#and that's such a huge step when you've been that low and don't feel like you deserve it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dwaekkicidal · 5 days

Note

Hii sian!! Im new to your page and i love your writing! I don't know if requests are open rn tho. So feel free to ignore this! I was thinking if you could write something like dom!hyunjin x fem!reader and like hyunjin punishing reader for flirting with some other guys. feel free to ignore it and if you do want to write it i will be more then happy to read it! Also it can involve anything:3

hi nonnie❤! thank you :') I'm glad you've enjoyed everything so far! requests are open :3 if you're ever not sure just check my pinned post!

hope you enjoy hehe <3

Much Needed Reminder

˚ʚDom!Hyunjin x Model!Readerɞ˚

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: ~2.3k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: fem!reader, rough sex, meaner Hyunjin (my staple at this point sry not sry), dirty talk, ‘slut’ name calling, some spanking, overstim, mentions of edging

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: fun fact: the name Choi (최) is actually pronounced "Chwe/Chwi" :)

MDNI!! smut below the cut

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

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You’re currently in some random studio in Seoul, modeling for an upcoming collaboration you were having with Beauty of Joseon, a skincare company. Your boyfriend happily tagged along for once, since he finally had some free time outside of his schedule. He sat in the sidelines and watched you do your thing, giving you a huge smile anytime your eyes met his. It led to some of the team’s favorite shots of you: your genuine smile shining from the attention of your lover.

All was going well until a few hours in, you noticed the lingering eyes of the producer staring at your cleavage any chance he could. It made you feel grossed out, but when your eyes landed on your boyfriend’s murderous gaze, you couldn't stop your legs from pushing together. ‘It’s been a while since we’ve had sex anyways… why not make a little game out of it.’

So, a game you started. It started with fake bashful glances at the producer, making sure both mens eyes were on you when doing so. Then, it quickly moved on to overly dramatic whines and puppy dog eyes whenever the producer would come up to you in order to describe a new pose. You could tell by the pink cheeks of the producer and the narrowed eyes of your boyfriend that the game was already going in your favor.

The final straw was when everybody was wrapping up, putting away the products and their cameras. You all but skipped over to the producer, placing your soft hands on his bare arms and squeezing. “Thank you so much, Producer Choi! I had soooo much fun today.” You made sure to say it loud enough so that the outraged boy watching your every move could hear your tone clearly. If Hyunjin wasn’t so blind by anger, he would’ve seen right through your fake act.

However, he is NOT God’s strongest soldier, and the sight of your hands on another man had him rising to his feet. He turned his back to the scene and walked towards the snack tables to grab a bottle of water. You watched him from your peripheral and the nonexistent victory screen was already in your line of sight.

Feeling quite proud of yourself, you suddenly tell the producer that you couldnt wait to ‘have him as a friend’ and quickly moved your hands away from him. You ignored the way his eyes widened and his smile faltered, and you offered him a sweet smile as you swiftly made your way to the double doors labeled “EXIT.”

As you’re walking down the long hallway, you hear long steps following you. You smirk to yourself and make a show to sway your hips with each step you take. There’s a faint groan and you bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing. As you step in front of the door with your name on it, you’re suddenly pushed against it. You let out a sigh as the ‘unknown’ man behind you pushes you into the door, rubbing his bulge between your ass cheeks. He sighs out a low “Jagiya..” and your mouth moves before your brain can stop you from digging yourself into a deeper hole.

“Oh~.. Is that you, Producer Choi?”

The man behind you tenses before essentially growling into your hair. He swings the door open and shoves you in, slamming the door behind him before stalking towards you. You’re quickly turned and pushed up against your vanity, meeting the angry and narrowed eyes of your boyfriend. His eyes dip down to your smirk and he rolls his eyes before grabbing you by the chin.

“You are such a pain in my ass.” He mumbles out, pulling you into a wet kiss and pinning between his body and the table. His hands fiddle with the bottom of your dress, pulling it up and above your head as he pulls away from your lips. You go to complain and ask what he thinks he’s doing all of the sudden but his hand moves to grab your cheeks, squishing them together and making it hard for you to speak clearly.

“If you wanted to be fucked so bad you could have just asked me, honey. No need to go rub your pretty hands all over some filthy freak who you don’t even know. You’re mine.”

You giggle against his hold and when his hands move down to cup your waist, you finally speak out, “Yeah but where’s the fun in that?”

“You think you’re just sooo cute, don’t you baby…” He whispers into your ear, his hands teasingly trailing down your sides to rest against your hips. When you nod with a big grin on your face he can’t stop himself from laughing. “Yeah, you really are. But I think you need a reminder of who you belong to. That cuteness won’t stop me from fucking you stupid all over this room.” He spins you around and roughly pushes you into the laminated table top by the back of your head.

You wiggle your hips impatiently as you hear him unbuckling his belt and pulling his lower clothes down in one go. He lands a loud smack to your right ass cheek, pulling your hips against his own when you squeak and run from the contact. His hands grip onto your waist and pull you back into him, also pushing you into the table to angle you downwards.

His free hand traces his tip along your folds to gather your wetness before pushing in rather impatiently. Off the bat he set a brutal pace, pummeling into you with each thrust as his hands roamed all over your body. He possessively squeezed at your hips and your shoulders anytime he passed them, hoping if he did it enough it would mark his name into your skin forever.

“F-Fuck! Hyunjin, wait! The d-door is unlocked.”

“Good. Maybe I’ll even fuck you up against it and let the staff hear your slutty moans so they know who you belong to.”

You whine at the thought, letting your eyes flutter closed. Your cheeks constantly rubbed against the table as your hands dug into the edge of it. Your hands shakily move near your chest in an attempt to push yourself up. But before you know it, one of his hands trails into your hair and grabs a fistful from your scalp. He angles your head back and uses his grip as leverage to hold you in place against the vanity as he fucked your brains out.

You cry out when your eyes land on the mirror above you. You were met with the sight of your boyfriend’s thick lips caught between his teeth, his eyes narrowed and focused on where his hips smacked against yours. His arm muscles flexed with the sheer strength he used to hold you down, and the sight had your legs shaking.

“Jinnieee.. Fffuck. I’m so close, pleaaase.” Your pleas sounded so desperate, but you couldn’t find it in you to care when one of his long fingers reached under you to rub messy shapes onto your clit. With the added stimulation, it took you no time to gush around him. Your legs shook beneath you as your orgasm ran through your body. It passed fast and once you were finished, Hyunjin quickly pulled out. You didn’t feel him cum and you looked back at him confused.

“I’m not even close yet, so we’re not done. You wanna act like a slut, you’re gonna get treated like one.” He growled out, pulling you away from the vanity and towards the loveseat in the room. He took a seat, spreading his legs widely before pulling you onto his lap. As your hips went to rest on him, he positioned himself so that you sat on his dick. You both let out low moans at the feeling, but his hands quickly moved away from you in favor of resting behind his head. When you made another confused face at him, he just smirked and leaned back against the couch. “C’mon baby. Work for it. I won’t do any of the work this round.”

You whine loudly and frown down at him, getting ready to complain that your legs were too weak but he thrusts his hips upwards roughly after your whine. “Play stupid games, win stupid prizes. Now hurry up before I leave you high and dry for the rest of the day.” You both knew he would never actually do it, he was way too obsessed with you and your body to even think about doing such a thing. But the way he casually lounged had you believing it and you clenched tightly onto him, pulling a cocky smirk from him.

Your bottom lip quivered but you dragged your hips against his, grinding against him slowly for a few minutes. You barely processed one of his hands moving as you ground yourself harder against him, whimpering at the way his shirt rubbed against your puffy clit. There was a harsh sting and a loud slap to your ass that sent you jumping forward. You expected to land against his broad chest, but instead you landed in a grasp that was his long fingers wrapped against your throat. Your gaze moved to lock with his but your eyes quickly shut feeling another slap hit your ass cheek.

“F-Fuck!” you cried out, tightening even more as you felt his fingers tighten around your neck.

“Do it the right way, baby.” He commanded, moving his hand from your ass to rest on your thigh. You finally lifted yourself and bounced on his dick, letting out desperate moans as you swore you could feel him in your stomach. You rode him like this for some time, only slowing down to admire his features.

He was leaned as far back as the chair allowed, face dripping with sweat as his lips held the biggest shit-eating grin ever known to mankind. From your movements, the hand on your thigh had fallen to your knee and his other hand continued to rest like a puzzle piece against your throat. Your hips stuttered as your orgasm suddenly snuck up on you. Creaming from just looking at your boyfriend must have been a new record.

Your movements almost completely stopped as your thighs shook uncontrollably, but Hyunjin wasn’t having any of that. His hands moved from their spots to grab your wrists, pinning them to your back in an X formation as he pulled you to lean on him. You were too distracted to notice the way your head fell to his shoulder, but you nestled into his neck when you felt his hips begin to slam into you.

You silently screamed from the overstimulation, quickly biting into his neck and crying out against his skin as he gave you no chance to recover. With the way his hands held yours, you had no choice but to take what was given. You felt saliva pooling in your mouth and you tried desperately to swallow it but one deep into your cervix thrust had you seeing stars. It finally dripped down your chin as he spoke up for the first time in what felt like forever.

“Nice and d-deep, right baby? Just how my little slut likes it?” He stuttered through the teasing statement at the feeling of his balls tensing up, and you could feel his thrusts getting sloppier. You nodded into his neck as your third orgasm built up fast, causing your nails to dig into your palms.

“You’re MY girl. This pretty pussy and this?” He pauses to land a slap on your ass, “This nice ass? Is MINE. Nobody can fuck you or love you like I do.” This sends you over the edge and you let out an porn-star like moan as you cum, your tightness finally being too much for him to handle and he finishes next.

The room is filled with nothing but your combined breaths as your heartbeats slowly return to normal. Your legs shake almost nonstop for a while after you calm down, and you find yourself whimpering at the feeling of Hyunjin pulling out. His dick slaps against his stomach and he coos soothingly against your ear.

Your forehead was still shoved against his shoulder when your eyes finally noticed your drool connecting your lips to his jacket. You shakily pulled away and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.

You sat on his thighs, feeling his cum drip out of you and onto the floor as his pretty hands massaged circles into your hips and his pretty lips whispered sweet nothings into your ear. Ranging from “You did so good for me, honey. Took me so well.” to “You’re so pretty, my little masterpiece. I got you, I got you. Don’t worry.”

By the time you both return to normal, you’ve been changed into new clothes and Hyunjin has become distracted and newly obsessed with the drool stain on his jacket. He could feel himself getting hard again while staring at it, but forced himself to tear his eyes away once it was time to leave. He grabbed your combined belongings and had you hold onto his arm as he led you to the taxi he had called on the ride down the elevator.

Everything was back to normal and extra sweet as he opened the door for you to sit first, then shoved your things into the truck before taking his own seat. You smiled up at him with those pretty eyes and whispered into his ear, “That was so much fun, Jinnie.. Sorry I flirted with the producer, but you see what my vision was.”

He laughed and pulled you into a soft kiss before leaning into your ear to whisper, “Oh, don’t worry baby, your punishment has barely even started. Once we’re home I’m edging you all night.”

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#anon asks <3 #sian’s writing #skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x reader smut #hyunjin smut #hyunjin imagines #hwang hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin smut #hwang hyujin imagines

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luveline · 7 months

Note

hi lovely :) i have a request for you!!

i’m thinking spencer reid x reader (and platonic!bau team if you don’t mind!!) where reader is having a bit of a rough time with mental health, but is 1 year clean and they have a lil celebration? thank you!!

-🍓 (this is my application for being an emoji anon lmao)

hi, thank you! ♡ fem 1k

cw implied drug use

You're expecting your boyfriend's voice when a hand touches your shoulder, but it's actually Hotch that speaks. "Good morning. Are you feeling alright?"

You meet his furrowed brow with a softer expression. "Morning, Hotch. I'm good, I'm," —you stretch your arms out in front of you in a lie— "just really tired."

"Take it easy today, okay?" You nod quickly. "Okay. And Y/N? Well done."

You enjoy the shoulder squeeze he gives you and hide your abject puzzlement as he heads up the steps to his office, briefcase in hand. It's always nice to be doted on, but what's today?

"Hello," a new voice says, a hand again on your shoulder, ducking down to kiss you behind the ear. Here's your expected boyfriend, Spencer's voice low and spectacularly sweet, "Good morning. You're here early, I haven't even made you coffee."

"That's okay, I can make it."

His arms cross over your chest. He touches you so confidently, his lack of hesitance a great encouragement; it's hard to find room to feel insecure about things when Spencer seems to see no faults in you. Hard, but not impossible.

As though he can sense your rough morning (rough week, rough month), he holds you that second longer than usual, lips like angora silk where they touch to your cheek. "I'll make it, thanks. It's the least you deserve today."

"Right," you say. He strokes your shoulder with his thumb in farewell, leaving you wondering. Today isn't your birthday, you'd probably know if it were.

"Hey, good morning!" Emily says as she arrives, thrusting her bag and her travel mug onto her desk before she descends on you.

It's her hug that breaks the camel's back, so to speak. You give her hands an absent minded hold but pull back in her embrace. "Emily," you say, frowning at her, "what's so special about today?"

She blinks like she's worried to tell you, but she gets it together and hugs you again. "You're one year clean today. Everybody's so proud of you," she says quietly.

You almost bite the tip of your tongue off. "How do you know that?" you ask. The thing about staying clean is that it haunts you until it doesn't. Some people can't ever beat it, and some people can. It's been a huge struggle for you, but eventually relapsing stopped feeling like an option, especially while you've been with Spencer. You can't do anything to jeopardise your safety while you're with him, you just can't. (That doesn't mean you haven't desperately wanted to.)

"Well, I knew it would've been around now, but Spencer sent us a memo. Nothing too detailed, you know, but we all…" She smiles at you wryly. "We care about you so much, and we didn't get it right with Spencer."

No, they didn't. Spencer didn't get half the support he deserved, so he's making sure you do.

There's something of a mental block in you that doesn't allow you to cry, but this shakes you roughly. Emily gives you a sorry smile and a last quick hug, apologising that she has to go and speak to Hotch before the work day officially begins. You lean back in your chair and click dazedly on an email from Penelope detailing how deeply loved you are and wondering if you'd like to go shopping. I know today might be really hard, so if you need me you know where I am. Love Pen.

"You okay?" Spencer asks, placing your coffee in front of you on the desk.

"Come and sit with me for a bit."

You don't sound like you're asking, but you are. Spencer hears the need in your demand and immediately grabs his chair to sit next to you. You're surprised he didn't squat.

You turn your face, lay your cheek on the short back of the chair uncomfortably, and take him in. He looks great these days, the memory of a young man firmly buried beneath a well-fitting suit, a cropping of facial hair, and the subtle, lean lines of muscle especially evident as he sits back to copy you, curls falling into his eyes. "You told everyone about my anniversary."

"Your accomplishment," he corrects quietly. "I did."

"I do want them to know, just… I feel a bit raw." You hardly remembered yourself, though you knew it was soon.

Spencer takes your hand, pulling the joined pair between his knees. "It's something to be extremely proud of. And there's nothing wrong with celebrating it."

"It's embarrassing–"

"It isn't." He sits up as someone comes closer and you follow suit. This is a complicated conversation and your simple intimacies are necessary but inappropriate in the workplace. "I'm sure there are a ton of people who find sobriety embarrassing, but those are all people who don't know what it feels like to have to do it. We," —his voice softens— "do. I know exactly how it feels, and I know exactly how you've been feeling lately, so I'm proud of you and everyone else should be too."

"How I've been feeling lately?" you ask.

"Come on." Spencer stands and takes your face into his hands. One is warmer than the other, and he uses it to stroke the baby hair's at your ear very gently. "You do a really good job at hiding how you feel, but you can't hide from me."

"I'm not trying to."

"Good," he says, leaning down to kiss you. A soft, brisk connection. "I love you."

"Not as much as I do, loverboy!" Morgan says as he arrives, giving Spencer a little nudge as he needles his arms behind your back and kisses your cheek.

"You're squeezing me."

"Have I told you lately how much I love you?" Morgan asks, squeezing your harder.

"Morgan, she knows you know."

"Know what?"

"You didn't see the memo?" Spencer asks.

"What memo?" Morgan grins at you with pearly white teeth and scrubs at your shoulders until you're squirming at the pressure. It's nice. "Looking good, gorgeous."

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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dameronalone · 11 months

Text

cozy night in

marc spector x f!reader

wc: 6,700

content: EXPLICIT!!!! explicit as hell. pwp, allusions to lacy underpants that idk counts as lingerie, Marc spector is a brat is its own warning

notes: thought this was gonna be a quick pwp. I was wrong. shout out to @the-force-awakens for beta-ing & leaving comments like [paraphrase] AKRJSD MARC SPECTOR TAKE ME NOW

ao3

There isn't much you like better than a quiet Friday night in. As fun as it is to go out, to dinner and a show, to this quiet little bar a few blocks away where you and Marc (or Steven or Jake) can sit cozy in a booth, unbothered and enjoying each other's company and the pleasant buzz of alcohol, nothing beat this: coming home to Marc quietly cooking dinner, the radio turned on and quiet, something acoustic and relaxed, the only music the three of them can agree on.

