in love with you. Whether they want to or not."

-

Charles Instagram post

liked by francisca.cgomes, pierregasly and others charles_leclerc: aux nouveaux départs posted three days ago

[seulgisqt]

𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐍 — lena oberdorf

lena oberdorf x dallas cowboys cheerleader!reader

(a/n: can you tell this is a british person who wrote this?? i’ve always had an odd obsession with those ladies so but anyways lena oberdorf, my shayla >_< I hope you enjoyed this one, i’m thinking of doing a two part for this, lemme know if you would like that and happy reading x)

word count: 1986

genre: fluff

summary: two different worlds, colliding in the most unexpected of places—yet somehow, it felt like they were exactly where they were meant to be.

As you adjusted your glittering blue uniform, the scorching Texas sun cast its unwavering gaze upon AT&T Stadium, making the atmosphere both electrifying and intense. The fabric of your outfit shimmered brilliantly, reflecting the light with every slight movement, and the heat enveloped you like a warm embrace. You stood tall and proud as the centrepiece of the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders, a position you had dreamt about since your earliest memories of watching those iconic routines on television, captivated by the energy and precision.

You were focused on tonight’s performance, where an international friendly match between the USWNT and Germany’s national team took place. It wasn’t every day a soccer match took over their football stadium, and you were eager to see how the crowd would react to the shift in energy.

Among the German players warming up was Lena, the star midfielder known for precision and aggression on the field. Lena was as disciplined as she was fearless—a footballer who’d grown up training in the rainy fields of Gevelsburg. She was fiercely proud of her roots, yet found herself intrigued by this massive, almost theatrical American sports culture.

The game unfolded with an intensity that crackled in the air, but amidst the thrumming excitement, Lena’s gaze was irresistibly drawn to the vibrant splashes of colour and dynamic movement spiralling down the staircases among the throngs of spectators. The cheerleaders, clad in striking uniforms that shimmered in the arena lights, led a fervent cacophony of cheers and chants that resonated through the crowd, their infectious energy sweeping over everyone present. It was unlike anything she had ever experienced back home, a captivating display of spirit and camaraderie that left her spellbound.

The halftime break arrived with a pulse of excitement rippling through the massive crowd. The game was tense, and the U.S. and German teams were locked in a fierce battle, but for the next few minutes, all eyes would be on you and the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders.

You took a deep breath, standing tall at the edge of the field, feeling the electric energy in the air. The opening chords of AC/DC’s Thunderstruck blasted through the speakers, and the crowd erupted. This was the routine—fast, furious, and legendary. The kind of performance that could make even the toughest sceptics believe in the art of cheerleading.

From the sideline, Lena sat on the bench in the technical area, water bottle forgotten in her hand. She has seen plenty of halftime shows in her career, but nothing like this. The music thumped in her chest as you sprang to life, every movement precise and explosive. Your hair whipped around as you launched into high kicks, your blue rhinestone-studded stars sparkled under the stadium lights.

The choreography was relentless. Sharp motions that synced perfected with the pounding drumbeat, pom-poms slicing through the air with military precision. You moved with such confidence, such undeniable magnetism, that Lena found herself frozen, mesmerised.

“They’re incredible, aren’t they?” Sara murmured beside her, but Lena barely heard. Her eyes were fixed on you, whose smile radiated pure joy, body moving with an effortless grace that only came from years of dedication. As you dropped into the squad’s signature kickline, the entire stadium roared in approval. You stole a glance towards the sideline—just for a second, and caught Lena watching you intently, eyes wide with admiration. A rush of heat flooded your chest, and you pushed yourself even harder, feeding off the connection you felt from across the field.

Lena’s heart pounded, though she wasn’t sure if it was from the music or the way your energy seemed to wrap around her like a lasso. She had always thought football was the ultimate rush, but this? This was something else entirely. She watched you flip, spin, and land with flawless precision, your spirit seemingly untouchable.

As the routine built to its climactic finish with the cheerleaders launching into a gravity-defying jump split, the stadium shook with applause. Lena found herself cheering along with the crowd, a rare uninhibited smile breaking across her face. As the final notes of the music faded and you struck your last pose, breathing heavily but wearing a wide, triumphant grin, you turned your gaze toward the sideline once more. The vibrant energy around you was palpable, and your eyes locked with Lena's across the field, a connection forged amid the exhilarating chaos of the performance.

The stadium lights still burned bright long after the game had ended in a tense draw, the buzz of excitement still lingering in the air. You and your teammates lingered along the sidelines, feeling the residual adrenaline still coursing through your veins. But now, with the game over, you found yourself feeling oddly restless as you interacted with the young girls in the stands, helping them take photos with their fellow football idols.

Your eyes wandered across the field, where the German players were cooling down, stretching, and exchanging jerseys with their American counterparts. Among them was her, the striking brunette midfielder who had been impossible to ignore during the match. You had noticed Lena the moment she stepped onto the field, the fierce focus and effortless control of the ball captivating in a way that you hadn’t expected. And when she caught Lena watching the halftime performance, you felt something shift.