Nothing beats leaning to kiss Marc's jaw in greeting, relishing the quirk of his lips. Washing your face and changing out of your work clothes into comfortable leggings and a shirt, well-worn and soft and smelling of their aftershave.

It's nice to go out, tuck your hand in Jake's elbow, Marc's hand, around Steven's waist, show each other off with the subtle brag of I get this beautiful person all to myself. You like going out with them, especially with Marc who prefers to stay in, because it's such a testament to him, who he is, how much he wants to make those he loves happy.

But it's better like this.

There's the quiet tap-tap-tap of drizzling rain on the window, and you're grateful it hasn't turned into a storm. Marc doesn't like storms, and as you step up behind him, winding your arms around his waist and pressing your face to the back of his neck, you don't want his rarely-relaxed shoulders to tense again.

One of the things you like the most about Marc is his silences, how he doesn't expect you to talk constantly and doesn't pressure you to speak when you can't, and how he knows you do the same for him. Especially when it's been a long day, ending a long week at work, and you just need time to be quiet, snuggle into Marc as he cooks, moving as little as possible.

It's not until you heave a huge breath and lift your head, feeling a little more like a person, and peer over his shoulder to see what he's cooking - pan-fried salmon, oven roasted vegetables, that creamy macaroni and cheese recipe you love that takes a special brand of cheese Marc has to hunt down from across town - that he speaks.

"How was your day?" Marc asks quietly, touching his fingertips to the back of your hand at his diaphragm.

"Mm. Long," you say, kissing his shoulder, and releasing him to gather plates and pour drinks. "Glad it's over. Our internet kept going offline which only put us more behind schedule."

Marc makes a sympathetic sound as he takes the plates and serves up your dinner, and you follow him to the couch with two glasses and a new bottle of that cheap white you prefer that Marc must've picked up today as well.

"How was your day, baby?" you ask, settling next to him. He hands you your plate and clicks on the TV before answering.

"Fine. Normal. Went back to sleep after you left, got around to cleaning. I dunno how Steven lived like this," Marc grumbles, but it's good natured, and you giggle, scooting closer as you take a bite. Steven's messy tendencies never failed to grate on Marc's careful neatness.

Still, they'd come to a sort of understanding, and Marc didn't upset Steven's chaotic system of mess as long as he got to clean to his heart's content (which was often and for a long time).

The pair of you settle into companionable quiet, the TV volume quiet, subtitles on the low-stakes action movie you've seen a million time to keep you company while you eat. By the time you're finished, you're pleasantly full and mildly sleepy, ready to cuddle with Marc until bed. Marc pats your thigh and takes your plate, standing to take the dirty dishes to the sink, washing up.

You wish he'd relax, leave the dishes for later, but he likes to take care of you, and he has a thing about germs, so you leave him in peace. The quiet sounds of running water and clanking dishes are domestic, homey; you look over your shoulder to catch sight of Marc at the sink, head bowed as he meticulously scrubs the frying pan.

God, you love him. You love all three of them, but you'd met Marc first, and he'd always have a special place in your heart reserved for him.

Marc rinses the pan, grabs the towel off his shoulder, and turns to look at you as he dries it. He raises his eyebrows when he catches you staring, and even though you feel your face warm, you don't look away, raising your eyebrows back at him.

"You're missing the movie," Marc says pointedly.

"Seen it a million times," you say, shrugging and fighting back a smile. Marc looks doubtful.

"It's more interesting than watching me wash dishes."

"Is not," you frown, turning around to sit on your knees, properly facing him. "I'd rather look at you. I'd watch you do taxes."

Marc's face twists up in exasperation, turning around to put the pan up and drain the sink. You don't press the issue, because he still has problems taking blatant compliments and accepting affection like that, but you'd never lie to him, especially not about this. You give him a minute, wait until he's wiping down the counter for the third time before you talk again.

"I'd watch you do plenty of boring things. Or interesting things. I like to look at you, Marc," you say softly, smiling in an attempt to convince him.

Marc exhales, shaking his head as he sets the towel down and turns to face you, crossing his arms over his chest, which only makes him look more broad than he already is.

"I'd rather look at you," he says. He takes a few steps closer, though he's still too far away and out of reach and you suddenly want him in your arms. "I'd rather look at you when you're too busy to look at me."

"You like that, huh?" Your own voice surprises you, abruptly small and breathless. Marc takes a few more slow steps, even nearer, close enough to touch, but you don't move yet. His head dips in a nod.

"Like when?" you ask before he can say anything, hands gripping the couch cushions to hide the trembling. Fuck, you've never wanted anyone the way you want him.

Marc's mouth twitches upward, and he uncrosses his arms, tracing the line of your jaw with his fingertips before curling under your chin, and tipping your head back.

"Like when you read," he says. His voice is a quiet rumble but it's the only thing you can hear. "Or when you cook. Or when you're asleep."

His expression shifts, a little more teasing, more playful. "Or when you shower."

"Perv," you mutter, not meaning it, narrowing your eyes at him regardless. Marc starts to bend down and you hold your breath.

"You like it," he mutters, breath warm against your face.

But moments before his lips touch yours, you blurt, "Why d'you like it?"

Marc pauses, thumb stroking your chin, and you honestly don't expect him to give you an answer, already trembling in anticipation of his all-consuming kiss.

"Because it means you trust me."

The words are barely audible, and you hardly have time to process their meaning before he closes the distance, mouth firm and warm against yours. The meaning clicks belatedly, as Marc licks at the seam of your mouth until you open, and you clutch at his shirt helplessly. You want to break away, tell him that you do, you trust him with everything, love him so much, only - he's merciless, your Marc, ruthless in the way he kisses you, and he doesn't give you a second to think.

Not for the first time do you curse your need to breathe - Marc seems to sense you're at your limit, lungs beginning to burn, so he pulls away from your mouth, but you immediately miss his lips on yours. You suck in a breath, chest heaving to try and catch your breath, but it turns into a gasp - Marc has turned his attention to your jaw, the line of your neck, and scrapes his teeth along the tendon there just as you inhale.

Fuck. He had no right to be this good a kisser, no right to have you melting into his touch and still craving more seconds after he'd first kissed you with intent.

He slips his hands up your shirt, caressing your waist and drifting higher, and you know he finds the surprise when he pauses, drawing back from your neck, raising an eyebrow and giving you a look.

"Now what's this?" Marc asks, voice low and rich with desire, fingertips tracing the lacy band of your bra. Finally, the tables turn and you manage to catch your breath. You smile, sly, and look at him from under your lashes,

"Just something for you," you say, and giggle breathlessly when Marc moves to pull your shirt up and off. The sudden cool air that washes over your newly bared skin sends goosebumps rippling across your arms and chest - or maybe it's the way Marc is looking at you, and the dark blue bralette you'd changed into;, comfortable, just lace and elastic, but something for Marc to enjoy.

He hadn't so much told you how much he liked you in lace, and rich colors like the deep blue you wore now, but he didn't need to say it. Actions speak louder than words, especially when it comes to Marc Spector.

"Baby," Marc rumbles, brushing one hand across the swell of your breast so gently you might've imagined it, "You're killing me here."

"God, I hope not," you say, breaking into giggles again when Marc groans, overdramatically exasperated, and hauls you to his chest. He stands up, taking you with him, and you shriek in surprise as he takes you right over the back of the sofa, winding your legs around his hips - as if he'd ever let you fall.

Marc deposits you on the bed, and though he isn't laughing, he's smiling, shoulders twitching as he stands over you, pulling his shirt over his head in a quick yank that never fails to send a thrill down your spine - but you count it as a win, getting Marc to smile like that, laugh his private little understated laugh.

"What am I supposed to do with you?" he says, almost to himself as he undoes his belt, but you answer anyway, squirming to get more comfortable.

"I can think of a few things," you say, looking up at him from beneath your lashes as you stretch out.

"Yeah, I bet you can," Marc says, rolling his eyes fondly as he shoves his jeans down and kicks them off. And then he's standing at the foot of the bed in nothing but his underwear, and you can see the half-hard bulge of him. Your mouth waters at the sight and you half-heartedly push up onto an elbow, but Marc's hand closes around your ankle and tugs, pulling you down the bed and closer to him.

You shriek again in surprise, which fades into giggles as you knock your heels into the back of his knees, trying to urge him closer. Still, you love it when he towers over you like this, when you're flat on the bed and he's still standing. You can't figure out how he's real, the chiseled features and healthy strength on his body; you're mesmerized by the flex of muscle and tendon when he reaches for the waistband of your leggings, belatedly lifting your hips to help. When you look at his face again, his eyes are already on yours, warm and dark as he drags your pants down, but not your underwear.

Marc drops your pants to the floor, sliding his palms up your newly bared skin, hiking your knees around his waist. He leans down, palming your hips, the matching blue lace, and nudges your noses together, but doesn't kiss you. Waits until you're huffing an impatient breath and tipping back your chin and whining out, "Marc-" before he seals his mouth to yours.

He kisses you for a long moment, warm and slick, licking into your mouth, stroking your sides. All you can do his wind your arms around his shoulders, dig one hand into his hair.

"What do you want?" Marc murmurs, breaking away for a moment, pressing the words into your cheek along with a kiss. "Hm, baby? Tell me so I can give it to you."

He's hardly touched you and already you feel worked up, borderline overwhelmed and squirming - Marc knows damn well what you want (anything he'll give you) but he likes to hear you say it. Likes to draw the words from you when you're strung out and wanting.

You're not that far gone.

"Marc, c'mon-" is as far as you get before one of his hands at your hip slips down, squeezing the softness of your thigh, and then in. His thumb finds your clit through the fabric of your underwear and he presses down until you whine.

"What was that, baby?" Marc asks, amusement in his voice, and you huff, annoyed, and snap,

"I want you to touch me, Spector."

Marc chuckles, slips his thumb further down and effortlessly finds your entrance - or at least, where it's hidden and inaccessible through your underwear.

"Isn't that what I'm doing?"

Teasing asshole that he is, Marc only presses his thumb down, until your hips are bucking up, and then pulls his hand away. He pats your hip, mockingly sympathetic, then reaches to pull your hands down from around his shoulders, and rises to his full height.

You try to snap his name - Marc! - but it comes out like a whine, breathless and pleading - "Maaarc-"

Marc chuckles again, pushing the gusset of your underwear aside, staring down at where you're wet and dark.

"Want me to put something in that pussy? You want me to fill you up, make you full? That what you want, baby?"

You try to answer. Try to tell him yes, fuck yes, Marc - but you can only moan, eyes glued to his other hand that reaches into his own underwear.

Fuck you've never seen such a gorgeous cock. It's not fair, it's not fucking fair that Marc Spector and his alters are the perfect man. It can't be real that you get this. Anxious with anticipation, you fist your hands in the sheets, watching as he strokes himself languidly, still staring at your aching cunt. You think your chest might cleave in two from the strength of the want coursing through your body, and tip your head back, slamming your eyes closed.

Distantly, you hear Marc spit, hear the wet sound of him stroking his cock again. Fuck fuck you need him inside, need him inside before he changes his mind and fucks you open with one, two, three fingers and tongue before he gives you his cock, draw it out like he likes. All at once you feel the fat head of him rubbing against you, burning hot. Marc pushes - lets the fattest part of him breach you - stops moving with you stretched around him, quietly groans and you want to hear it again, stops moving even as your cunt clutches at him desperately, trying to pull him inside -

"That's all you get for now," Marc says hoarsely, pulling out, and taking your underwear with him, even as your eyes shoot open.

"Marc, oh my god," you snarl, and he resolutely ignores you as he goes to his knees on the floor, pulling one of your legs over his shoulders. He doesn't move, though you can feel his breath against you, and then - Marc fucking inhales, breathes in the smell of you.

"So fucking impatient," Marc complains, and ducks his head to taste you.

There's not a lot better than this, in Marc's opinion, not a lot better than settling on his knees with his face buried in the apex of your legs, soft thighs tensed around his head. He drags the flat of his tongue up your pussy, opening you up to him, groaning at the musky taste that he'll never get enough of. He pulls away, folding one arm under your thigh, keeping you from squirming out of his grip as he runs his palm up your other leg. You haven't shaved in awhile, and your legs are starting to grow soft and fuzzy again, and he loves it.

Marc rubs his cheek against the softness of your inner thigh, lets his hand drift up your thigh to squeeze your hip, then slip around and down, swiping through your folds to circle your clit. You make a breathless sound, jerking your hips up in search of more, but Marc holds firm, presses first his lips, then his teeth to your thigh, and ducks back to taste your cunt.

He rubs your clit with the pads of his fingers, searching for the essence of you inside with his tongue, then changes tactics, taking his slicked up fingers and pressing them deep. It pulls a kind of wheezing sound from you and Marc strains to look up at you without pulling away. You've got one arm thrown over your face, the other hand desperately grabbing the sheets, chest heaving.

(It makes him think of a few nights ago: he'd gotten home late to find you sleepy but awake, laying in bed waiting for him. He likes fucking you when you're sleepy because you're so much more responsive and he can draw words out of you with every stroke of his things between your legs. He'd cradled you close, pressed up against your side, fucked you slow and deep with his fingers and he'll never forget the way you gasped, "Full, feels full," when he'd asked you what it felt like.)

"Fuck," Marc groans, tucking his face back down between your legs. "Fuck, that's it. Good girl." His words are muffled even to himself, and he has no idea if you can understand him or not, but you moan regardless, and he doesn't really care.

He can tell you're getting close, from the aborted, jumpy little thrusts your hips keep giving, from the way you start to hold your breath. Marc pushes you right up to the edge.

And then stops, removing his fingers, turning his head away. Distantly, you're cursing his name, writhing and trying to get him back where you want him, but as much as you try to play at being demanding, Marc knows you like submitting too much to actually be upset.

The dim lighting catches on the thin sheen of sweat on your skin, the dampness collecting in the folds of you, in the crease where your thigh joins your hip, and Marc ducks his head, licking away the salt of you.

"Marc," you say, sounding far away, and when he lifts his head to look at you - take in your expression, needy and pleading - he thinks he falls just a little more in love with you. "Marc," you say again, hands reaching for him clumsily, caressing his shoulders, carding through his curls.

"What is it, baby," he murmurs, lifting his hand that had been curled around your thigh to catch your wrist, kissing your palm, the pounding of your pulse. "What do you need?"

"You know what I need," you complain, practically growling as you tug on his hair harshly. Marc just chuckles, not bothering to remove your hand from his hair even though the pressure on his scalp almost hurts - but it's good. Keeps him right here with you.

"What do you want then," Marc asks, pressing deceptively gentle kisses to your hips, your belly beneath your navel. Your stomach jumps and dips as the wash of his breath, and he can just make out the faint whine that falls from your mouth.

"Want you to kiss me again," you admit, lifting your bashful gaze to meet his. And fuck - he'll give you anything you want. He doesn't know how you haven't figured it out yet.

"I can do that," Marc tells you, moving until he was level with you, hand still slick with your wetness curving around your hip as he cups your cheek with the other.He doesn't make you wait this time, dips down to kiss you, languid.

One of Marc's favorite things about this - sex - was how it immerses every sense. Not just touch, though he could never get enough, your hands on his, gripping his shoulders and waist, grabbing hair, his hands on your skin, anywhere and everywhere, but the rest of them. The way you look when you moan and arch your back and your eyes flutter. The way you sound, the hitch of your breaths, the slick sound of his tongue in your mouth. The way you taste, fuck, the way you smell.

But fuck he loves the little sounds. Loves being this close to you when he dips his middle two fingers inside your dripping cunt. When he's this close, Marc can catch the breathless whines and moans before they have a chance to escape. This close, Marc can watch your face screw up as he adds his pointer finger, fucking you with three now.

"There you go," Marc mutters when your hips start to roll against his hand, grinding against his palm and clenching around his fingers, "fuck, just like that."

His name escapes you mouth in a little puff of air, your hand in his hair slowly relaxing until you slide your hand down to clutch the back of his neck. Your eyes flutter back and - that right there. That’s one of his favorite expressions on you, focused yet a million miles away, too caught up in the pleasure coursing through your body to pay attention to him, to watch him watch you. This is what he meant earlier, when he told you - confessed to you that he liked it when you weren’t looking back at him.

A groan escapes Marc’s mouth before he can stop it, wrecked and torn from his throat, but you don’t seem to notice, or at least acknowledge it. He ducks his head, suddenly frantic with the need to taste your skin, dig his teeth into your neck, sharp points of pain to counter the warming bliss between your legs. As always, the touch of his teeth to your skin has you gasping, then moaning, unashamed and loud. Marc gets lost in it, marking up the long line of your throat, realizing almost too late that he’s gotten carried away. You’re fucking close; he can tell by the quiver of your thighs around his hand, the jerk in your hips.

“Not yet, baby, hold on,” Marc murmurs, voice rough as he eases his fingers out of you, soothing you even though he’s the one that has you whining and squirming and calling his name -

Fuck, Marc had to admit this was one of his favorite things, when he holds you at the edge, has you stripped down bare and aching - when he dangles you in front of your release, just to hear you call his name, plead with him to let you come. Marc liked to deny you, and deny you again, but more than that, he loved to give it all to you, give you everything and more until all you can do is cling to him, and him alone. He didn't keep your release, or anything from you because he didn't want you to have it. To the contrary, there was nothing Marc wanted more than to give you everything you have ever wanted.

He’d admit it to himself, and only himself - Marc liked when you were desperate, but only when you needed him to give you what you want, what you need.