Lena, too, had felt it.

She was still replaying the halftime show in her head, the pounding rhythm of Thunderstruck echoing in her ears. German football culture was all about discipline and rigour, but what she witnessed was pure fire. And it fascinated her.

As Lena pulled off her sweat-drenched jersey and wiped her face with it, she spotted you standing by the tunnel, chatting with your teammates but glancing her way now and then. Summoning her courage, Lena handed her jersey off and made her way across the field.

Your stomach flipped when you realised Lena was heading your way, tall and athletic, her dark hair tousled from the game. You played it cool, offering a bright smile as Lena approached. “Nice performance,” Lena said in her slightly accented English, her lips curling into an easy, lopsided grin. “I didn't know football had…entertainment like that.”

You twirled a pom-pom absentmindedly as you laughed. “Well, soccer, not usually. But we like to put on a show here in Texas. Gotta give the fans something to cheer for, right?”

“But you were amazing out there. I’ve never seen someone control the game like you do.” You nudged her, pom-pom crinkling in hand.

Lena’s cheeks flushed slightly, and she looked down, kicking at the turf. “Thanks,” she said softly, “but I think you might have beat me in the whole crowd control department.”

“Guess we both have our talents.” You winked.

There was a moment of silence, not awkward but filled with the weight of something new and intriguing. You shifted in your boots, then glanced towards the tunnel, hearing your directors call your name as well as Lena’s teammates calling out for her.

As you glanced back at Lena, a sense of urgency reflected in her captivating gaze. “Well, Lena, it was a pleasure meeting you,” you said, your voice tinged with a mix of warmth and urgency. “I hope you had a wonderful time in Dallas. Safe travels!” There was a sparkle in your eyes as you took one last look at her, committing her features to memory before you turned and jogged off toward your waiting coworkers, the lively chatter of the group drawing you back into the moment.

Before Lena could find the words to respond, you had already turned away, your footsteps quickening as you joined your teammates. The air between you felt heavy with unspoken feelings, and she let out a soft sigh, trying to suppress the flicker of disappointment that threatened to surface. Yet, deep down, she vowed to herself that this wouldn’t be the last time your paths crossed.

You left your locker room cladded in your Cowboys sweats, boots clicking across the vinyl floor, on the hunt for the bathroom, using it as an excuse to get away from your prying teammates who questioned what happened between you and “that German girl.”

Turning a corner, you begin to hear the chatter of the German team, playful shrieks being thrown as you saw them file out of their locker room, you stood against the wall as the players walked past you, exchanging thank yous and goodbyes. Your eyes searched for Lena as she left the room, laughing with one of her teammates.

Her eyes lit up as she met yours, standing adjacent to you on the wall to allow her team to walk in front of the two of you. A couple of the ladies patted her shoulder with knowing glances as they walked past.

She appeared vibrant and youthful, her cheeks flushed with a rosy hue that contrasted beautifully with her smooth complexion. Her hair was styled in a bun, showcasing the delicate contours of her face. “I knew you’d find me,” you teased with a smile, the words playful and light. As you both strolled side by side, each slow step felt deliberate, as if you were trying to savour every moment and stretch out the time spent together.

“Couldn’t help myself,” Lena said with a nonchalant shrug, her eyes darting momentarily away as a palpable silence settled between them. She hesitated, her fingers nervously twisting the strap of her bag, a subtle sign of her apprehension. A flicker of uncertainty crossed her face, as if weighing her next words carefully in the stillness.

“So, listen,” she said with an easy smile, “we’re having a little after-party tonight. Some of the team rented out a place downtown. You should come.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you halted your steps. For a moment, idea of letting loose, spending more time with Lena, and stepping outside the tight bubble of her DCC world was intoxicating. But then reality set in like a bucket of cold water.

The Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders had strict rules about fraternisation with players, whether football or otherwise. No dating, no hanging out, no exceptions. Even though Lena wasn’t an NFL player, you knew it was a grey area that could get you in serious trouble. You had worked too hard to get here, sacrificed too much to risk it all for a night of fun—no matter how tempting Lena’s invitation was.

“I’d love to, really.” You bit your lip, as Lena’s eyes lit up. “But we have some…rules.” you said carefully, fiddling with the sleeves of your sweatshirt. “Cheerleaders and players aren’t really supposed to hang out.”

Lena raised an eyebrow, surprised. “Even when it’s not your team?”

“Even then,” you sighed. “It’s a whole image thing. They want us to be, you know, untouchable or something.” You bounced your leg anxiously.

The tall brunette frowned, leaning in slightly. “That’s ridiculous,” she said, a hint of defiance in her voice. “We’re just people. It’s not like I’m asking you to break the law.”

You let out a small chuckle. “Try telling that to my directors. They’d have me benched for the rest of the season.”

Lena studied your face for a moment, then shrugged with a playful grin. “Okay. So, what if I promise to keep my distance? I mean, we could pretend I’m just a fan. I’ll even act starstruck if it helps.”

“You? Starstruck?” You couldn’t help but laugh “I’d love to see that.”

“Then come. Just for an hour.” Lena tilted her head, eyes twinkling. “I promise no one will even know we’re there together.”

You hesitated, torn between your cautious instincts and the undeniable pull towards Lena. Breaking the rules, even bending them, could cost you everything you had worked for. But then you looked at Lena, at the way she stood there, so open, so genuine—and something inside you whispered, take the chance.

[grapejuicestyless]

Paper Crowns

Harry Styles x fem!reader

Summery: After finally having some down time after a hectic few weeks, you and Harry finally get around to decorating for the holidays.

“What do you think?”

My gaze was drawn to the thick, red and green stockings hung over the mantle, embroidered with the first initials of our respective names. Along the brick hung thick ropes of tinsel spread through the deep green garland with pops of red cranberries scattered throughout.

But the real show stopper hadn’t been the festive rugs, or the seasonal mugs, or the extravagant lights Harry and I had woken up bright and early to hang all across the roof and the gutters, but the tall tree that sat squished in the corner of the living room, a small blanket wrapped around the base of the tree and a thick pine-y smell wafting through the house.

It was decorated with a mixture of ornaments and garlands that shouldn’t have mixed, but due to the extreme randomness of the assortment, it felt all too perfect. Each ornament was a souvenir of a shared experience or memory that tied to places that expanded down the Western and Eastern coasts of the United States all the way to the beach-y shores of Australia. Some were collected from our families, old art projects from our early school days, or framed family photos that we used to find embarrassing as children.

There was crumpled up tinsel in all different colors and red and silver and blue and yellow ribbons swirling around the branches. But right on top, sat a beautiful, golden star that shined so brightly, it put all the other sparkling things to shame. And it felt so much like home, I felt like the grinch. My heart had grown three sizes bigger.

“It’s perfect, Har.” I complemented, vaguely aware of the comforting of his hand resting against my hip, pulling me closer to him as we shared a small space in the center of the room.

He smelled of shaving cream and vanilla, and he was as warm as the crackling fire by our feet. We’d spent so much time together, running around in private so that one day, we could both return to the spotlight. Harry now adorned a scruffy mustache, one I was familiar with, and one he had previously grown out during the lockdown a few years back. In this light, one could forget that he was Harry Styles, because under our shared roof, he was simply Harry. Nothing more, nothing less.

“M’glad we found time to do this together this year.” I spoke softly, my eyes flickering from the shiny decorations to the deep greens of his eyes. Only to find that the entire time, he hadn’t been admiring our work the same way I had, but rather he hadn’t been stuck looking only at me.

“Me too.”

In previous years, though Harry and I were both granted a few days off from our hectic work schedules to enjoy the holidays with family, the weeks leading up to it never seemed to synchronize. But, a bare home is a sad one, so when eventually, snow began to turn into slush and our house looked eerily dark compared to the other houses around the block, one of us would end up setting up the house in the quiet, letting the moon be our company while the other was far away attending to their own problems.

This year was different. Harry wasn’t touring, and the album had been finalized a long time ago. As for me, I had finished press for all my movies, and the premieres had come and gone. I could spend my days laying at home now, tucked beneath a blanket with the satisfaction that it had all washed over, and I had the pleasure to bask in the glory, not in Time Square or the heart of Los Angeles, but beneath the covers with my head pressed against my lovers chest, sighing out in total bliss.

“Theres only one more thing for us to do.” Harry smiled, leading me across the cold wooden floors to the dining room, which had been pre-set with all the plates and cutlery for our eventual guests that would roll in on Christmas morning.

Next to each plate lay a large paper tube shaped in something close to the appearance of a bow. Christmas Crackers, is what Harry called them. Cardboard-like things that were meant to be pulled apart like a wishbone, a harmless game where the winner of the larger half would win a small prize.

I smiled, leaning my hip against the table and watched as he leaned across the table cloth to grab one of the spare crackers that sat in the center of the table next to the stacks of candles.

“What do I win if I get it?” I asked softly, grabbing the end of the game firmly between my fingers.

“Is the prize not enough?” Harry laughed, his eyes crinkling happily as he bared all his teeth in his smile.

“How about a kiss. Just to satisfy my cold heart.” I teased, and he didn’t argue. We both knew that despite the result, I’d get what I wanted either way. It was Christmas time after all.

“What if I win?” He raised a brow. “What do I get?”

I hummed, watching his grip tighten around the other end, his fingers flexing under the strength of it.

“Anything you want, my love.” I promised him softly, blush rising on both of our warm cheeks at the open promise.

Harry simply nodded with a teasing smirk, counting down softly under his breath, but skipping the two and jumping to three like he often did before his songs.