He always would.

“Marc, Marc, baby, please, just - I want - I need to, Marc-”

You’re babbling, nearly past coherency, bravado peeled back with your bra, and dropped to the floor. You must've been more tired than usual tonight, or this is what you wanted the whole time, to already be this far gone. Marc shushes you again as he slips down your body, burying his face between your breasts, just for a moment, before turning his head to suck a mark on the swell. You keen when he takes the nipple in his mouth, when he carefully covers the other with his palm, and squirm against his thigh parting your legs. Abruptly, Marc is very aware of his own nakedness, his cock hard and aching and leaking near your hip. He closes his eyes, groaning, and allows himself to grind back against you, just once.

Fuck fuck, he loves you. Can’t get enough of you. Pulls off your breast to say, “I know, I know, honey.” He keeps his voice low, gravelly and thick with want. “I know you need to come, don’t you? Need to come all over me?”

“Fuck,” you gasp, “please, please-”

“It’s okay, you did good, such a good girl for me,” Marc continues, kisses your collarbones, your jaw, bites your bottom lip. “I always give you what you need, right? My good girl. Don’t I give you what you need? C’mon, tell me.”

Your eyes blink open, lashes damp, eyes wide and blown out. You say, “Always give me what I need, Marc.” And your voice breaks, and so does Marc’s resolve.

“Yeah I do,” Marc growls, and pats your hip. “Now turn over, baby. I’ll give you what you need.”

You move, half rolling over on your own power, limbs clumsy, half Marc maneuvering you where he wants you, until you’re on your belly, hands trembling as they curl in the blankets. You peer over your shoulder at him, eyes half lidded, as he runs his hands down your spine, strokes your sides. He likes the way your skin feels, soft and unmarred as much as his is. Sure, you have scares here and there, a few on your forearm that had worried him until you assured him it was from your parents’ cat, but all in all - you are warm, soft, supple under his own calloused and scarred hands. He curls his hands around your hips, squeezing, and then pulls you back towards him, onto your knees, and palms the round of your ass.

“There you go,” Marc mutters, needlessly wetting his fingers before sliding them back between your legs, where you are dripping, soaking wet. A choking sound slips from your mouth as you jerk back against him, and Marc hisses when the motion brings your ass in contact with his dick.

He doesn’t need to open you up - not when he can feel the seeking clench of your pussy when he brushes against your entrance.

Marc pulls his hand away, absently petting your hip, shushing you softly to counter the needy sounds that spill from your mouth. He slides his hand around from your hip to part your folds, taking himself in hand with the other, and eases inside. You gasp, arching your back, muscles bunching when you try to grind back, force him all the way in, but Marc grasps your hip, keeps it slow. Waits until he’s half inside the blisteringly hot clutch of your cunt before shoving himself the rest of the way.

It’s almost too much for him, nearly too much for you as well if the wail you let out is anything to go by, and Marc lurches forward, groin shoved up against your ass. He plants a fist in the mattress near your head, the only thing keeping him from collapsing on top of you and rutting helplessly to his climax. Even still, his own panting chest is pressed along the length of your back and he can feel every shift of your body, of the muscle under your skin.

“Marc, Marc, Marc-” you chant, words cutting off into a low moan when Marc pulls out and shoves back in. And again. And again. And again, until you sound like you can’t take a full breath. Your hand comes up, clasping his wrist, squeezing and holding on like it’s the only thing keeping you tethered to reality. And then your forehead is pressing against his inner wrist, and your eyes are slammed shut, and Marc thinks he can feel the throb of your pulse around his dick.

Fuck - the idea has his hips stuttering, briefly losing his rhythm as he grinds into you for a second longer. He can tell you’re close, that it won’t take much to get you there, and by God, he’ll get you there.

Marc lets go of your hip, belatedly realizing just how hard he’d been grabbing it, winding his arm around your waist and holding you tight, fitting his chin over your shoulder to first nip your jaw, and then talk you the rest of the way.

It doesn't take a lot, especially when you're this close, when you can hardly pay attention to what he's saying but that's never stopped him before. Marc opens his mouth and lets words spill out, lets them out the way he so rarely ever does - just like that baby, I know I know, you're close, so good, pussy so tight taking all of me like this and just a little more baby, you can take more, take me deeper, lemme in, lemme fuck you open, lemme fill you up and taste it after and fuckfuck c'mon, come for me baby I know you want it, been so good waiting, come on my cock baby, c'mon c'mon -

Somewhere between taking a breath and the spill of words, you lock up beneath him, back arching impossibly further, nails digging into his wrist as your mouth drops open and your eyes roll back and you wail as you come around him.

And it feels so fucking good, Marc almost blows his load right then and then, hissing and swearing, his hips stuttering against yours as he tries not to think about the way you're clenching and squeezing around him and the way he can feel you start to drip down his balls. Fuckfuckfuck.

Marc sits back, petting your spine, your waist and hip. He slides his fingers through the sweat pools in the dip of your back, licks the salt of it off his fingertips, then carefully pulls out. When he rolls you onto your back, you're still blissed out, chest heaving as you catch your breath, eyes glazed and half lidded as you distantly stare up at him.

His lips twitch, something like fondness filling his chest like a balloon, and he crawls back over you, covering you with his body as he dips down to kiss your slack mouth. It takes you a moment to reboot enough to kiss him back, soft and pliant and rendered loose-limbed from your climax.

Marc pulls back, barely-there smile gracing his lips, and whispers, "There you are. Think you have another one for me?"

He's going to be the death of you. It's not even the most orgasms he's coaxed from your body before, not even close, but it was a long day and you were already sleepy before this - Marc Spector is gonna kill you during sex one day and you just hope he's not so smug about it that he forgets to miss you.

But he's smiling softly, stroking your hips and waist, the swell of your breasts, and it's not like you could ever turn him down, not really.

"Okay," you murmur, slowly bringing up your arms that feel like lead to curl around his shoulders. "Like this though. Wanna kiss you during."

"Yeah, okay," Marc agrees softly, sliding his hand down your leg, nudging until you curl your leg around his hip. "Like this," he says, brow furrowing as he carefully pushes back in.

It feels good to have him inside you again, and you'd be perfectly content to enjoy the pleasant friction that sparked through your body of Marc chasing his own release, but he'd never allow that, not if you were okay with coming again. You think he thinks if he makes you come enough times, it somehow makes it okay for him to let go, like he has to make it worth it for you in order for him to be vulnerable.

Yeah, it's a depressing thought. You're working on it with him. Just not right now.

His cock hits something up in your guts that sends pleasure sparking through your nerves, from the pit of your stomach and through your back, all the way to your fingertips, and your sigh turns into a breathy moan. You know Marc prefers to have you bent over, to take you from behind, knows that's when he feels closest to you, but you prefer it like this.

Marc, braced over you, muscles shifting and flexing with every thrust, the dim lighting catching on his skin, the sweat that's gathered there, making him glow golden. His face bent close to yours, furrowed with concentration, eyes occasionally slipping shut, then wide open again as he looks at you, the familiar warm brown of his eyes blown dark.

You like it like this, like having his face in easy reach. You slide your hands down, press your palms to the sides of his face, drawing his attention back to you, and his mouth. His lips meet yours as he snaps his hips, and you gasp, surprised, and you think you can taste a smile before he dips his tongue inside your mouth.

Something shifts in the mood, the atmosphere, and all at once Marc is just a little more intense, panting as he fucks into you, punched out sounds bursting from his mouth before he can swallow them. You clutch at his face, keeping him close, though you're hardly kissing, more open mouths pressed together and exchanging breaths.

"Fuck," Marc chokes, voice low and rough. He's gone to his elbows, nearly pinning you to the bed as he snaps his hips against yours, quicker than you think should be possible. "Fuck, gimme another."

"Marc," you say, clutching his face, his neck, shoulders. "Marc." It's all you can say, pressing your bent knee to his hip and thigh.

Marc moans your name in return, worming his forearm under your shoulders, then leans his weight on that elbow, and slides his other hand down your body, between your legs. His hair is damp with sweat, curling and hanging loosely over his forehead. He looks so good. He looks like how you imagine a Roman god would look, brought to life. Mars, Pluto, Neptune. It's not fair.

It's not fucking fair, is the thought running through your mind when Marc presses the pads of his fingers to your swollen clit, and you come again with a jolt. This time, you're nearly silent, and it feels like losing track of time, like reality fades away and it's just you and the warm bliss coursing through your veins.

Slowly, you realize Marc hasn't stopped thrusting, if anything, increasing his pace, marginally. It draws out your own orgasm, but there's nothing you want more than for Marc to come, to watch him reach his climax, feel his body tense and feel him spill into you, listen to his breath hitch, hear him choking on a gasping moan that sounds like a sob.

You want it, you want it so badly, so you clutch at his face, and moan his name, "Marc, Marc, come for me, please come, Marc, I want it, wanna feel you come in me, pleasepleaseplease-"

He breaks as soon as you start to beg, throwing his head back as his hips stuttering against yours as his control snaps, and he comes. Just like you'd imagined, hoped, Marc makes that choking sound, ripped from deep in his chest, as he fills you.

Arm buckling, Marc nearly collapses on top of you, just managing to avoid crushing you under his weight, shifting himself to the side so he was more on the bed than you. Still, you like it when he covers you, enjoy the warmth and weight of him.

Right now, you do the same, shifting your arms to wrap around his waist loosely as you try to catch your breath, as Marc does the same. He still hasn't pulled out, and you hope he stays in for as long as he can, because this had to be the best part of sex - when you are both finished, sated and too tired to move, when you are curled together and still joined. One.

You don't move even when Marc shifts his weight, adjusting your hips to stay connected. You can feel his gaze but you don't look back just yet, still staring up at the ceiling under guise of catching your breath still. You don't look when Marc starts to pet your hip in soothing, repetitive stokes. You don't look when that hand slips between your legs, to touch the slick folds parted around his cock, and feel his seed leaking slowly out.

Only when Marc palms your thigh, holding you open, carefully pulling out, do you look at him. His gaze is focused between you, at his softened dick and the mess he's made of your pussy.

"Probably shouldn't have done that," Marc rumbles, voice slightly hoarse. You raise your eyebrows at him meaningfully. He glances at you, huffing when he sees your expression, and winds his arm around your waist, tugging you onto your side, flush against him. "I know you're on the pill, but still."

You just smile, snuggling close. Marc curls his hands around the back of your neck, sliding up to cup your head, and it makes you feel precious, cared for, when he touches you so gently, so thoughtfully. Even when he tilts your head back to kiss you, soft and meandering at first, before slipping his tongue against yours again. It doesn't last long, though you lick at the spit connecting your mouths when he pulls away, just to watch his eyes darken.

"Let's get you cleaned up," Marc murmurs, cupping your cheek. He swipes his thumb over the swell of your cheek. "You need to sleep. You look wore out."

As he pulls away and rises to get a towel or washcloths, you speak: "Gee, I wonder why that could be."

Your voice is rough, and Marc just shoots you a look over his shoulder as he stands, and you hum, settling back against the pillows, content with his reaction. You watch him bustle around for a moment, soaking up the sight of him perfectly naked and comfortable, and feel just as comfortable in your own nudity at the moment, though your eyes drift lower and lower.

"I'd watch you like this too," you say slowly, sleepily, and so quietly, you don't know if Marc hears you.

You don't realize you'd closed your eyes until you feel Marc's hand on your forehead, at your scalp, hear the murmur of his voice.

"Brought you some water, baby. You need to drink some."

You whine, sleepy, and crack your eyes open. Your legs feel less sticky, and he must have wiped you off while you dozed. You don't want to move, you think, looking up at him, leaning over you, looking so concerned.

"Come on," he coaxes again, tugging at your arm, and you go this time, sitting up just enough to get a few sips of water down. When Marc is satisfied with your intake, he puts the glass on the nightstand and crawls in beside you, tucking you in under the sheets and next to him.

Sighing, content to have him against you again, you snuggle into his chest. What an excellent start to your weekend. You will sleep soundly tonight, pleasantly worn out, sleep in without a care in the world for your alarm, and undoubtedly be woken by one of the boys between your legs, either Jake or Steven wanting their turn, or Marc wanting seconds, but for now, you'll sleep, and so will Marc.

#dameronalone reader fic #18+#Marc spector x reader #marc spector x f!reader #marc spector smut #marc spector x you #moon knight x reader #moon knight smut #pls rb + comment if you've read this far <3

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rin-fukuroi · 4 months

Text

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐬 [𝐉𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐮𝐚𝐧]

Please do not translate or publish my works without my permission.

The originals of my works can be read here

Fandom: Honkai: Star Rail

Pairings: Jing Yuan x fem!reader

Warnings: just cute fluff

▶• ılıılıılıılıılıılı. Taemin - Pretty boy

Note: English is not my native language, so I apologize if there are errors in the text qq

Maybe the new year is already over, but it's never too late to just feel the warm and loving and caring atmosphere of the holiday

— Well, well, don't be naughty, I'm almost done! — you playfully scratch behind your big soft ear.

Mimi has been spinning around underfoot for several minutes, poking his big nose at your dangling heel in the air. No wonder, because his owner hasn't been home for several days, he misses him as much as you do. It's a pity that you can't explain to him that everything is fine, it's just that someone decided to postpone all work until the end of the year, so Mrs. Fu Xuan now doesn't let the General out of the office until there is not a single scroll left on his desk. Harsh, but Jing Yuan deserved it.

In any case, this is a good opportunity to finish the gift that you have been hiding with extreme care from your curious husband for several months. Let the General not appear at home as often as you would like, this man is as clingy as a person can imagine. Are you cooking something? He'll happily steal a couple of slices of vegetables from the chopping board and put his arm around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder until you shoo him to the table. Are you reading? It's time to take a nap on your lap — the softest and most comfortable pillow according to General Lofu Xianzhou. Going to bed? Great, he's just tired and will gladly squeeze you in his warm, almost suffocating embrace. And it's incredibly sweet, but not when there were only a few days left before the New Year so that you could finish his gift.

Leo raises his head with some puzzlement, watching you vigorously weave thick threads with knitting needles, periodically leaning back in an armchair opposite the fireplace to evaluate the preliminary result of your painstaking work. You're really bad at needlework. If someone had told you a few years ago that you would be sitting and knitting with a serious look, you would have laughed a lot at the person who voiced such a funny joke. The desire to step over yourself, learn something new, become better for another person is also part of the relationship that you got involved in as unexpectedly as you decided to make a gift with your own hands.

The firewood crackles softly in the fireplace, and the dancing flames cast a soft shadow on the carpet under your feet and a half-asleep Mimi threatening to crush your ankle when the lion settles his huge fluffy head on it. The same atmosphere, the same warmth and the same thrill as the day when Jing Yuan proposed to you so simply and casually in this very place. You've always been like this. Carefree, just enjoying each other's company. Perhaps, from the outside, your banter with each other, lightness and carelessness are seen by others as the relationship of two good friends, but isn't that the whole point? You always think that Jing Yuan is really your closest and irreplaceable friend, with a smile on your lips, inexpressibly happy that you are so lucky to have him.

Therefore, even what you are doing clumsily now, snorting irritably under your breath when the drawing slides to the side and the threads get tangled in your hands, in some way brings you pleasure. It is unlikely that Jing Yuan will wear this, as there is an extremely low probability that you will take up knitting needles again, but you pass all those warm feelings that have been lurking in your heart all these years through your fingers holding metal sticks in your hands in the hope that the General will be able to feel them on his own body.

— Oh, well, your owner will owe me when I give him this gift, — you chuckle softly, glancing at the lion, whose ear twitches as soon as it catches the sound of your voice.

A soft sigh leaves your chest as you lean back in your chair, reaching for a mug of cocoa with tiny marshmallows on the coffee table. The hot sweetness spreads in your mouth, and you calm down a little, once again looking at the sweater on your lap.

— Do you think it doesn't look too lame? — you "try on" a sweater by applying it to your chest, and you meet Mimi's sleepy gaze, snorting softly before turning away in the opposite direction from you. — Is it that bad?!

— What's wrong, dear? — the heavy weight of Jing Yuan's body abruptly falls on your shoulders, making you shudder when he suddenly sneaks up from behind, wrapping his big hands around your shoulders.

Mimi instantly takes her head off your leg and happily wags her tail, like a dog waiting for its owner. Perhaps Jing Yuan was right in calling him his pet cat.

— Aeons, you're going to give me a heart attack! — you put your hand to your chest in fright before realizing that the sweater you tied is still pressed against it, and you hurriedly crumple it up, stuffing it under your side. — Have you finished your work yet?

— Mmm, not really,— the General almost purrs, burying his nose in the curve of your neck.

— Not really?

— Aren't you glad to see me at all? It would be a shame to celebrate the New Year separately.

You roll your eyes, but gently wrap your arms around your husband's forearm, sighing in resignation.

— Okay, I'll set the table now.

You are about to get out of the warm embrace of Jing Yuan, when Mimi stops you, insistently poking his nose into your thigh, under which lies what you have been hiding from your husband for so long.

— What is it, Mimi? Did you find something? — The General's hands are leaving your shoulders, and you can almost feel cold sweat rolling down your forehead.

Jing Yuan strokes the lion's head, but he completely ignores the owner's touch, continuing to snort and try to seep between your hip and the chair.

— Y/N, are you hiding something from me? — The General squints, smiling playfully and leaning towards your face.