There was a short battle before a loud pop sounded, and as we looked down at our hands, I was surprised to find the larger half attached to where I held on.

Inside there was a bottle opener shaped like a reindeer. It was dull and already rusting, but it wasn’t really the prize I cared about, not when Harry was already wrapping his arms around me with a loving grin, drunken in his gaze as his eyes locked onto mine.

There was a paper crown too, purple and delicate. His fingers fiddled with the material before slotting it on my head, and pressing his palms against my cheeks.

When he kissed me, I felt warmth expanding in my chest down to my cold feet, and I swore his lips were meant for mine because they fit so damn perfectly against mine every single time.

When he pulled back, it was with a shaky laugh, and a touch of his mouth to the tip of my nose. The moment felt golden, like something I’d stolen from the world, and I was happy to have gotten away with it.

“Merry Christmas, Harry.” I couldn’t help but giggle at the sappiness of it all. The giddy feelings had me reeling, making me forget for a moment that I wasn’t a young girl in love anymore, but the woman that had proudly grown beside him.

“Merry Christmas, love.”

[ms-snape]

Ok I have the sweetest idea! Can you please write severus with a female reader who is just fascinated with his long hair and asks to style it for him, nothing crazy but you know bows like lucius or braids

Title: For me?

Warning: None, just pure fluff

Words Count: 1000+

Masterlist

---

In the dimly lit corridors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where shadows danced in the flickering candlelight, Y/N flitted through the halls like a vibrant breath of fresh air. As the Herbology professor, she was well-versed in nurturing both plants and the students who so often found themselves enchanted by her passion. However, it was not just her lessons that captured the attention of those around her; it was the way she lit up at the mere mention of Severus Snape, the brooding Potions Master with a heart as deep as the dungeons he called home.

Severus, with his raven-black hair that cascaded like a dark waterfall, was a source of quiet intrigue. Though he preferred solitude, he found solace in Y/N’s company. Her laughter echoed like music, warming the cold stone walls of the castle. But there was one aspect of Severus that Y/N simply could not resist—his hair. To her, it was not merely an accessory but a canvas, a tapestry waiting for her gentle hands to weave magic into it.

“Severus, please,” Y/N implored one evening, her eyes sparkling with mischief as they lounged in the cozy confines of their shared place. A fire crackled softly, casting a warm glow that illuminated her face, highlighting the way her cheeks flushed with excitement. “Just let me style it once! I promise you’ll love it.”

Severus raised an eyebrow, his usual expression of stoic annoyance morphing into mild amusement. “I do not believe that would be appropriate, Y/N,” he replied, his voice low and measured, though there was an undeniable softness to his tone. “My hair is not a toy for your amusement.”

With a dramatic pout that could rival even the most skilled of performers, Y/N crossed her arms, her lower lip jutting out in a way that made her look irresistibly adorable. “But it would be so much fun! And you have such beautiful hair! It deserves to be styled, not left to hang limply like a neglected broom.”

Severus fought to suppress a smile, the corners of his mouth betraying him. She had a way of disarming him, of stripping away his defenses with her infectious enthusiasm. “It is merely hair,” he muttered, attempting to maintain his facade of indifference.

“But it’s your hair,” she insisted, her voice rising slightly in excitement. “It has character! Just think of the potential!”

He sighed, knowing full well that her stubbornness would not easily be swayed. “Y/N,” he began, a hint of exasperation creeping into his tone, “I hardly see how this is—”

“Just once!” she interrupted, leaning closer, her eyes wide and pleading. “For me?”

For a moment, the world outside their bubble faded away. Severus felt the weight of her gaze on him, filled with an earnestness that tugged at something deep within his chest. He took a breath, allowing himself to be swept up in the moment. “Fine,” he relented, the word escaping his lips almost against his will. “But only for a moment.”

Y/N’s face lit up with unrestrained joy, and in that instant, all of Severus’s reservations melted away like snow beneath the sun. He could not deny her anything when she looked at him like that.

“Yay!” she squealed, her voice a melody of delight. She quickly ushered him to a nearby chair, her hands moving with purpose as she began to untangle the strands of his hair. As her fingers slipped through the silky locks, Severus felt a strange mixture of vulnerability and warmth. He was accustomed to being the one in control, yet here he was, yielding to her playful whims.

“Your hair is so soft,” she remarked, a hint of awe in her voice. “Have you been using that conditioning potion I recommended?”

“Perhaps,” he replied, feigning nonchalance even as he felt his heart rate quicken at her touch. The way she concentrated, her brows slightly furrowed, made her even more endearing. He watched as she sectioned his hair, her movements precise and graceful.

“Now, let’s see,” she murmured to herself, her focus unwavering. “A braid? A twist? No… I know!” With a burst of inspiration, she began to weave his hair into intricate patterns, her fingers dancing like a skilled artist. Severus felt a surge of warmth at her dedication, each tug and pull both comforting and invigorating.

As she worked, they exchanged soft, teasing banter, laughter spilling from their lips like the most precious potion. Y/N’s enthusiasm was contagious, and soon even Severus found himself enjoying the process. She recounted tales of her students’ antics in the greenhouse, her expressive gestures painting vivid images that made him chuckle despite himself.

“I’ve decided this is the look you should adopt,” Y/N announced triumphantly, securing the final braid with a delicate ribbon. She stepped back to admire her handiwork, her eyes sparkling with delight.

Severus caught his reflection in the nearest mirror, and for the first time, he saw something different—something that spoke of connection, of warmth, and of a world beyond the cold, dark potions and brewing shadows that had long defined him. “It appears I have been transformed into a woodland sprite,” he remarked dryly, but the corners of his mouth betrayed the fondness he felt.

Y/N clapped her hands, bouncing on her heels. “You look incredible! I can’t believe you ever doubted this.” She stepped forward, her fingers brushing against his cheek as she leaned in, eyes softening. “I love seeing this side of you.”

In that moment, the air crackled with an unspoken truth. Severus felt an overwhelming swell of affection for her—how she brought light into his otherwise somber existence. Her laughter filled the silence he had grown so accustomed to, and he couldn’t help but admire the way her passion made even the darkest corners of the castle feel alive.

“Perhaps,” he began, the words feeling foreign yet exhilarating on his tongue, “I could tolerate such transformations more often, provided it remains… just between us.”

Y/N beamed, her joy radiant and uncontained. “Deal! But next time, I’m trying out a crown braid!”

As she leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder, Severus felt the weight of his walls crumbling further. In her presence, he was not merely the Potions Master; he was something more—something hopeful, something cherished. Together, they sat in the soft glow of the firelight, a tangle of hair and heart, weaving a bond that transcended the very magic of the world around them.

[sodavizz]

— Christmas Won't Be The Same Without You.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Pairing: Daisuke x GN! Reader

Warnings: None, just fluff again :3

Wc: 1.3k+

Author's Note: Tadaa!! It's almost Christmas time baby! I'm super duper excited as it is already half of November!! Are you all ready to celebrate it, cause I sure am!

The snow was falling softly outside, coating the world in a blanket of white. The small town where Daisuke had grown up was quiet, the streets lined with festive lights and decorations. Inside his parents' house, however, there was nothing quiet about it. The living room was alive with the hum of Christmas music playing softly in the background, the scent of pine and cinnamon filling the air, and the soft crackle of a fire burning in the hearth. It was the perfect Christmas setting, and you were sharing it with Daisuke.

“Can you believe it?” Daisuke said, his voice full of excitement as he stood beside you in the entryway. His eyes sparkled with that familiar joy you adored. “Christmas at my parents’ house. I'm sure they're just as excited you are to meeting each other!”

You smiled at him, feeling a warmth spread through you as he took your hand, pulling you into the house. “I’m really happy to be here with you, Daisuke. This place feels so… cozy.”

His grin widened. “It’s definitely cozy. And my mom’s cooking is legendary, so get ready for some serious holiday feasting. You might not even have room for dessert by the end of the night.”

You laughed, feeling your stomach growl at the thought of what awaited. You’d heard a lot about Daisuke’s mom’s cooking, but this would be your first time tasting it. You could already smell the roast turkey and baked goods wafting from the kitchen.

The house was warm, full of life, and adorned with decorations that felt like they had been carefully placed with love. Christmas stockings hung from the mantle above the fireplace, each one bearing a name stitched in gold thread, and a grand tree stood in the corner, its branches weighed down with ornaments, tinsel, and fairy lights. The atmosphere was peaceful but bustling, with Daisuke’s parents—his mother in a festive red apron and his father pulling drinks from the fridge—filling the space with energy and laughter.

Daisuke led you to the living room where his family was already gathered. His parents, always warm and welcoming, greeted you with open arms.

“Ah, there you are, so you're the one my son keeps going on and on about!” His mother beamed as he mumbled something to her, seeming embarrassed she would expose him about that. She then stepped forward to give you a hug. “We’ve been waiting for you both. Everything’s ready for dinner, but we can always add more if you’re hungry before the big meal!”

“You must be starving after the drive!” his father added with a grin, holding out a glass of eggnog. “Don’t be shy, help yourself.”

You chuckled and accepted the drink, glancing over at Daisuke, who was practically glowing in his own way, standing close by with a proud smile.

“You must be excited to have us here,” you teased.

He nodded eagerly. “Are you kidding? I’ve been counting down the days to Christmas here with you and my family. I think I’ve spent almost every Christmas here since I was a kid, and this time it’s even better because you’re with me.”

The sincerity in his voice made your heart skip a beat. There was something about being here, in the warmth of his family’s home, surrounded by love, that made everything feel like it was falling into place.

“I’m really happy to be here, too,” you said softly, meeting his gaze. “It feels so... right.”

Daisuke grinned and reached for your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze before turning to his parents. “I think it’s time for us to get the party started! We still need to do the Secret Santa exchange, and I’m pretty sure everyone’s excited for that.”