— N-no! I guess I just spilled some cocoa… HEY! — you scream when your husband silently crouches, grabbing your legs and throwing you over his shoulder. You squirm, frantically slapping him on the back when you feel Jing Yuan leaning into the chair. — STOP! Let me go, there's nothing interesting there!

— Really? Then why did you hide it? — The General chuckles softly, and you drop your hands in despair, noticing the sneaky lion sitting behind his master and wagging his tail contentedly. — This is…

— It's not finished yet, — you mutter unhappily, propping your chin with your fist behind your husband's back.

Jing Yuan gently holds you with one hand, with the other unfolding a soft sweater over the seat of the chair. The red threads are intertwined in neat chains, and in the center of the gift there is an embroidered lion, slightly uneven, but seemingly insanely charming to the General.

— Is that Mimi?

— Y-yes… Or what should have been him.

The man gently puts you down on the floor, and you awkwardly look away, feeling embarrassment tingle your cheeks.

— It looks ready, can I try it on?

— I told you… — you started to speak, but stopped, noticing with what trepidation Jing Yuan lifts the sweater from the chair, leaning it against his muscular chest. — Oh… All that remains is to cut the thread.

You take scissors from the table, carefully cutting the red thread, and take the sweater from Jing Yuan's hands while he hurriedly throws off his uniform, presenting himself half naked in front of you and forcing you to frantically squeeze your gift in your hand, checking whether it is too prickly to put it on a bare body.

— Y/N, — Jing Yuan smiles, holding out his hands.

— Okay, okay… — you sigh, finally giving the sweater back.

Your husband carefully pulls on his sweater, smoothing out the bound image of Mimi on his chest. He looks so happy when he looks at the thing that is bound with your own hands, and he can almost feel how your love, care and efforts are woven into these soft threads to see a smile on his face.

— Why only Mimi?" Where is my beloved wife? — The General grins, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer to his warm body.

— A sweater with me wouldn't be so cute, — you giggle, burrowing into Jing Yuan's chest. So softly.

— Who told you that? — your husband's fingertips are placed under your chin, forcing you to look at him. — You are the sweetest woman in the world.

The man's amber eyes sparkle in the soft light of the fireplace, and you can't help but smile, rising on tiptoe to leave a short kiss on the General's cheek.

— Flatterer, do you think this will save you from being punished for ruining the whole surprise?

— I hope so, — The General rubs the tip of his nose against yours, loosely closing his eyes and pressing you closer to his body. — Thank you, my love.

P.S. Mimi's credibility was undermined after this incident!

#headcanons #hsr #hsr x reader #honkai:star rail #honkai:star rail x reader #hsr drabbles #jing yuan #jing yuan x you #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan fluff #fluff #happy new year

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justwearthegoddamncardigan · 1 year

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Hi! Is there any chance you could write a Newt x Female reader they both have a crush on each other but are too scared to admit it so Y/n starts avoiding Newt, then Newt is like concerned, and Minho is all like, "You idiot, can't you tell that she likes you?" And then some sort of cute confession? It's okay if you don't want to write it, though! Thanks!

Hello! This is so cute, thanks for requesting ❤️ Hope you enjoy!

Strawberry Kisses

Newt x fem!reader

Set during tmr (movieverse)

Warnings: language, a single sex joke

"Hey," greets Newt, sliding into the bench beside you.

"Morning," you respond. "Did you tell Fry about the strawberries yesterday?"

"Yep," he says with a grin. "It's perfect. Box'll come up with sugar soon, so we can make jam when they're ripe."

He pushes a bit of bacon onto your plate, because for some inane reason, he hates it.

"Jam?" Minho sits down across from you, ears perked up at the rare sweet.

You laugh a little. "Yeah, the strawberries actually grew properly for once."

You work in the gardens with Newt, and you often work on planting and harvesting the more delicate fruits and plants.

It's a little frustrating sometimes when they don't grow well in the Glade environment, but it's always a huge reward when you get to pick the rare fruits.

When you're done with breakfast, you go off to work with Newt.

And that's where your dilemma begins.

For months, you've managed to keep your feelings under wraps, but your tiny crush has somehow evolved into this huge thing.

It used to be okay. You could pretend your feelings were just trivial, and you could act like there was nothing between you and Newt.

But lately it's been so hard. There's an ache in your chest every time you see him, aching to get closer, to pull him in and kiss that smile.

You've pictured confessing your feelings a thousand times, but you've always been too scared of being rejected.

Which leaves you here.

Maybe it would be better if your jobs weren't so close, but instead you work side by side with him every day.

"Y/n, you alright?"

You startle as you realise you've been staring at him while thinking, and quickly shake yourself out of your thoughts.

"Yeah, 'm fine." You busy yourself with plucking some tomatoes.

As you finish clearing out the low ones, you reach up to grab the ones near the top of the vine.

Newt chuckles as you huff, unable to get to them, and you roll your eyes at his laugh.

"Here, I got 'em."

He steps closer, reaching up over you to pick the high tomatoes, leaving you about eye level with his neck.

You realise the two of you are dangerously close together.

Jesus, pull yourself together Y/n.

He looks up in frustration at the highest ones, clearly unaware of your current inner turmoil.

"We can get the stepladder-" you start, but then he reaches up again, this time stretching up onto his toes to reach.

You stop breathing when he rests a hand on your shoulder for balance.

"Got them," he says with a grin, and when he steps back down you're practically nose to nose.

Your eyes flicker down to his lips.

Shuck.

You take a huge step back, grabbing the basket of tomatoes. "Great, um. I'm gonna take these to Frypan."

"What, now?"

"Yep, now," you turn and powerwalk away, eyes facing straight ahead, not looking back.

⭒----⭒

You lay awake that night, thinking about everything with you and Newt.

This crush is starting to affect your life.

Not just cause of potentially embarrassing situations, but it hurts too, liking someone and not being able to do anything about it.

So you decide to distance yourself a little, give yourself some space to breathe, and maybe get over your crush.

You wake up the next day, practically at sunrise, and get an early breakfast.

It's actually kinda nice.

There aren't that many people up, just Frypan in the kitchens and Minho and Ben preparing for the morning run.

Minho looks up in surprise as he sees you.

"Y/n, you're up early."

"Yeah," you say. "Just- trying out this new thing."

"A waking up early thing?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Yep."

He shrugs. "Alright, good for you I guess."

When you see the other Gladers start to rise, you move into the gardens to start work early.

You watch from a distance as Newt wakes up and goes to the breakfast table.

After a while, he starts looking around a little, seemingly confused.

Is he looking for you?

You give yourself a mental shake, and tear your gaze away from him.

The whole point was to stop thinking about him, for shuck's sake.

You work for a solid ten minutes until a voice rings out behind you.

"Y/n!" Newt walks into the gardens. "Missed you at breakfast."

You nod. "I was here," you say shortly.

"Right. Well, since you weren't there, I had to eat bacon today. Still tastes like salty paper."

He cracks a smile, probably expecting you to jokingly condemn his aversion to bacon, as you normally do.

"You could probably tell Frypan not to give it to you," you say, speaking casually as you force yourself to turn away, facing your back to him.

"I- yeah, I guess."

The silence you usually fill with chatting and laughing stretches uncomfortably.

"Hey, I think Zart wanted someone to clear weeds over there," you say, pointing to a crop across on the other side of the farm.

"Oh, right. I can ask someone else to do that, if you want help here."

"I should be fine," you tell him.

He nods and steps away awkwardly. "Okay, I'll go... do that."

⭒----⭒

The next few days are full of interactions like that.

You avoid him at meals as much as you can, and when you can't, you make sure you're never sitting too near.

Minho's been sandwiched between the two of you on multiple occasions.

You also plan your free time away from his, but you tend to fail at being subtle about it.

When he gets back from his break, you end your shift, feeling his confused and slightly hurt expressions punch you in the gut.

"Y/n." You feel a nudge in your leg under the table.

You look up at Minho, who's looking at you with a thoughtful expression.

You raise your eyebrows. "What is it?"

"Have you been avoiding Newt?"

You shift uncomfortably in your seat. "Of course not, why would you think that?"

"Well, you're here, right now, instead of being with him in the gardens."

"I'm just... on my break. And hey, why can't I see you? We're friends."

"You can see me. And yeah, we're friends. But you spend way more time with me than you do with Newt."

"I get the feeling you're trying to friend-dump me," you say, aiming for levity as Minho strays worryingly close to the truth.

"Y/n." Minho leans forward, looking you in the eye. "You're crushing on Newt so much you literally have to run away and hide in the Runner's hut every single day."

You fumble for words for a second, then give up on hiding it.

"Shuck," you groan. "Am I obvious?"

"Not at all."

"Really?"

"With the way you're acting around him right now, I wouldn't even think the two of you are friends."

You sigh, dropping your face into your hands.

"I just don't know what to do."

"Ask him out," says Minho, like it's obvious.

His grin turns teasing as he continues. "Tell him you love him. Kiss him right on the lips. Take him into a hut and make sweet sweet love to him."

You level Minho with a deadly glare.

He rolls his eyes. "Literally anything but stay in here with me moping over his dumb ass."

You shake your head, standing up. "I'm going back to work."

"Which means Newt's on break now, is he?"

You bite your lip. "He is."

You hear Minho sigh as you leave. "Idiots, both of you."

⭒----⭒

You meet Newt halfway on the way back to the gardens.

"Hey," he says, giving you a smile.

That smile. That smile is probably about half the reason you're doing this whole space and distance thing.

"Hi," you respond.

"I think the strawberries are about ready to be picked. D'you want help? I can come along, if you like?"

"Aren't you on break?" you ask.

"Technically, yes, but-"

"We're meant to stay on schedule," you say, as if he isn't second in command of the glade and also absolutely meticulous about sticking to plans.

He blinks in surprise, and this time he's definitely hurt. Fuck, now you're just being a bitch.

You let out a sigh as he steps back. "Newt, wait. I'm sorry. Just... there's a lot on my mind right now, and I was looking for some alone time." It's a half-truth.

He nods. "It's- it's okay. Go on, if the strawberries are done by today we'll have jam tomorrow."

You send him a weak smile and move to the gardens.

⭒----⭒

As you go to your shift, Newt walks over to the Runner's hut, entering and immediately slumping down into a chair.

"Alright, what's this about then?" asks Minho, as though he doesn't know exactly what's happening.

Newt hesitates. "...have you talked to Y/n recently? Is she alright?"

"She's okay..." says Minho slowly, waiting to hear what Newt says.

Newt looks down at his hands. "She's so distant lately. We never talk. I don't know what happened. Do you think it's something I did?"

"Newt, man, you look like an actual kicked puppy right now. I can't even have fun with this."

Newt frowns. "What are you talking about?"

Minho rolls his eyes. "You're both idiots, seriously. Look, can't you tell she likes you?"

"What?" Newt's eyes jump up to Minho.

"She's been avoiding you cause she likes you, you dumb shank. You're both so blindly in love you can't see that the other likes you back."

"She- she likes me?"

"Just go talk to her, Newt. Put everyone out of their misery."

⭒----⭒

Newt waits for the next day to talk to you.

You're sitting in a secluded clearing, just having a peaceful break as you listen to a small stream trickling nearby.

You turn as you hear footsteps crunching through the grass behind you.

Newt gives you a smile when he sees you, waving and looking slightly... nervous?.

Weird.

"Hi," he says, sitting down beside you. "Frypan told me he's made the jam. Do you... wanna come try it with me?"

You send him a small smile, but shake your head. "Thanks, but I might go later. You can go now though, if you don't want to wait."

"It's alright. Do you want some company?"

The yes is on the tip of your tongue. You just want to lean your head on his shoulder and tell him how you feel.

But what if he doesn't like you back? What is he doesn't even want to be friends after?

You stand, dusting yourself off. "I think I'm just gonna go-"

Newt stands abruptly, catching your hand and tugging you back as you turn to leave.

"No, okay? No. Just please, don't go for once."

"Newt..."

"Listen, I've been... I just- Oh, shuck it."

He pulls you back in and kisses you.

Your eyes flutter closed automatically, and you step closer, feeling his arm tighten around your waist as you kiss back.

You blink your eyes open as he pulls back slowly, and you just blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.

"Did you already have the jam?"

He blinks in surprise, then blushes. "I- yeah, I was at the kitchens just before. ...sorry."

You grin up at him, gliding a hand through his hair. He blush blooms fully, and you decide that it's your life goal to make him blush as much as possible.

"Why would you be sorry? I like strawberries."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. But I didn't really get a good taste..."

He grins at you, and you decide that it's also your life goal to make him smile as much as possible.

"I guess you should have another try then," he says.

You kiss him again, this time harder, letting your tongue sweep past his lips.

"Newt," you say between kisses.

"Mm?"

"Sorry I kept pulling away," you whisper.

He breaks the kiss gently, smoothing his thumb across your cheek and resting his forehead on yours.

"It's okay. I think I get what was happening." He presses another kiss to your lips, this time soft and slow.

"Thank you. I really like you, in case you didn't get that yet."

He smiles against your lips. "I really like you too, Y/n."

I actually made myself smile so much with this fic, especially near the end. It was so fun to write :))

I love these cause Newt x reader with Minho as a supportive bestie is one of my favourite things to write, so thank you anon ❤❤

Also, hope you like strawberries, cause I wrote the first conversation and then just ran with it.

#the maze runner #tmr newt #newt x you #newt x reader #tmr newt x reader #my writing

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startrekfangirl2233-writes · 1 year

Text

Photo Finish

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Description: I don't really have words for this. @desert-fern and I were chatting about Hangman thots. And this spilled out of my brain.

Warnings: This is just porn. Porn with Plot. Consume at your own risk.

Word Count: 6484

A/N: This is dedicated to @desert-fern, @dakotakazansky and @horseshoegirl! Read and enjoy the thots my darlings!

AO3: Cross-posted Here!

It is an unforgiving job, working as a photographer. You'd been all over the world taking pictures for exposes, portraits of world leaders, and scenery. You could name a print material with a portrait on the cover and say you'd taken a picture of that kind.

It's your first time in New York after six months of working on assignment after assignment for your agency when you're called into your boss’s office and ordered to get a studio ready. You're expecting a shot with supermodels or perfumes. Hell, you've even taken photos of cans of dog food. You're not expecting to hear that the client is the U.S. Navy. Not at all.

The U.S. Navy's recruitment numbers have fallen to an all-time low. They're looking for a propaganda vehicle or five to kickstart recruitment. They've ordered a squadron of pilots to fly to New York and have professional portraits taken. It had been decided it was too risky to have civilian photographers on base, so your company had rented a colossal hangar from the airport for one day. The squadron and their jets would land tonight, and the shoot would happen tomorrow. The information has you reeling and more than a little flustered. The U.S. Navy? As a client? That’s huge. This assignment could make or break your whole career. How do you even start? This shoot is on an awfully quick turnaround for something so big.

Your mind is spinning, thinking of how you could make these spreads work. To begin your prep work, you go to your office, collecting your assistant, stylists, makeup artist, and lighting coordinators. Once everyone is clustered around your office, you fire up your computer and display pictures of each aviator. The Navy has selected six aviators for this spread; they’re all gorgeous. And per the sanitized dossiers you hand out to your team to read, each has risked their lives to serve their country. Of the five men on the dossiers, one keeps catching your attention. His name is Jake, Jake Seresin, and his eyes pierce into you even through the low-quality picture you’ve been given.

“Alright. So how do we do this? The Navy asked for shots of each aviator and their plane in flight suits and uniforms. We’ll have all four jets in the hangar with us tomorrow. Additionally, I want to explore who they are as people. So I think we’ll also do shots of them in formal wear. As a last step, we’ll tie into their sex appeal and do shots of the boys in their flight jackets and dog tags with no shirts. For Lieutenant Trace, I thought we could explore the duality she naturally poses as a highly decorated female Naval Aviator. How does that sound? Any ideas for how we can accomplish that? Start pulling pieces on racks in the bullpen. I want to do a final review of all of the options at 4 o’clock.”

Your stylists, Adam and Lea, are already huddled up and discussing pieces to pull for the formal wear shoot. You can see an unholy gleam in Lea’s eyes as she finds pieces for Lieutenant Trace to wear for the sex appeal shot on her tablet. You grin at their enthusiasm before turning to your lighting techs.

“Seb, Kris. I want you both to head out to the hangar today. I don’t know what the lighting is going to look like. Feel free to start setting up the lighting for the shoot tomorrow. But don’t lock anything down. We’re going to have to share our space with the planes.”

You turn to your assistant, Amy.

“Ames, go with them. Get an idea of the space we have to deal with. Measurements would be useful. Start visualizing areas where we could lay out a backdrop to do a set of pics without the planes in the background. Scope out everything — the facilities, where we could set up changing booths, a refreshments table, etc. We’ll also probably need to coordinate deliveries from the usual food platters and drinks places. Get an assortment of things that would apply to any dietary restrictions you can think of.”

With that, you turn to the last member of your team, your makeup artist.

“Hey, Katie. We will want to keep the makeup for this shoot subtle and touch up any blemishes and under-eye circles. That should be it for the boys, but we’ll want to do something eye-catching for the formal wear portion for Lieutenant Trace. So pack accordingly. Go ahead if you want, and head to the hangar with Ames so you can coordinate placement for the makeup station.”