His mom laughed. “Oh yes, we can’t forget about that! We all got something special this year, so I hope everyone’s ready for a little holiday fun.”

Dinner was a true feast. The table was piled high with everything you could imagine—roast turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, stuffing, roasted vegetables, and an assortment of freshly baked rolls. In the center, a large cranberry sauce dish sat alongside platters of sweet potatoes and baked brussels sprouts. Daisuke’s mom had clearly outdone herself, and as you dug into your meal, you could tell that everyone was savoring each bite.

Between mouthfuls, you shared stories with Daisuke’s family, laughing and chatting about everything from your childhood traditions to more recent adventures. Daisuke’s dad was particularly fond of telling embarrassing stories about Daisuke when he was little, which had everyone in stitches. Daisuke, for his part, seemed unbothered by it all, even joining in with some of his own stories about his mischievous younger days.

But it wasn’t just the food or the laughter that made this night feel special—it was the way Daisuke kept glancing at you with that soft, affectionate look in his eyes, the way his hand would subtly brush against yours under the table, or how he’d pull you close during moments when no one was looking, as if to remind you that this was your time together.

--

After dinner, Daisuke insisted on taking you outside to see the backyard, which, as it turned out, had a stunning view of the town covered in snow. The Christmas lights from nearby houses reflected off the snow, creating a soft, magical glow that made the night feel like something out of a holiday movie.

“Come here,” Daisuke said, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and guiding you to the porch. “This is one of my favorite parts of Christmas—just looking out over the snow. My family used to come out here every Christmas Eve when I was younger and just… enjoy the peace.”

You stood with him, watching the snow fall gently, the cool air brushing against your skin. His presence beside you, his warmth, was enough to make everything feel even more magical.

“I never imagined I’d get to spend Christmas like this,” you murmured, leaning into him. “It’s been perfect.”

Daisuke smiled down at you, his fingers threading through yours as he pulled you a little closer. “I’ve been looking forward to this for so long, just to share it all with you. Christmas is better when you’re with the people you love, and that’s all I want for us.”

You leaned up to kiss him, the moment soft, gentle, and full of meaning. When you pulled away, Daisuke’s face was alight with happiness, his eyes sparkling.

“Merry Christmas, the most beautiful person I've ever seen,” he said softly.

You chuckled at his compliment as you stared deeply into his eyes in an, oh such affectionate way.

“Merry Christmas, Handsome,” you whispered back.

Later, as the evening drew on, everyone gathered around the tree for the Secret Santa exchange. You’d gotten Daisuke’s mom, and after some playful teasing, she opened the gift you’d picked out—a beautiful hand-knitted scarf, which she immediately wrapped around her neck with a delighted laugh. Then, Daisuke gave you your gift, a small box wrapped with care. When you opened it, you found a delicate silver bracelet with a charm that read together, a reminder of how far you’d come and how much you meant to each other.

You blinked back tears as you hugged him, your heart swelling with gratitude. “I love it, Daisuke. Thank you.”

“I’m glad you like it,” he said, his voice full of affection as he kissed your forehead. “This is just the beginning of our holiday together. I want to make this Christmas the best one yet.”

As the evening wound down, the two of you snuck off to a quiet corner of the living room, away from the laughter and chatter, to enjoy each other’s company in peace. With the soft glow of the Christmas tree lights surrounding you, Daisuke wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close.

“This is all I ever wanted,” he whispered, his voice full of love. “To be with you, here, now.”

And in that moment, surrounded by the warmth of his family, the love between you, and the gentle snowfall outside, you knew he was right. It didn’t matter where you were, as long as you were together.

“Merry Christmas, Daisuke,” you whispered, kissing him again.

“Merry Christmas,” he replied, smiling softly, his heart as full as yours.

[spiicii]

jey uso / snowed in

x fem!reader  word count → 2.1k summary → a blizzard keeps the two of you snowed in, but jey knows how to keep you warm.  links → masterlist tags → tooth-rotting fluff and romance, unprotected piv sex, creampie, praise kink, daddy kink, some tears (but they’re happy), jey is a sweetheart

The wind raged outside the cabin, large drifts of snow beginning to pile beneath the window as the winter storm worsened. The night was dark, heavy clouds laden with snow blocking out the moon and stars. The oil light from the porch was the only light in these mountains for miles. 

You leaned your head against Jey’s shoulder, the two of you watching as the storm raged on outside the living room window. The power had gone out long ago, but Jey had already built a fire, the crackle of dry wood against orange flame the only sound besides the distant howl of the wind. 

“How long you think this storm gonna last?” Jey murmured, wrapping his arm around you to pull you closer. You snuggled up beside him, taking his hand in yours. 

“I don’t know. Hopefully it’ll be done by morning.” 

He pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, rubbing reassuring circles across your exposed arm. “I hope so too. Don’t wanna get stuck up here. We ain’t even got that much food.” 

You couldn’t help but smile. “Of course you’d be worried about the food first.”

“Whatchu mean?” Jey sounded indignant, but you could hear the smile in his words. “You want us to starve to death in the mountains? Miles from civilization?”

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t think we’re gonna starve to death.”

Jey leaned up so he could look at you, his eyes sparkling with humor. “What if we can’t get the car out of the snow? You know how to drive on these icy-ass roads? We ain’t got no cell service, no hot water, nothing. We could die up here!” 

“I think you’re being a little dramatic.”

“Here we are about to starve to death in the wilderness and you got jokes. Look at me, I’m basically skin and bones at this point.”

“Is that so?” 

“Uh huh. Withering away and you don’t even care. It’s like you want me to die up here.” 

You couldn’t contain your laughter anymore, watching as his eyes lit up at the sight of your smile. 

“And now you laughin’ at me too?” Jey himself grinning from ear to ear. “Woooooow. Some girl I got. Laughin’ at my pain and agony.”

“Stop!” You admonished, leaning up to look at him. “You’re being ridiculous!”

Jey’s practically beamed. “But you love it.” He countered, reaching his arms around you to pull you into his lap. You giggled but didn’t resist, now straddling him as he leaned forward to kiss you. 

His smell was in your nose, sandalwood and bergamot, his lips impossibly soft as they claimed you. You weren’t sure how, but he tasted almost sweet.  

He leaned back to stare at you, his eyes taking in every inch of your face. 

“You’re beautiful.”

You felt your cheeks heat up at his words, but you kept his gaze. “So are you.”

He laughed and the sound was magical. “You ain’t supposed to call men beautiful. It’s only for girls.”

“That’s not true! Beautiful things get called beautiful. That’s just how it is.”

Jey raised an eyebrow. “Is that what I am? A beautiful thing?”

“A beautiful man.” You corrected, reaching up to play with the hairs in his beard. His smile at you was infectious and you couldn’t help but laugh, leaning your forehead against his. “But what do I know? I’m no expert.”

Jey’s eyes never left yours. “If anyone’s an expert on beautiful, it’d be you.”

Your cheeks were burning now and you found that you couldn’t hold his gaze anymore, looking back towards the crackling fire. 

“Hey,” Jey captured your chin between two of his fingers and brought your eyes back to his. “You believe me, don’t you?”

You offered him a shy smile. “I guess.”

Jey shook his head, letting out a huff of laughter. “You talkin’ ‘bout me being ridiculous. Listen to yourself. The most beautiful girl in the world don’t even know how perfect she is.” 

You didn’t want to argue with him, so you leaned forward instead, brushing your lips together just to tease him. 

He smiled at you, pulling you closer to give you a more passionate kiss, his long fingers reaching up to tangle in your hair. You felt his tongue nudge at your lips and they parted for him easily, allowing him to explore your mouth to taste you. 

You hadn’t realized that goosebumps had exploded across your exposed arms, though whether it was from the chill of the room or Jey’s touch you weren’t sure. 

“You cold, baby?” Jey looked concerned, his large hands running up and down your arms in an effort to keep you warm. 

You nodded, pulling his warm body closer. “Just a little.”

Jey chuckled, wrapping both of his arms around you. “Then lemme warm you up, sweetheart.”

Before you realized what was happening he was standing, keeping you in his arms with an easy strength. You wrapped your legs around his waist instinctively to stay balanced and Jey nuzzled your face, pressing sweet kisses to your cheek. 

“Bedroom?”

You nodded, burying your face into the crook of his neck as he carried you. 

As soon as the power had gone out, you’d lit some candles and placed them around the cabin. You were grateful for them now as Jey carried you to bed, the dim lighting glinting off his gold teeth as he smiled down at you. 

He laid you gently on the bed, quickly moving beside you so the two of you could snuggle under the heavy quilt. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close, his body warm. Your legs quickly entangled his, eagerly seeking out more of his warmth, and he let out a contented sigh as you got comfortable, his large arms cradling you against the bitter cold. 

“I gotchu, baby.” He murmured, his lips ghosting across your temple. “I always gotchu.” 

You nuzzled into his neck, inhaling more of his scent. You weren’t sure how it was possible for someone to smell so good, his scent positively intoxicating. 

When your lips met again there was a new urgency there, Jey’s hands drifting down to your hips to tug off your pajama pants. 

You wanted to make a joke about needing clothes to be warm, but his hand was quickly between your legs and the words died instantly on your lips, your mouth parting instead to let out a gasp as his fingers found your clit with ease. 

“There she is,” Jey cooed, keeping you close to him. “You want me to warm you up, baby? Want me to take care of you?” 

You nodded against him and he quickly stripped, fitting himself between your legs the moment they parted. You were already wet for him though you didn’t have time to be embarrassed about it, not as he began pressing into your folds, reaching down to guide himself into the tight warmth of your pussy. 