You call your team to attention by ringing the small gong on your desk.

“We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us today. Call me for anything you need. This shoot is important for the studio, and we will have many eyes on us. Here are the credentials for the hangar. Measurements for the aviators are included in the dossier packets. For the formal wear portion of the shoot, pick coordinating colors except for Lieutenant Trace. Good luck!”

The rest of your morning is spent coordinating with the Navy Liasion. During your lunch break, you head to the hangar and help your team as they work there. You pick up sandwiches and drinks for everyone and drop some off for Adam and Lea. You reach the hangar at 1:30 and use your credentials to let yourself in. Unsurprisingly, the hangar is a hive of activity. Amy’s marking down placement points near the bathrooms with a measuring tape, and Katie’s getting a vanity plugged in and organizing her equipment.

Meanwhile, Seb and Kris are testing the lighting. A large swath of the Hangar floor is as yet empty. A clear path has been left from the hangar doors to the open area. The open area is where four F/A-18A Super Hornets are going to sit. You call your team to grab their lunches and catch up with Amy on her progress. It’s your first time delegating so much of the admin work to Amy since she’s the newest on the team, and you’re ecstatic with her progress.

She’s gotten everything organized, including the food and beverage deliveries. When a pair of workmen back in a truck containing the backdrop and the changing rooms, you supervise as they build them and place them where you want them. They’ve just started assembling the backdrop when your phone rings. You step into the afternoon sunshine to take the call. It’s the Navy Liasion. He’s calling to inform you that the squadron will be landing shortly. Sure enough, you can just hear the engines as you hang up and bolt indoors. Amy’s just sending the workmen on their way as you help your team clear the open areas of the hangar and stand near the open hangar door.

You can feel the thrum of the engines as Four F/A-18As fly in formation and finally land in all their glory. They’re beautiful machines. You can smell the stink of the jet fuel and feel the heat from the engines as they roll into the hangar. The next moments are full of frantic activity as the flight crews help ensure the jets are safely landed. Once all the furor has died down, you finally reach where the aviators have descended from their jets. They’re examining your team's work with eagle eyes that dart to your person as you step closer, your heels echoing as you make your way to the jets.

They’re even more gorgeous than their pictures indicated, even sweaty with helmet hair as they are. As one, they line up in front of you and salute, introducing themselves with their rank, full name, and callsign. You can hear Amy and Katie’s giggles from behind you as you introduce yourself and your team. The entire time you lay out the plan for the following day, you can feel a set of eyes boring into the side of your face. All the aviators are staring right at you, but Lieutenant Seresin makes you feel like squirming. His green eyes stay on you as you show them the different areas in the hangar and explain the order of the day. Thankfully, they leave the hangar shortly after you tell them their call time for the next morning.

A couple of hours later, everything is ready to go, thanks to Amy, Seb, Kris, and Katie. The corner near the bathroom has two changing rooms set up. Nearby are spaces for the racks of clothing and the makeup station. It will be perfect for the photoshoot you have in mind. The concrete floors are a little chilly, so you text Lea and ask her to add some of the rugs from storage to the truck. You send her a snap of the current layout so she and Adam know what they’re walking into the following morning. You know she and Adam will pick something that complements the gunmetal gray of the planes and the clothing they’re selecting. Before long, you and your team are packed into the back of two Ubers and heading back to the studio for the final part of your day, evaluating the clothing Adam and Lea have picked.

You’re satisfied as you head home that night. Your team has done an amazing job, and the only thing you have to do is pack your cameras and lenses. You carefully wipe and pack each lens and each camera, working as quickly as possible since you have to be at the hangar with an early 6 AM call time. Amy’s picking up the coffee and breakfast deliveries at 7, and the Squadron will show up at 8 AM sharp.

When your alarm goes off at half past four the next morning, you feel barely rested. Your hair is a bird’s nest atop your head, and your eye bags could put a raccoon to shame. But you’ve got a busy day ahead of you, so you gulp a scalding cup of coffee and walk zombie-like into your shower. Forty-five minutes later, you’re dressed in a smart blouse and pencil skirt with heels on your feet and bleary but ready to face the day. You’ve thrown your hair into a French braid snaking down your back and left your makeup and jewelry simple to avoid causing unforeseen sparkles and shadows when Kris and Seb turn the lights on.

Your team has just reached the hangar when you step in. All the lights are on in the early morning haze, and you’re immediately swept up in the preparations. It’s like you’re needed everywhere. You only get fifteen minutes to lay out your camera equipment and hook up the cameras to your laptop before you’re pulled into last-minute adjustment after last-minute adjustment. It feels like barely any time has passed when the aviators swagger through the open hangar door. They’re dressed in khaki uniforms, each holding a hanger with a leather flight jacket.

Adam and Lea direct them to leave their garment bags on an open rack, and you’re off to the races. You start with individual shots of each aviator with their plane and then against the backdrop. You’ve cued up a playlist of Top-40 hits, and you can’t help humming along as you snap away. As expected, it takes a bit for the aviators to warm up to being photographed. Two, Lieutenants Bradshaw and Seresin, take to posing for the camera like a fish out of water. Lieutenant Fitch follows shortly after them. Then all you needed to get Fanboy to cut loose was get him talking about his favorite tv show. You don’t mind the onslaught of Star Trek facts and figures because Lieutenant Mickey Garcia is adorable once you get him smiling and dancing to the songs playing.

That leaves you with Lieutenants Trace and Floyd. Lieutenant Floyd goes next, and the first thing he does when he sees you holding the camera is blush. The bashful look on his face makes a soft squeal slip out of Amy’s mouth, and you side-eye your assistant with your fiercest glare to get her to chill out. Thankfully, Lea drags her away to help with some of the clothing. There’s no need to make the sweetheart even more uncomfortable. Much like Lieutenant Garcia, you try to get him talking. And it works, at least until Lieutenant Seresin opens his mouth and says,

“C’mon, Baby On Board. A pretty girl’s taking your picture, and you can’t even smile? This is a once-in-a-lifetime experience, at least for you. You should enjoy it while it lasts.”

You can feel your blood pressure rising at how rude he is and are about to open your mouth to tell him to get out of your field of vision when Lieutenant Floyd does it himself.

“Why, Bagman? Are you afraid that if I start posing for real, all the girls will dump you as fast as possible for me instead?”

You have to stifle your giggles as Lieutenant Seresin blinks wide-eyed at Lieutenant Floyd before walking away.

“That’s a great idea, Bob!” Lieutenant Trace is never one to leave an opportunity to cheer on her WSO.

That’s what breaks the ice between you and Lieutenant Floyd. You feel his solo plane shots have turned out better than the others. The final aviator in uniform to photograph is Lieutenant Trace. But no matter what you do, you can’t get her to loosen up.

“Alright, everyone. Let’s take fifteen. Adam and Lea, can you get the Lieutenants in their formal wear while I finish up with Lieutenant Trace?”

That clears the gentlemen away and leaves you and Lieutenant Trace by the planes. That’s when you finally see a fraction of the tension she holds in her shoulders drain away. She’s still standing stiffly but no longer in full parade rest. You turn the music up, put on ABBA, and pray that the music finally gets her to unwind. It takes a bit, and Lieutenant Bradshaw, now wearing a navy blue tuxedo, wiggling his hips to the beat but unwind she does. He gives you a wink before shimmying away. You can see the rest of your team laughing as the aviators pull out their silliest dance moves.

After finishing up Lieutenant Trace’s final uniform pictures, you leave her in Lea and Katie’s capable hands and start taking the solo shots of the men. They’re all dressed in navy blue tuxedos with white shirts and shiny black dress shoes. There isn’t a tie in sight, and the jackets are perfectly tailored to their figures. You can’t help the impressed looks you give them and mentally note to compliment Lea and Adam later. Everything is going well until you start to see slack-jawed looks where the lieutenants had been smoldering into the camera. You turn and grin satisfactorily as Lieutenant Trace steps forward. Lea had selected a gorgeous crimson and burgundy gown, and Katie had chosen to leave her hair in loose curls. You’re not surprised at the boys’ awe. She looks breathtaking and like her callsign in all its fiery glory. The contrasting color combinations as she joins the boys look fantastic in the pictures.

The final set of pictures happens after a lunch break. The gentlemen are only too eager to slip off their shirts, though you can hear Bob pleading with Lea to spare him. You wish him luck, as you know from experience that Lea’s not one to give in easily. The only other aviator who looks discomfited is Lieutenant Trace. You pull her aside.

"Lt. Trace. How would you feel about doing a shot wearing just one of the men's jackets, some heels, and jewelry? You don’t have to wear one that one of the guys has worn today. Lea and Adam brought plenty of spares."

"Please, call me Natasha. And no. I'm not doing that."

"Natasha, I have a feeling I know why, but would you tell me?" Her shoulders surround her ears as you try to reason with her.

"I'm not going to wear that just to act as the sole piece of eye candy in this group. I got here by working just as hard, if not harder, than all of them. I won't negate all my hard work with a pin-up pose on Navy propaganda."

"Thank you for telling me that. I'm not going to pressure you into doing this. But, I would like to bring one item to your consideration. You think taking a picture like this will negate your hard work. Doesn't that negate your inherent sense of femininity? You're a fighter pilot. Yes. One of the best of the best. But you're also a woman. And to me, that's one of your biggest strengths. Girls walking into Navy recruitment offices deserve to know they can be kick-ass officers and beautiful too.”

You take a breath, cataloging the emotions flitting across her face.

“I'm not asking you to do this shot because you're beautiful. As we both know, you are. I'm asking you to do this shot to show the world that you can be one of the best and still be feminine. Be strong and delicate. Sweet and savage. I want you to show the world that serving your country doesn't mean you have to only act like men. Women can serve and do everything that a man can without compromising anything. Be it their looks, their career, or their femininity."

Your words have resonated with her. You can see the figurative light bulb go off in her head as she resolutely nods, gathers up the skirts of her gown, and walks right towards Lea like a woman possessed. You grin and proceed with taking shots of the others. But this time, it’s Lieutenant Seresin that you’re having problems with. He’s stiff like his charm has melted away. You switch to the others and finish their shots easily. Even Natasha stuns in just the oversized blazer. You take a break and review the pictures on your laptop. They’re all perfect. You’ll need a day or so to clean up any small defects, but other than that, they’re exactly what you were looking for. The Navy will be pleased with the results, you hope.

You just need this one set of pictures from Lieutenant Jake Seresin, callsign Hangman, and you can finally go home and take off your heels and bra. Your irritation grows as you attempt to take the pictures you need five times. Your groan of exhaustion and irritation is far longer and louder than it should be. That’s when you start dismissing your team and the Daggers.

“Head on out, all of you. We have to clean up the hangar by the day after tomorrow when the Daggers leave. I will finish up these photos with Lieutenant Seresin, and we should be following you shortly.”

The Daggers all scramble to change, and it's less than half an hour later when you say farewell as the Daggers and your team file out the Hangar door and close it behind them. That’s when you’re left alone with the one man who’s been driving you crazy all day. You try, futilely, to get him to pose how you want, but no matter what you say and how you move him, the pictures don't turn out like you want them to.

Partway through the latter half of the photo shoot, you'd switched to having all of the Daggers standing against the backdrop. You're regretting that decision now.

You're done, and the blonde idiot is just standing there and smirking at you. In the studio light, you can see every ridge of his abs and the downy hair dotting his torso. You kick your heels off and let your hair out of its braid. After so long in the tight braid, it feels great to let your scalp relax.

You stalk up to Lieutenant Seresin and grab hold of his arm.

"Right. Let's make this easy on both of us. I will position you how I want you, and you won't move. Okay?"

"Darlin', just tell me to jump, and I'll ask you how high."

And now he's trying to flirt with you. Great. You roll your eyes and position his head and arms as you want him. This close, you can smell his cologne, the cedar and plum scent wafting from his skin. It's an expensive scent that is ever so inconsistent with his personality. Thankfully he doesn't fight you as you position him.

You could cry. You're so relieved. You are finally getting the needed pictures, and Lieutenant Seresin is cooperating. His eyes still track you as you stalk barefoot back and forth from the laptop to the lights, all with your camera in tow as you make small adjustments. But you don't feel their weight as self-consciously anymore.

In the final pose, you press on his stomach to get him to straighten his back, and your entire world seems to freeze. His abs are taut, the light dusting of hair soft against your fingers as you glance up at his face. His lips are bitten red as his eyes peer into you. It's electric being this close to him. Something is yearning in his eyes when you step away and take the final pictures.

Your face is hot as you walk back to the table with your laptop and examine the pictures. You're exhausted, but you've finally done it. Of all the pictures, Lieutenant Seresin's looks the best. His photos exhibit strength, passion, and raw sexuality, exposing a stripe of his taut torso and dog tags.

"Damn, darlin'. I knew you were a good photographer when I looked up your work before we flew to New York for this, but I had no idea how good you were. These pictures. They're something else."

You startle at his voice, emanating from near your ear, and jolt out of your seat. You nearly fall, but he catches you, steadying you with an arm wrapped around your waist. You gulp as you’re pressed against his chest. He's so close that you can count the flecks of gold swimming in his green eyes. You can't keep your gaze from trailing over his face, from his eyes down to his lips, and back up again.

"Sweetheart, tell me if I'm reading you wrong, but it looks like you want to kiss me. And I know I want to kiss you. I have since I saw you for the first time yesterday."

You can't keep yourself from nodding at his words. But he's watching you like a hawk and catches your movements. So it's hardly a surprise when he trails his other hand up your side and pinches your chin before slanting his mouth over yours.

He kisses as he flies, you think. Precise and pointed, each brush of his tongue against your calculated to make your cunt clench and throb with need. You're wet, embarrassingly so. He doesn't pull away until your lips are swollen from the rough kiss.

Your chest heaves as he traces his finger across your lips. He's got a smug smirk on his face. You pull away from him, carefully selecting your video camera from all your camera equipment, and return to his plane. You turn on the lights, dimming them until there is just enough light to throw the area in the jet's shadow in relief in your camera, hit record, and beckon him to come to you.

"Lieutenant, it's been a bit since I've had some fun. What would you say if I suggest we make a movie?"

His grin is salacious as he lets the leather jacket fall to the ground and tugs you back into his arms.

"Baby, it'd be my pleasure."

Your answering laugh transforms into a moan as he kisses roughly down your throat, paying special attention to your pulse point. His talented hands trail up and down your waist, nimble hands rucking your blouse up from your skirt until he can finally touch your bare skin. Your moans as he traces patterns across your ribs are muffled in his kiss.

"Jake."

Your voice is breathy and high as you try to get his mouth back on yours. But when you look at his face, something is commanding in his gaze.

"Take your shirt off, baby. Let me see what you're wearing."

You tug your shirt off, thankful there aren't any buttons or ties to impede your progress. Jake’s groan at the sight of the lace covering your breasts sends goose bumps over your skin.

His voice is reverent as he walks around you.

"God, baby. You killed me this morning. Wearing that pretty little skirt and those high heels. I wanted to bend you over and fuck you until you were leaking my cum."

He stops before you, pressing his thumb between your parted lips. He dips it in until it's wet with your pooling saliva and drags it down your throat. His finger drags over the soft flesh of your breasts, leaving a cool, damp trail as he pays special attention to the peaks of your nipples.

He continues walking, stopping at your back and dragging you in until your back is flush against his chest. He positions you with both hands until you're centered with the camera. He keeps up a filthy litany of praise as he carefully uses his thumbs to drag your bra cups down, sending your tits spilling free. His hands immediately find their way to fondle and caress them, calloused fingers kneading and squeezing until your hips are canting unconsciously, searching for additional stimulation.

His smile is filthy when he finally pulls you away, intertwining your fingers with his and leading you to his plane.

"Put your hands on my plane, baby. And whatever you do, don't take them off."

You can't resist your soft moan as you do exactly what he says after unfastening your bra. You can't see his face, but you can feel his lips in the hollow behind your ear as he grinds his stiff cock against your ass.

"Stay there, baby. Gonna take these trousers off so you don't get in trouble if we make a mess."

Your nipples are pebbled in the cool air as you wait for Jake to return to you. You can hear the clink of the belt buckle and the rustle of fabric as he drags the garment off before padding back to you. His hands trail teasingly over your sensitive skin as he brackets your waist. His thumbs rub soothingly at your waist as he peppers kisses across your bare shoulders. Jake then carefully drags the zip at the back of your skirt down and eases it off your hips.

It pools to the ground at your feet, and you shudder at the feeling of his hand on your ass as he collects it and sets it on a chair in your line of sight. He's gorgeous. You can see every line of his muscles and the bulge of his erect cock in his boxers. The only thing you're wearing now is your thong. He slides the flimsy lace off, and that's when you feel his breath across your hole.

"Oh, baby. You're so wet. Wet for your Lieutenant, huh?"

He blows a stream of air over you, and you can feel your hole clench at the sensations.

"What do you want me to do to you, baby? How do you want to cum? On my tongue? On my fingers? On my cock? You gotta tell me, sweetheart."

Your voice is breathy as you babble, "All of them, Jake! I want your tongue, your fingers, and your cock. It's been so long since I came. Please!"

He kisses your shoulder before kneeling and burying his tongue between your thighs. Each brush has you practically sobbing with pleasure. It's been so long since you came that it's only a few minutes before his tongue brings you to the brink of your orgasm. You're already chanting his name, your moans echoing through the hangar.