“Jesus, baby,” he groaned, his hips already stuttering against yours as he resisted the urge to thrust deeper into you without giving you any time to adjust. “You feel so fuckin’ good. Like you was made for me.” 

You spread your legs further to grant him better access, your leaking hole already spasming, practically begging for him to fill you. 

“Please, Jey,” you whispered, your voice already small at the feeling of him inside you. “I need you. Please.” 

“Shhh,” Jey shushed you, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek. He pressed a sweet kiss to your lips as he pushed deeper into you, the distant burn sending curls of pleasure up your spine. “It’s ok, baby. Just relax for me. Daddy’s gonna take care of you.” 

You whimpered at his words, your body instantly obeying as he continued to explore deeper inside you. And when he finally bottomed out, his heavy balls flush against you, you couldn’t help but gasp, tears springing into your eyes at how good it felt. 

He gave you a few seconds to adjust, peppering your face with sweet kisses and murmuring words of praise. “So good for me, baby. You always take me so well. My perfect girl.” 

He gave you an experimental thrust and you moaned at the feeling, throwing your head back against the pillow. 

He reached around to grab your ankle, hitching your leg over one of his shoulders as he leaned over you. This new position caused him to shift impossibly deeper inside you, his long cock now in your guts. He slowly began to thrust into you, keeping you full as he slid in and out with each shift of his hips. 

“Fuck, Jey,” you moaned, your eyelids fluttering as he fucked away all the worries and concerns from your mind. “You make me feel so good. Love you so much.” 

Jey’s eyes sparkled at your words, his free hand reaching out to trace your soft lips. “You’re so sweet to me, baby.” He murmured, his thrusts measured as he continued to grind against that sweet spot inside you. “I love you more.” 

He began to pick up the pace now, his grip tightening on your ankle as he kept you close. You couldn’t help but reach out to him, pleased when he took your hand and laced your fingers together. 

“Sweet girl,” he cooed, his hips snapping harder against you. “Don’t hold back. Lemme hear you.” 

You hadn’t realized you’d been biting your lip to keep those embarrassing sounds to yourself, but you wanted to please him so you relaxed, allowing the noises to spill from your lips as he continued to pound into you. 

“Good girl,” he praised, smiling as you let out a high-pitched whine, the sound needy. “That’s it. Tell me how much you want it.” 

“Want it so bad, Daddy,” you gasped, pleasure building inside you as he continued to fuck deep into you, aiming for that sensitive bundle of nerves with every thrust. “You make me feel so good. I can’t…I…” 

You couldn’t speak anymore, the pleasure settling in your mind like a fog, your body tensing as you felt the spring of pleasure coil inside you, threatening to snap. 

“It’s ok, baby.” He soothed, though his own voice was strained now, his hand tightening in yours as he moved closer and closer to orgasm. “Gonna give you whatchu need. Gonna make you feel good.” 

He already was, but you didn’t have the words to tell him, your eyes crossing with pleasure as his thrusts turned sloppy - the tell-tale sign that he was close. 

You were right there on the edge, tears blurring your vision as you looked up at him. He looked so perfect like this, miles of tattooed skin and rippling muscles, eyes dark and full of desire as he stared down at you. 

“Jey,” you whispered, your thighs shaking around him. “I’m gonna…I’m…” You couldn’t get the words out, but Jey understood you all the same. 

“Go ahead, baby,” he groaned, pushing your leg further back until it was practically next to your ear. “Come on Daddy’s dick.” 

You obeyed on instinct, Jey’s perfect, measured thrusts against you finally sending you over the edge. You felt the pleasure bloom in your core, the feeling blissful as you sank further into the mattress, fireworks exploding across your vision. 

As your cunt pulsed and fluttered around him, Jey let out a low moan, the feeling triggering his own release as he spilled into you. You felt the warmth spread inside you as he painted your gummy walls white, claiming you as his. His mouth was near your ear, breathy moans spilling from his lips as you continued to milk his cock. 

You felt like a feather floating back down to the mattress, your eyes still wet as you looked up at him. He met your gaze and smiled, his eyes filled with adoration. 

“So good, mamas,” he praised, his voice soft as he slowly pulled out of you. You felt your body tremble with aftershocks and Jey was quick to shush you, his hands gentle as caressed your exposed skin. “Shhh, it's alright, baby. I gotchu. I'll take care of you, sweetheart.” 

You offered him a sleepy smile, your body relaxing as he stepped away to grab a towel from the bathroom, cleaning both of you before climbing back under the quilt to cuddle with you. His body was still warm, his arms pulling you back into his embrace as he held you close. 

The room was quiet again, the only sound to be heard was the faint howl of the wind outside and the distant crackle of the fire. With no heat and an icy blizzard outside, the bedroom air was cold, but you weren’t worried. With Jey’s arms around you, his lips pressed into your hair, you knew that nothing bad could happen. It didn't matter that the power was out or that you were snowed in. You had each other and for now, that was enough.