"Cum," he growls, his mouth still sealed to your cunt, and you're only too happy to comply, your hands scrabbling for something to squeeze on as you ride out the waves of your orgasm on his tongue.

He pulls away after a few minutes and turns you around. His mouth is on you instantly, nipping at your breasts before he kisses you hard. You can feel how hard he is against your thigh as you sink to your knees and free him from the constricting fabric.

It's only fair that you return the favor. So you start with kitten licks flicking across the head of his cock. Each tender pass of your tongue has him moaning. It's not long before his hands find their way into your hair, holding the loose strands in a ponytail at the back of your head. You use the extra leverage to begin deep-throating him in earnest. You use as much suction and saliva as possible, moaning wantonly as he fucks your mouth. His pants and grunts send heat pooling into your cunt as he approaches his orgasm. But before you can convince him to come on your tongue, he jerks himself off over your tits, spurting his release over your skin in hot thick ribbons.

There is a feral look in his eyes at the sight of you like that on your knees, and Jake lopes over to your cameras, carefully grabbing one. He drapes his dog tags around your neck and carefully snaps pictures of the pearl necklace he'd given you. He lays the camera onto the chair before coming back to you.

"Do you still want me to fuck you?"

"Yes." Your consent is less words and more a cock-drunk mewl, but Jake interprets it correctly.

"Can you get on all fours for me?"

You're only too eager to comply, positioning yourself under his eager hands as he takes his spot against your ass.

"I don't have any condoms, baby. How do you want to do this?"

"I'm on the pill, Jake. Please, fuck me. Fuck me raw."

He groans before pressing himself inside you. The slow drag of his big cock as it presses into you has your pulse racing. Jake keeps the pace purposefully slow, using his hands at your hips to hold you still as he deliberately fucks into you. It's so good that each press has you screaming, and you've long since reached the cliff of your orgasm. But what Jake's giving you just isn't enough. That's when you start wiggling your hips to meet his thrusts.

The first heavy smack of his palm against your ass has you freezing completely, caught in the pain-pleasure-pain sensation his hand is wringing out of you. The second has you moaning, your pussy fluttering around his length. His groan is near musical as he continues to smack your ass. Each smack brings you closer to your orgasm, and you're practically begging for it now. You wail when he begins to fuck you again in earnest. His balls smack against the hot skin of your ass as you finally let yourself cum.

Your orgasm is so strong and intense that you black out. When you come to, you're cradled against Jake's chest, his hand tracing lazily over your back. You're both still under his jet. You prop yourself up on his chest with shaking arms and groan at the sensation of cum dripping out of you. It’s several long moments before you rise carefully on wobbly legs. But the sight you see when standing has your cunt clenching in need again. Jake’s torso is now covered in droplets of the mixture of both of your cum. You grab your camera and take a picture of that too.

Jake grins as he collects the bundle of your clothes and follows behind you to the bathroom. You can’t help the gasp leaving your lips as you see yourself in the mirror. He’s marked up your decolletage, and now is when you can feel the painful sting in your ass.

“God, baby. Let me take a picture of your ass? It looks beautiful. You can see my whole hand on it.”

You groan as he presses a kiss against the sore cheek before positioning you and taking the pic. All you can see is the globe of your ass, the handprint, and the cascade of your hair down your back.

“Are you sure you didn’t pick the wrong calling, Jake? You could’ve been a fantastic photographer if you’d chosen to.”

“Oh, I’m sure, darlin’. I love flying too much to regret my decision. And flying brought me to you.”

You grin before beginning to clean yourself up. Jake can’t resist kissing you, and you can’t resist kissing him back, either. Before long, you’re all clean and dressed in your underwear, blouse, and skirt again. Jake even has your shoes and chivalrously kneels to slide them onto your feet. He’s back in his trousers, this time sans the leather jacket. You can’t resist trailing your fingers across his skin and wrapping your arms around his neck as you kiss him. But you have to break away from him. You only add to his current look by slinging his dog tags around his neck.

Back in the hangar, you’re packing up your cameras after ensuring your home movie is saved when the door to the hangar opens. It’s a security guard, and you’re glad he didn’t pop in earlier.

“Hello, miss. I just wanted to check in and make sure everything is alright.”

“Yes, everything is fine, officer. I just finished a photo shoot with my last client, and we’ll leave shortly.”

"Alright, miss. We have to restrict access to the hangar at 11 pm. It's about 9:30 now, so finish up and head on your way."

You can hear Jake opening the curtain to the changing room behind you and can see the Officer's position stiffen as he catches sight of the medals on his breast.

"Sir, apologies, I wasn't aware that the client she mentioned was military."

He's falling over himself, and you can see the smug smirk on Jake's face as he grins and walks the officer out. You can't help grinning as you finish packing your lenses and begin unplugging your laptop after saving all the footage you’d captured today. You know Jake is back when you feel an arm wrap around your waist. You lean easily back into his expensive-smelling embrace and can't resist sagging against him for a few moments.

"It's been a long day, huh, darlin'?" He presses a kiss against your jaw. "Let's get you packed up and home."

You smile at the new, softer side of him and kiss his jaw.

"I'm all packed up. Walk me to my car?"

"'Course, sugar. Give me your camera bag. D'you need to check on anything else before we head out?"

You pad over to all the electrical outlets, hitting the switches on power strips to ensure nothing is still on. The final place you check via phone flashlight is the area under Jake's jet. You're wearing all of your clothing. You just want to make sure you haven't made a mess with your extracurricular activities.

"I cleaned it all up already, baby. It was when you were knocked out after your orgasm."

You startle, having grown used to his presence over the past few hours.

"Then let's head out?"

You relinquish your camera bag to him, keeping your oversized tote on your shoulder as the two of you stride out of the hangar. You lead him to the small parking lot to the side and pop the trunk for your car, thankful you'd decided to drive to the airfield.

"Let me give you a ride to your hotel. It's the least I can do after keeping you so late."

"Darlin', I should be thanking you. I haven't cum like that in a long time."

You've seen the man completely naked and writhed in pleasure at his touch. You shouldn't be so flustered in his presence. But you can't explain the catch in your breath as he opens the driver's side door for you before loping around to the passenger side and settling in. Everything between you and Jake doesn't feel like the aftermath of a hot frantic sexual encounter. It feels like a date. You feel light and easy as you cruise back into the city. The silence between the two of you is comfortable. It’s not long before you drop him off in front of his hotel. He presses a kiss against your lips before swaggering in. And you head home to your small New York apartment, feeling the ghost of his presence as you go.

The next morning, you’re glad you chose to work from home because the first pictures you edit are the ones you’d taken of Jake and the ones he’d taken of you as well as your home movie. You can’t resist fingering yourself as your moans and his grunts spill out of your computer speakers. You don't have to do much editing there, but you carefully load the incriminating footage onto two flash drives — one for you and one for him. The photos for the Navy, too, are edited in no time flat.

It's in the afternoon when you head into the studio. When you get in, you're surprised to see all the Daggers, your boss, your team, and two Admirals waiting for you. Your boss runs the show, introducing and greeting them before the floor is ceded to you. You show the assembled guests the pictures you'd taken for the Navy.

The pictures are well received, especially the photos of Lieutenant Trace. You wink cheekily at her as Admirals Simpson and Mitchell praise the juxtaposition of those shots. As you show the last picture, you can finally breathe. Your boss is proud, especially as the Admirals turn to her and approve the pictures. But you have one final set of pictures to deliver.

"Lieutenant Seresin, apologies. I found this in my bag this morning. It was lying in the changing room when I looked through it to ensure everyone had taken their things. It must've fallen out of the pocket of your flight jacket."

His smirk is salacious as he accepts the flash drive from your hand, apologizing for leaving it there. You hand him a note, too, and leave the room. You would pay to see the look on his face when he sees what you’ve written on it.

Jake - Thanks for last night. Call me the next time you're in New York. I'd love to do it again. It certainly was a photo finish. XXX - XXX - XXXX

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

Taglist:

@desert-fern 🎥 @dakotakazansky 🎥 @bobby-r2d2-floyd 🎥 @roosters-girl 🎥 @sarahsmi13s 🎥 @bradleybeachbabe 🎥 @lovinglyeternal 🎥 @roosterforme 🎥 @horseshoegirl 🎥

#star writes #top gun fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun maverick fanfiction #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #photographer reader #pwp #top gun imagine #top gun smut #jake hangman imagine #hangman smut #hangman fanfiction #hangman seresin #controlled chaos squad

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tillthelandslide · 2 months

Text

Same For You (14) : Can't Get Enough

Series Masterlist

(13) Take Me Higher

A/n: a huge thank you to my love @achangeofheartx ilysm, thank you for reading this for me, i miss you. Heads up everyone, its a long one and im not entirely sure when the next part will be out so enjoy this for a while hehe. Love you all - Lou

The Uber drops her off at Matty's house 15 minutes later. She had texted him a few times and tried to call him but didn't get a reply. She thinks maybe he's fallen asleep but her worry had truly started to set in so she had to at least try to see if he was okay. It was unlike Matty to leave through a session, sure they were nearly done but he was usually the last to leave and if he did he never left without saying goodbye and a hug or two. She politely knocks on the door twice, waiting for some kind of sound from inside. She can hear a low mumbling sound so she knocks again, hoping he’d be close enough to hear her now. The house falls silent for a few moments before she hears shuffling again. Her hand finds the door and she knocks once more, deciding if he didn't answer this time she'd give in and head home.

She hears someone swear inside and a few moments later someone is fumbling with the door handle. Inch by inch she sees him and her throat dries. Her eyes rake slowly down his form but to him it’s quicker than a blink of an eye, he still notices though, and if he was in his usual ‘Matty state of mind’: the Matty that fancies her like mad and whose heart would pick up with so much as a single look from her; he’d smirk. He stands before her, his hair a mess on top of his head, trousers undone and hardly on, a clear sign he had just put them on. He is shirtless and he looks a mess. But not an 'im sick and you've just woke me up" kind of a look, but a "you've just caught me after I've been fucking" kind of look.

One tell-tell sign is the red lipstick stains covering his neck. She immediately takes a step back, distancing herself from him. Her chest constricts, her throat dries, she swallows but that doesn’t help, she looks him up and down again, attempting to see this from a new angle, one in which doesn’t make her feel this way. She hates this, she hates that she stands there with a mouth opening and shutting like a fish out of water, she hates that it's him standing there, topless and looking like that. More than anything she hates how she finds herself feeling jealous, all whilst she can still feel the ghost of another man’s lips on her skin - on her lips. Her eyes fall to his lips and they move, he speaks. His voice is sudden and it has her stepping back more.

Walls back up but they’re weak but at least they’re there, whether they protect her at all is yet to be seen. She tries to push down the sicky feeling that makes its way into her stomach and the sudden nausea she feels is off putting.

"Y/n…" his voice trails off and he looks like a deer caught in the headlights. She hears a noise coming from further in the house and her eyes flick towards it, hearing a woman speak before she sees her. A high pitch and entirely fake "babe, come back to bed" before she sees a blond girl wearing his shirt and a pair of panties standing at the middle of his stairs. She steps back again, another step back, more distance, it doesn’t stop the pain in her chest and it definitely does not stop her feeling sick.

"Y/n wait!!!" He says, she turns and starts walking down the street. She doesn't look back but he follows. He watches her chest as she walks, rising and falling rapidly, he hates it.

"Wait, I can explain!" Matty shouts, despite jogging alongside her now.

"Matty it's fine you don't have to explain… it's pretty obvious what's going on" she says her voice is slightly snappy and she scolds herself for sounding like that. He stops her with a hand to her shoulder.

"You can't seriously be annoyed?" He asks and she sighs. She closes her eyes for a second or two before they’re opening. Glazed and glistening orbs finding his.

"I'm not annoyed Matty" she doesn’t sound like her and Matty really doesn’t like that. It feels odd, like he’s talking to a version of her that he doesn’t know, it feels formal and way too unfamiliar.

"Tell that to your face" his eyes flick around her features, despising the way his heart picks up as he looks at her.

“Go home Matty, you’ll freeze out here” she says, stepping back again until his hand falls from her shoulder.

“Y/n talk to me please”

"Sorry, George told us you weren't feeling well so I thought I'd come check on you but it's fine… I see you're preoccupied" her eyes flick back down the street to where his door can just about be seen.

"You're so annoyed" he says with a smirk, taking a step back, running a hand through his hair cockily. He can’t deny that he enjoys the fact he’s gotten under her skin and how she's trying to hide it but failing miserably.

"I was worried about you Matty! I thought you were sick! So I come to check on you only to find out you're not sick at all" she laughs "actually you're so ‘unsick’ that you're fucking some girl' she says, she looks away from him but he turns her face back to look at him. She cringes at how jealous she sounds.

"Y/n you were with Ross…." He says and she freezes. Shit… he heard. She's silent.

"You were with Ross… you are with Ross" he raises his hands in the air before they fall to his sides. His chest matches hers now, rising and falling harshly but in tandem with one another.

"Me and Ross… we're not… with each other" Matty rolls his eyes. He takes a step towards her and she takes one back, needing the distance.

"But you want to be and so does he"

"Matty we can't… we work together" she lies again and she hates that she does. She hates that she can't seem to tell him the truth.

"I wish you wouldn't lie to me… and stop! Stop saying that! Just be an adult and admit you want to be with him… it would save a lot of trouble"

"What's that supposed to mean?" She asks, raising her voice slightly.

"It means… maybe if you'd grow up a little and admit you like him that it would save us all a lot of time" he says, venom laced in his words. Their age gap was something that both of them agreed was something trivial, a fact that didn't really matter. But now he's bringing it up and using it to spite her. And it's horrible.

"Fuck you Matty' she spits back, turning and walking away from him again. He catches her quickly, pushing against her until her back is against the wall of a building. One hand rests against the brick next to her hand whilst the other anchors her to him with a firm grip on her hip. She’s breathless.

"Tell me you don't want Ross… tell me and I'll go tell that girl to fuck off…" he says, his hand moves to her waist and it feels electric - it feels like fire and ice combined. It burns against her skin and she has to close her eyes to push the feeling away. She can’t keep them closed for too long though, not wanting to miss a single moment.

"Matty…" she opens her eyes, she can feel him against her, really feel him. His chest against hers, soft but toned, so close that she can feel his erratic heartbeat against her chest. She can feel their breath combining, beginning to move in tandem, riding and falling together, against each other.

"I know you feel something here" one gentle hand presses against her chest between them, right over her heart.

"Matty stop" she clamps her eyes shut again, making him disappear. But the feelings she's been trying so hard to push away don't disappear either. And she hates that.

"Say it" he leans in closer, so much closer. She can feel his lips graze hers. She wants to move away from him, but that would make her seem bothered by his movements.

“Tell me you don't want me too” she feels his words against her lips. It's a featherlight touch, a graze, a barely-there connection but she feels it in her soul.

She breathes a heavy breath before her eyes flutter open, they cover his face, landing on his lips and one of her hands comes to rest against his cheek, soothing over the stubble covered skin. He watches as her eyes gloss over slightly, before she's whispering the two words that he has to pretend don't completely derail his world.

"I can't"

“Doesn’t mean you don’t want to” he says, begging her one last time, to change her mind, to tell him what he wants to hear, what he so desperately wants her to say.

“I can't” she repeats.

"Exactly" he pulls away and starts walking back to his house again.

"Matty! Wait" she says, halting him, he turns again. She wants to say that she does want Ross but she wants him too. But she can't.

"Whether you admit it or not.. Ross likes you and you were with him. I heard you… so as long as you keep denying how you feel… I'm going to go back up to my house" he says, pointing behind him "and I'm going to be with someone who can actually admit they want me" he walks two steps before he turns again.

"And preferably someone who doesn't also like my best friend" he leaves her standing there breathless and speechless.

She walks home in an attempt to clear her head, but Matty's words keep ringing around her mind. It makes her heartbeat quicken and she finds herself walking twice as quickly.

She showers - a long, hot shower and another attempt to rid the thoughts from her mind. It fails. She tries to sleep but she can't. She tosses and turns, getting more tired by the minute but still failing to sleep. She hates that he was right. She hates that once again he saw straight through her. She hates herself even more for the whole ordeal… for falling for someone so quickly and even more so for the feelings she bore towards Matty.

She almost wishes she never met them, it would make things easier, she wouldn't have come in and fucked up both their lives.

But selfishly (or not so, knowing they'd feel the same) she knows this, complicated and kind of fucked up situation is a thousand times better than not having them in her life.

She hates that she can’t stop thinking about his words, about that girl standing at the top of his stairs. She was nothing like that girl… is that why he picked her? To distract himself with something different, someone different. Someone who wasn't her. She feels her eyes flutter and she thinks she might, finally, fall asleep. But then her phone is blaring on her nightstand and she reaches far too quickly to retrieve it.

“Hi” she says sadly, knowing who was calling.

“Hi…” he says, his voice is quiet and unsure.

“I was trying to sleep… trying so goddamn hard to not call you… but I made a promise” he explains and she sighs.

“Maybe you should've broken it” her voice sounds bitter and she hates it. She hates that she's mad at him, because she doesn't really have the right. She brought this all in herself.

“Y/n/n…” his voice trails off, she hears the flick of his lighter and the soft exhale. She imagines the smoke piling out between his lips and once again she has to close her eyes to get the image out of her mind.

She feels her breath quicken, her eyes water and her lip shakes.

“Matty” his name slips out, the word wavering. He immediately knows she's crying and his heart twists in chest, as if someone's thrust a hand through the skin, grabbed hold and squeezed with all their strength.

“Do you not understand how hard this is for me?” She asks, each word is so quiet he nearly misses them.

Matty doesn't reply for a few moments, listening to the way she was breathing on the other side of the line. Bated and harsh, occasionally she'd inhale and it would be shaky. He made her cry. He swore he wouldn't do that again.

“It's hard for me too y/n/n…” she nods although she knows he can't see her.

“Do you wish you never met me? It would be easier that way”

“No y/n. No. Never” he says.

“Why do you not hate me Matty?” her voice shakes and he hears the sob that tears through her at the end of her words.

“I could never hate you”

“But why? I deserve it…” she wants to continue, to say, "I'm stringing you along, I'm falling for your best friend faster than I should be, I'm allowing myself to be with him but denying you and you should hate me for it” But she doesn't say that.

“No matter what you did… no matter what you will do… I don't think I could ever hate you”

“I don't think that's how it should be Matty” she rolls onto her back, looking up at the pictures hanging across her room. She both loves and hates how many there are of both men now. They’re there, always there, demanding that her heart belongs to them and she doesn’t have the power to say no, to either of them and that’s the problem.

“Who says?” She shrugs. They're silent for a second before she lets her intrusive side ask the question that's been on her lips from the moment he called.

“How was she?” He chuckles and it makes her smile. Why was she smiling?

“She wasn't you”

The date is perfect, exactly like a dream, every detail is etched in her brain and she's sure it will stay there forever, marked as the best date she had ever been on.

He arrived with a huge bouquet of lilies and tulips, so big that she couldn't see his face when she opened the door. He lowered them slowly, making her giggle and reach for his collar, tugging him inside her flat. She felt freer this morning, hellbent on just focusing on the man in front of her. The man who, with one more tug from her, is lowering the flowers to the little table she has by the door and taking her waist into his large hands.

He lowers his mouth to hers gently, they both sigh in tandem. Bliss. This was bliss.

“I missed you” he murmurs against her mouth. She doesn't say it's been less than a day, she doesn't say that despite barely having a minute to think about anything but Matty and his words, and the phone call, she missed him too. She didn't even have to think about Ross to miss him, she didn't have to think at all. Her body and the way it longed for his touch, longed to see those dimples appear at his cheeks and the way his eyes glistened as he looked down at her. Her body and her mind missed him without even having to try.

“I missed you too” she says, slowly pulling away, she reaches for the flowers behind him, smiling widely down at them.

“Thank you, they're beautiful”

“Just like you” his words make her giggle and blush.

“Let me go put these in some water and then we can go” he nods, and follows her into her kitchen. She retrieves a vase from one of her cupboards, filling it with tap water before unwrapping the flowers and putting them in.

She turns to him and smiles, watching the way his fingers traced over a new photo attached to her fridge - One she took of Ross and June at the studio. His smile is so big and it makes her heart swell every time she looks at it, only worsened by the way her nephew is looking up at the bassist.

“What’s the plan Macdonald”? She asks, loving the way he blushes slightly and the way he smirks down at her and especially the way he nibbles his bottom lip slightly.

“Well…” he says, turning to her and opening his arms, she steps into them freely, loving the way his large arms wrapped around her frame. She instantly felt safe. She felt at home.

“There's this record shop I wanted to show you” she smiles and nods excitedly “and then I booked a table at this restaurant” he says and her eyebrows raise.

“Aren't I a bit underdressed for that?” She asks, eyes flicking down to her clothes.

“Love you could turn up in a bin bag and still look better than everyone in there” it makes her giggle again which makes him smile widely, pecking her lips briefly.

“Besides…” his hand that's around her waist slips slightly, resting against her hip and squeezing.

“You could be…” his hand slips further, rounding the side of her hip, taking a handful of her arse and squeezing until she's gasping.

“More, underdressed” his words make her cheeks coat a deep red but she doesn't hide from him. Darker eyes boring into hers as he smirks an evil smirk.

“I like these jeans” he says, squeezing her arse again. She wore them on purpose, loving the way they accentuated her bottom. She was glad he liked them too.

“You're going to make it really difficult to leave this house, you know that?” She asks, her hands drifting up to his jumper cladded chest, eyes wandering south from his eyes until they land on his lips.

He leans forward until his lips are barely touching hers as he mumbles a “mhmm”. He's tortuously slow as he presses his lips to hers. Giving her a firm kiss, his tongue only slightly peaking out, grazing her lip before he's suddenly pulling back.

“We should go” he delivers a quick smack to her bum which makes her gasp and then he's gone. Walking to the door and turning to her at the last moment, smirking at her playfully.

“You're mean Macdonald”

“Now you know how I've felt every single day since meeting you”

They walk hand in hand as they walk the streets, searching for the store Ross mentioned. They talk and laugh as they walk and sometimes Ross can't resist the urge to pull her close with an arm around her shoulders and press a kiss to the side of her head, even leaning down and capturing her lips with his occasionally.

They eventually stumble into the record store, Ross shushing Y/n with his lips as she giggles at something he says. It's quaint and quiet, an oldish man rounding the corner with a huge smile on his face when he sees them.

“Ross” the man says, making the bassist step forward to greet the man with his hand still on her waist. Ross extends his hand and they shake hands before the man's eyes are on her.

“You must be Y/n” he says and she smiles and nods.

“I am” she says, looking up at Ross who smiles at her before looking at the man again.

“Ross here talks a lot about you” he says before he slips round the back of the counter. He disappears for a moment.

“Is that so?” she asks the bassist who smirks down at her, rolling his eyes and pinching her hip lightly making her yelp.

“Don’t get cocky” he warns and she almost has to stop herself from falling to her knees.

The man appears again with several records in his hands all of which she recognises immediately. She slips from Ross’ grasp and meets the man at the counter as he places the records in front of her.

“Now these are really special and not for sale unfortunately but Ross here told me you were a big fan so I pulled them out especially for you” he says making her smile. Her eyes flick back to Ross who is already watching her intently, watching the way her face lights up. She turns away from him but her hand reaches out behind her - reaching for him. He comes to stand next to her, his right arm resting around her waist, holding her hip against him.

The man shows her his Fleetwood Mac collection, many of them limited edition vinyl's and even a few test pressings. She's overwhelmed with gratitude, not just for the records, but for the effort Ross put into making this day so special for her. As they browse through the collection, his fingers gently trace patterns on her hip, and she can't help but steal glances at him, realising how lucky she is to have him by her side.

They finish exploring the record store, revelling in their shared joy of music, they leave hand in hand, her bag a few records heavier, their laughter echoing through the quiet streets and Ross can’t help but want to hear nothing but the beautiful symphony he draws from her, forever more. The sun is beginning to set, casting a warm glow of orange and pink over the city. As they approach the restaurant y/n looks up at Ross excitedly. Inside Ross takes over her coat, his fingers grazing her bare shoulders, setting her skin ablaze.

“Trying to undress me already, Macdonald?” she asks, her voice low, purposefully trying to get him hot under the collar. He coughs lightly, pushing away the lump in his throat and the way his stomach flips. He hands his coats to a waiter who instantly recognises him, leading them to a secluded corner table with flickering candles.

“Do you know everyone?” she asks as he holds out the chair for her, pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek as he tucks her in.

“I’ve got my links” he says into her ear, making her giggle. She takes in the bouquet of pink roses at the centre of the table, the scent of the flowers mingling with the cuisine, creating an intoxicating atmosphere, although they both knew even without them it would be intoxicating. The low thrum of conversation and gentle melodies from the live pianist create a tender atmosphere.

They each pursue the menu, Ross suggesting they share a variety of dishes, talking with the waiter and taking suggestions for the best dishes. She watches as he interacts with the man, confident and sure. She looks at him with her chin placed in the palm of her hand, eyes flicking around all of his features, practically drinking him in. They begin to share stories about their childhood and their love for music and their friends and everything they can think of, wanting to know every single detail about each other.

The waiter arrives with a bottle of red wine and they clink their glasses together, Ross watching intently as she brings the glass to her lips, obsessed with the way her lipstick leaves a mark on the rim. They savour their meal in contented silence but Ross can't help but gaze at Y/n, truly captivated by her beauty. Between bites, their fingers brush against each other, sparks striking and electricity flowing freely between them. Each graze feels charged with so much more, with longing and desire and love : a magnetic pull which makes it impossible to break away from each other.

The soft glow of candlelight accentuates Ross’ soft browns and she feels the way he gazes at her, in every part of her body, feeling like she’s the only person in the room, the only person on earth.

The night deepens, the sky outside turning dark and stars beginning to show - a rare feat for London. They share a dessert, the sweetness coating their tongues. Ross leans in, his lips grazing her ear as he whispers words that make her heart (and core) flutter.

“Nothing is as sweet as you love” his words are laced with lust and desire, a deep crimson coating her cheeks as she smirks. She brings her spoon up to his mouth, coating his lips with chocolate, closing her mouth around his before he can lick it off.

Everything fades into the background when his tongue grazes hers, they become engrossed in each other, no one and nothing else mattered in that moment. He begins to pull away but her finger hooks underneath his chain, halting his movements as she places one more firm kiss to his lips.

They pull back, Y/n giddily smiling at him, he can't help but tuck his hand into his pocket, pulling out his phone to capture a snap of her. She plucks a rose from the vase in the centre of the table, carefully threading in-between her teeth, smiling. It makes Ross swoon, his stomach dipping and then soaring, she looked completely ethereal. He gently pulls the rose from her teeth, smearing his lips against hers with a hand cradling her jaw, controlling their movements until she's sighing blissfully into his mouth again.

As they leave the restaurant, the night sky twinkles, mimicking the sparkle in their eyes. Ross pulls her close, wrapping her up in his warmth and they stroll through the streets. They make their way back to her apartment, the bassist halting at her bottom step, making her turn to face him with a frown.

“I’m not going to come up tonight love” he says, making her frown deeper, her hands finding the lapels of his jacket, smoothing over the fabric of his chest.

“Okay…” she says, doubt setting in her mind, did he not want her? He silences the doubt in her mind with his next words.

“Trust me I want to…” his hand finds her waist, tugging her until she’s in his arms, lips finding hers in a passionate kiss, his tongue moving against hers and she loves the way he kisses now, sure and determined, moving against hers the way he’s worked out she likes. The way that has her breath accelerating and her hands gripping him tightly.

“You’re making it hard for me” she says against his lips. She smiles when he groans, throwing his head back, forcing their lips apart.

“I want do this properly, take you on another date, be a gentleman” he says, squeezing her waist as he groans again, eyes falling to her lips that are just too tempting “but you make it so hard” his lips are on hers again, hands practically clamping around her waist, lifting her up the steps until he’s pressing her against the door.

“Impressive” she chuckles against his lips, hands threading through his hair. He indulges the both of them for a few minutes before he’s pulling away again, placing his head against her chest as he breathes in and out heavily.

“Okay you should go before I beg you to stay” she says, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. He pulls back to look at her, his right hand resting against her cheek, swiping across the soft flesh gently.

“Now that’s something I’m willing to wait for” there’s a softness to his words, it makes her smile and lean forward for one more, gentle kiss. It’s a brief one, a thank you for a perfect date, a thank you for being so amazing.

“Today was perfect Ross, truly” she says, playing with the chain resting around his neck.

“Good enough to warrant another date?” he asks and she nods as she smiles.

“Definitely”.

He pulls her into a brief hug before he’s pulling away to walk down the steps. She hates the way she instantly feels his absence. He tries so hard not to glance back and he immediately regrets it when he does.

She watches as his eyes darken, the way his eyes fall back to her lips. She doesn’t realise she does it, but when her teeth close around her bottom lip he’s there again, he lunges up the step and he’s pressing his lips back to hers, hands greedily grabbing her waist.

She leans into him, sighing into his mouth as he greedily takes what he wants from her. He pulls away but instantly finds the skin at her neck, tongue gliding across the flesh, teeth biting and grazing and god does it feel good. His lips graze her ear and his movements stop.

“You are the subject of all my deepest desires. I want you, your mind, your soul and body so badly Y/n” his words are hushed and she can’t quite believe they’re coming from him. It was too surreal. She can feel her heartbeat grow erratic just like her breath.

“I’d take you up to that room of yours and make you forget every other man you’ve ever been with… every man you’ve ever wanted… I’d put them to shame I swear Y/n'' she's speechless, back arching into him as pleasure courses through her body. He’s not even doing anything now but his words have her flying. She knows they’re true, if the time he was buried in between her thighs was any indication, he’d be everything.

“I’d make you scream my name so loud until it's the only word you can comprehend” his lips graze her neck again, moving round until they’re back against her lips.

“Ross” she sighs, he pauses his attack against her lips, tongue grazing her lips one last time before he pulls away fully. His hands let go of her waist, grip loosening until they fully disappear.

“I’m not going to do anything to you until I’ve spoken to Matty” the mention of the other man has her mouth flying open, even more speechless before.

He gently closes her mouth with two fingers and he places one more peck to her mouth.

“I want this Y/n, believe me I want this, don’t think I don’t, I know what you’re like, you get in that pretty head of yours and I can’t have you thinking i don't want you in every way possible okay?” he asks and she nods slowly.

“You’re everything I have ever wanted and more” he says smiling down at her, hands smoothing out her hair softly “but I can’t do anything until I speak to Matty, I’ll never forgive myself” it's the first time he’s spoken about Matty as if he wanted her. Of course he did, but Ross usually tiptoed around the subject of his best friend.

“I’m going to go now okay? Don’t get into that pretty head of yours okay?” she doesn't speak but nods, leaning up to kiss him once more before he leaves. She opens her door silently, her back finding the other side before she slides down the wood.

“Jesus christ” she says, running a hand through her hair. That was so hot she couldn't help but think. But also what the fuck? She asks herself.

She draws out her phone from her jacket, opening Matty’s number and typing out a message.

“Fuck you” she types. She can't help but think if Matty wasn’t an issue, she would’ve had Ross in the way she wanted. She quickly deletes the message. Pulling up Ross’ contact instead.

“Thank you for today, it was perfect. Perfect”

The bar is empty, the lights that are usually low are bright and her eyes flick around the room as they practise, noticing things she usually wouldn’t have. The space looks huge without all the people, the stools resting upside down against the tables, the absence of glasses, the smell of smoke and the noise of the people makes it calm. The bar manager was kind enough to let them use the space for free, they usually would’ve met at the studio but Jamie wanted to see them in a live setting (that and she was trying to ignore a certain lead singer).

Jamie is set at the back of the bar, glasses perched at the bridge of his nose as he drinks a dark liquid - likely whisky. He sits with papers covering the table and his phone is flat against the wood, he occasionally picks it up to answer an email or text but his focus is usually on them.

They’ve practised a few songs now and he smiles and nods at her before requesting another one. He had given them free reign of choosing their setlist, the show they had planned an important one. He only makes a few suggestions here and there, mostly here to hear their full repertoire.

“Hey Jamie” she says, she watches as his eyes flick up to her and the way he smiles as he nods. Lots of people didn’t like Jamie, she knew this from being in the fandom for years. But she didn’t receive that side of him, he was always kind to her and treated her with respect - valuing her opinion above all else.

“Can we try something new?” she asks, and he nods again.

“Of course… original or cover?” he asks, his pen resting against his lips.

“Cover” she asks, wondering if that would be a problem, she knew he eventually wanted them to just do originals but for now she thinks he might be fine with it.

“Okay… go for it” he says. Her eyes flick around to the band and they all nod.

They begin playing a familiar tune and it's not long before her voice rings out across the room. He hears the door open slightly and his eyes flick to the noise.

The rain is pouring down outside, hitting the pavement harshly. Matty stands there, wet curls clinging to his forehead and small droplets fall, landing on his cheek and slowly trailing down his face. He looks out at the stage, watching as her eyes flutter shut the minute she begins to sing.

He feels his heart tighten in his chest. He feels a pit at his stomach, recognising the song and wondering who she was singing it for.

“If you, if you could return, Don't let it burn, Don't let it fade, I'm sure I'm not being rude, But it's just your attitude, It's tearing me apart, It's ruining every day” she sings. Jamie beckons him over with a finger to his lips, not wanting to disturb her or the band.

She sounded beautiful, she always did. Jamie was impressed again, wondering if there would ever be a time where he wasn’t. Matty feels his breath getting rapid, she sung this song with such pain, it was hauntingly beautiful. But where was it coming from? Who was it about?

“I swore, I swore I would be true, And honey so did you, So why were you holding her hand?, Is that the way we stand?, Were you lying all the time?, Was it just a game to you?” her eyes open and find him and he half expects her to stop singing and storm off the stage, he expects her to look anywhere but at him. And he hates that she doesn’t.

They hadn’t spoke since he called her that night, but he knew, he knew looking at her now, those eyes that he could stare into for eternity, the way they bore into his soul, they way they look broken but hopeful… he knows he needs her and he knows she needs him just as much.

“But I'm in so deep, You know I'm such a fool for you, You got me wrapped around your finger, Do you have to let it linger? Do you have to, do you have to, do you have to let it linger?” her voice is beautiful, she’s beautiful. Her eyes soften looking at him and he sees the twitch of her lips, she almost smiles, almost.

Matty can't do this, he can't sit here and pretend anymore. But he can't move now, entranced, enthralled, captivated. Always captivated by her.

“Oh, I thought the world of you, I thought nothing could go wrong, But I was wrong, I was wrong, If you, if you could get by, Trying not to lie, Things wouldn't be so confused, And I wouldn't feel so used, But you always really knew I just want to be with you” her eyes flutter shut again. Who was she thinking of? Was it him? Was it Ross?

“And I'm in so deep, You know I'm such a fool for you, You got me wrapped around your finger, Do you have to let it linger? Do you have to, do you have to, do you have to let it linger?” she sings the words again. She pictures him in her mind, she feels horrible, convinced she’s the worst person to ever walk this earth.

The date with Ross was perfect and she knew… she knew she was falling for him, hard and fast the exact way she was terrified off. But he made it so easy. So why was she having these feelings towards his best friend? Why did she want them both so much? And why was she so terrified of losing both of them?

The singer. Why did she know that if she opened her eyes again, he’d be there, so close to slipping from her life?

“And I'm in so deep, You know I'm such a fool for you, You got me wrapped around your finger, Do you have to let it linger? Do you have to, do you have to, do you have to let it linger?” her eyes open again and find his own immediately.

She looks across his features and she knows. He’s here, but he won't be for long. She knows the furrow of his eyebrows, she knows the lines in between his brows, she knows the way his lip quivers slightly… he couldn't do this anymore. She was losing him.

“You know I'm such a fool for you, You got me wrapped around your finger, Do you have to let it linger? Do you have to, do you have to, do you have to let it linger?”

He watches as the tear falls down her cheek, she quickly wipes it before her fingers are back at her guitar, finishing the song.

He stands abruptly, walking out the venue. The rain soaks him but he doesn’t care, he doesn’t care about anything but her. It's not long before she’s standing with him, drenched, tears falling just as quickly as the rain. He’s facing away from her when she finds him but he quickly turns to face her when he hears his name.

He steps towards her quickly and she throws her arms over his shoulders as his wrap around her waist pulls her towards him.

“I'm sorry” he murmurs against the top of her head. He shakes as he speaks and she wonders if he’s crying. She knows what his words mean. They mean, I'm sorry I'm leaving, they mean I'm sorry you’ve broken me, they’re sorry I love you, they’re sorry you love him more.

She shakes her head against his chest, placing her head there, silently saying “no, don’t leave, don’t give in”. Neither of them speak. The silence is suddenly broken but she doesn't like it when the words that break it are his.

"You said we couldn't because we're working together... You said it wasn't because of Ross, but then I heard you and-" he lets go of her, stepping back and turning around briefly. His hand covers his face, and he sighs heavily against his hand before he’s facing her again. She sees the heartbreak and it hurts her more than anything else ever had. His eyes are red and she sees tears she wishes she never would see.

"Matty I'm so-"

"Don't say you're sorry" he interrupts her and her tears fall faster.

"I thought you'd never lie to me" his words are sad.

"I didn't mean to Matty... I swear... I wanted to tell you…. But" he stops her again, a sharp turn towards her, she takes one look at the angry look on his face and her voice fails her.

"But you what? What's the poor excuse you're going to come up with!" He's shouting now.

"I didn't want to hurt you Matty!" She shouts back, not because she wanted to but because she was afraid he wouldn't listen if she didn't.

"Don't do that! Don't pity me..." Neither of them say it. Neither of them mention that the fact she didn't tell him about Ross was because it was obvious he liked her too.

"You knew I liked you... You knew it.. and you still got with my best mate" it's the first time he's admitting it out loud, and it shakes her to the core.

"Matty please... As soon as I had the slight inclination that you liked me, I tried to put an end to it .. I really did. But Ross..." Her tears fall faster now and she tries to grip onto him, to pull him so he's looking at her, listening to her.

"Ross what? Ross made you?"

"No... I really like him, Matty... I tried to stop it I did but I-"

"you just couldn't" he's facing her now, grabbing her wrist and pulling her closer to him. It's a weird move but she allows him. His fingertips graze her cheek, catching the tears.

"And here I was thinking... Hoping... That you'd like me just a little bit... That you'd choose me over him... But who am I? Who am I compared to Ross? He's my best friend... He deserves you" his words are sad and she frowns up at him, shaking her head.

"Don't say that... You're everything Matty" she truly believes it's why the situation has been so god damn difficult for her.

"Don't say that just to be nice to me..."

"I'm not Matty... You have to know, this hasn't been easy for me. In fact it's been really fucking difficult" she chuckles at herself before her hand clasps his face gently.

"How?" He can't see how it would've been difficult for her.

"Because... I like you too" the confession knocks the breath from him, and her too. It was the first time she had admitted it out loud.

"But you like him more right?" She shakes her head.

"It's not like that...It's- it's both. You're both so different..." She tries her best to explain. She doesn't mention that Ross was real, whilst Matty represented a fantasy, someone who reflected parts of her soul. Whilst Ross was her soul. Ross had her heart, she knew that, and secretly so did he.

“Ross told me you went on a date…” he doesn’t look into her eyes and she doesn’t look into his actively avoiding each other, not wanting to see her reaction, hoping she’d speak and hide her true emotions. His thumb runs along the side of her face, hooking under her chin and raising it until she’s looking into his eyes. She nods.

“How was it?” he asks, eyes silently begging her not to lie. She breathes deeply, she wouldn’t lie, not this time, she couldn’t.

“It was almost perfect” the ‘almost’ accidentally slips and she’s quick to squeeze her eyes shut, wanting to avoid the question she knew he’d ask now.

“Almost?” he says. She nods but doesn’t open her eyes.

“Open your eyes Y/n” he pleads, “please” he knew she wouldn’t tell him what the singular word meant, but they both knew, one look into his eyes and he’d be able to read her like a book. She opens them slowly, finding his glistening brown orbs.

They tell him everything he needs to know. Her eyes don’t hide the secret like she’s trying to. His mind flicks back to the conversation with Ross, he knew what Ross said, that he wouldn’t do anything without Matty’s permission, that he didn’t want to hurt his best friend but that he wanted her more than anything in the world: he wanted her soul and her body and wanted her to be his. Matty didn’t quite believe him when he said it, wondering how well his friend actually managed to resist her. But looking into her eyes now, he knows it's true.

And what hurts more than anything, what completely destroys him, is the fact he can tell she wants Ross just as badly.

"I can't do this," he steps away from her.

"Matty please..."

"no I can't do this y/n... I can't watch you fall in love with my best friend... Who I know is falling just as hard... And he deserves you he truly does... But I can't do that, it will break me"

"Matty please" she begs "I can't lose you..."

"It's not enough... I can't do this" he gestures between them "I just can't, it's too hard"

Right then and there, looking into his sad eyes which are coated with tears, she knows, if she didn't do something, she'd lose him.

"Matty" her voice is the clearest it's been all night and it makes him turn to her again. "I want you to kiss me" she says and his mouth falls open, despite what his brain tells him, that he can't, that it was obvious she was Ross', he steps towards her.

"we can't..." His hand holds her waist as hers fall to his shoulders.

"Please Matty... Kiss me" his eyes search hers, seeing no lie or uncertainty. She wanted this, and so did he. So he slowly lowers his mouth to hers, the initial graze sets her soul ablaze. This one graze redefined everything she ever thought. It was fireworks. It touched part of her soul which she thought was dead. But only part.

It didn't light up all of her, it didn't completely overwhelm her, they didn't merge into one being as they kissed. It was beautiful and loving and it was spectacular... But it wasn't Ross. It could never be Ross. Matty felt it too. He pulls away with a silent sob.

"You're never going to love me like you love him" he murmurs into her mouth. Her tears fall again, sad ones, ones in which tell her and him that he's right.

"I want to .. I can't lose you Matty"

"you won't, losing you would destroy me completely" he presses their lips together again. They move against each other but not easily, it’s the hardest kiss either of them have shared with anyone. Even now, it's full of we-can't, it’s full of we-shouldn’t, it's full of hurt and heartbreak. Her hands grasp his shirt harshly, not wanting him to leave just yet. They needed this, if not only for a moment.

“Matty” she sighs against his mouth. His tongue peaks through his lips and through hers, finding hers and intertwining. He feels a wet tear fall to his cheek but it's not his and he pulls back.

"I'm truly a shitty friend" he thinks. He didn't deserve her and he most certainly didn't deserve a friend like Ross.

Fuck... Ross they both think they had well truly messed this whole thing up. She pulls away, gasping as the realisation settles in.

"I just kissed Ross' best friend .... Twice" she’s gone before he can stop her. She runs faster than her feet allow, but she still runs.

"Shit. shit!" He shouts.

She doesn’t know where she’s running. But she runs and she doesn’t stop.

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hyuuukais · 9 months

Text

✧˖°ʚ🍓ɞ♡ SUNSHINE AND STRAWBERRIES

pairing ☆ lee felix x fem reader

synopsis ☆ Y/N is a new streamer. after months of planning, and her best friend & now fellow streamer han jisung convincing her, she makes a twitch and youtube account. thanks to jisung giving her a shoutout to his own huge following, she gains some unexpected overnight fame. but what was more unexpected was waking up to see her long-time favourite comfort streamer _sunshine.bbokari_ following her.

warnings ☆ swearing

[TAGLIST -> CLOSED]

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

☆partially written chapter, 6 screenshots☆

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE ☆ COMING CLEAN

When you look up, your eyes lock with Kai's across the room, who gives you a thumbs up. The backup plan was he'd act like he just came in, notice you, and make up something normal enough to seem believable, rambling while bringing you out leaving no room for questioning. While you feel ready to tell Jake, you have no idea how he'll respond, so an out was needed.

After a few minutes of waiting, someone slides across from you. Your eyes stay on the table, too nervous to look at him. It's been so long... what if you look up and all you see in his eyes is disappointment? Or anger? Or hate?

He could hate you, you think, if he doesn't already, he will after this. Y/N, how could you?

The little voice in your head doesn't stop, breathing becoming shallow. A hand rests softly on your wrist, bringing you back to reality- it's Jake, of course it's Jake.

"Dont listen to the voice," He says softly, eyes knowing. "Just tell me what it is."

"I..." You rub your collarbone with your free hand. "Promise you won't hate me?"

Bewildered, he shakes his head, looking away briefly only to look back more intensely then before.

"Y/N I could never hate you." His voice is low. "You could break my heart into a million pieces, I still wouldn't be able to hate you."

Tears prickle at the edges of your eyes. A waitress is about to approach, but seeing your expression and the way Jake's hand is still resting on yours, she turns to another table. Part of you so desperately wants- no, needs- an interruption.

Kai watches the two of you from afar, wondering if he should step in when he sees your panicked look. But you said wait for the signal, two taps to your right temple.

"C'mon, Y/N, you've got this..." Kai sips his drink, leg bouncing, anticipation coursing through his body.

Your eyes brush over him, but quickly look back to Jake with a deep breath.

"When you told me how you felt, I panicked. I didn't know how to respond, so I..." You break eye contact sheepishly. "I made something up. The boyfriend thing it... wasn't true. At the time, I thought it would hurt you less! Saying I had a boyfriend instead of just saying straight up, 'hey I don't like you like that! Sorry to break it to you!' But I know now how stupid that was-"

"You and Felix though-" Jake takes his hand away finally, and you could see the gears in his brain working. "It was all fake?"

When he looks up at you, you see more confusion than hurt.

"Um, yeah. But it's real now."

"Wait, wait, wait," He holds up his hands in a stopping motion. "What?"

"We were fake dating and now real dating?" You shrug.

There's a beat where no one says anything. Silence heavy, anxiety high, Jake's hands still in the air before suddenly dropping in a laugh.

"How the hell did you manage to actually pull the Lee Felix?!" He shakes his head more, leaning back with a smile on his face. "That's actually- wow. I can't- wow!"

Now you're more confused then ever.

"You're not... mad?

"Mad? No- well, maybe a bit upset you lied, but then I have to think, would I have done different?" Jake pretends he's deep in thought, hand rubbing his chin. "Yeah, probably. But who knows for sure that I wouldn't have faked a girlfriend?"

You laugh, tension easing away slowly.

"I'm sorry for blocking you," Jake's tone turns serious, causing the tightness in your chest to return. "Not my best idea, but I didn't know what to do. It was hard seeing you everywhere, and I needed to clear my head, feel my feelings." He looks away, cheeks flushed. "What if I told you I met someone while we weren't talking? And that she helped me a lot with getting over you? Like talking through stuff, helping me realize I'd rather have you as a friend over anything else... and in the process I may have... fell for her?"

He looks so embarrassed you can't help the giggle that escapes you.

"Oh my god?" You gasp, trying to contain yourself. "That's so- of course you would!"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jake's cheeks burn a brighter shade of pink.

"Nothing, just- that's so... almost sweet?" A disgusted look crosses your face. "You didn't hear that from me." He laughs. "I'm happy for you, but damn did blocking me hurt. I might need some time before we get back to normal, but this is a good start."

"I totally understand that," A small smile forms on his face. "Why don't we go ahead and finally order? Oh, and tell Kai he can join us."

"You- you knew he was here?!" It was your turn to blush.

"He's kinda hard to hide..."

You both burst into giggles, signalling Kai to join your table.

☆~☆~☆

notes ☆ it's out in the open !!!!! i was like hmm i COULD make this kinda sad, but decided not to bc y/n deserves a string of good things rn

taglist ☆ @marcillfll @toplinelix @neri-ner @tfshouldidohere @imasimplol @samvagejkflxhrt @yennifersgeralt @aestheticsluut @cherryuqii @tenebrisirae @roseidol @veryjeongintxtkid @amara-mars @chrizzlaptop @bmnyy @sheeshhhhfelixsworld @ellelabelle @gini143 @mrsseals16 @veedoesntknaur @channiesstars @daydreamer5006 @luvvvash @amesification @skzswife @blamemef0rit @soulphoenix1618 @lovingmny @stvrfir3 @boo-ven9eance @adestayskz @rag-iii @enchantedgrunge @mytherapisttoldmenotto @strawberry-dreamland @oh-my-fancan @lucktales @cookielino @fantasyaddict123 @sleeplessmin @alexxxxxthebitxh @flirtyskzbutterfly @vixensss @hannahs-docx @hash2013 @jellsxox @sserafimez @theblindhag @liknws @hannahhbahng

pink means i can't tag you

#✧˖°ʚ🍓ɞ♡ SUNSHINE AND STRAWBERRIES #skz #stray kids #skz smau #social media au #lee felix x reader #stray kids smau #lee felix #lee felix x fem reader #non idol felix #non idol au #stray kids streamer au #felix streamer au #streamer au

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i99zhuo · 8 months

Text

How to live like yena ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁₊˚⋆ lazy day routine

This is a guide on daily routines inspired by Choi Yena! These routines are ideal to do in a lazy day when your motivation and energy are both low, but you still want to get some things done!

content list (routines):

morning

study

workout

shower and self-care

night

(_ _ ) . . z Z⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚୨ :★: ୧ ∗ ˖࣪ ໒꒱ ˚₊·

✸ ꒰ morning routine ꒱⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

Yena starts her days checking her phone, it's important to not do it immediately after waking up, take some time to remember your dreams or drink water until you're fully awake. Checking social media in the morning can change your mood drastically, so always make sure to detox your socials! Unfollow or block people you don't want on your feed + follow inspiring accounts.

Next step is to get ourselves our favorite sugary drink, although it's not healthy to have this amount of sugar every day, giving ourselves a treat, specially when we are feeling off can't be harmful! (just remember to drink water the rest of the day (;° ロ°)!)

Now it's time to play video games! Choose one that gets you out of bed like just dance or some kind of VR game, if you don't feel like moving because you're sick or have period cramps, you can play a phone game like kartrider rush+.

After having fun, it's time to make chores (っ- ‸ - ς) Yena doesn't really like to do them, she even tricks her older brother Sungmin to do them for her! But still, she ends up doing them anyway ૮ ◞ ﻌ ◟ ა some chores you can do is making your bed, clean your room, organize laundry and do the dishes or anything that makes your room clean and functional for the rest of the day.

Time for breakfast! Yena's favorite is inspired by the movie "howl's moving castle", basically it's eggs, bacon, toast and cheese with a cup of tea, if this doesn't seem like your type of breakfast, you can try another recipe based on movies or shows or just one that you've been wanting to try for some time now!

Finally, it's time to get ready! Do your skincare, brush your hair into a comfy hairstyle and only wear comfy clothes. You decide if you want to wear makeup today or not, but if you do, try some new styles or colors to refresh your style, you can even try Yena's makeup looks!

✸ ꒰ study routine ꒱⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

When we're feeling tired, the last thing we want to do is to study, but sometimes we don't have other option. If you have no other option than study today, you can do a little revision of the content, organize and delay some tasks to do any other day and do some simple things like easy homework, you can listen to your favorite songs to boost your mood!

After this short study session, you can "reward" yourself and watch some kpop content (Yena is a huge kpop fan!) like variety shows your favs appear in, MV's or live presentations.

✸ ꒰ workout routine ꒱⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

Yena is actually not good at doing heavy workouts, usually she does short routines with Sungmin! So what are we're going to do is a do a 5 min workout for our target area (arms, abs, legs, etc.) or a low impact full body workout!

If you actually feel a little more energetic now, you can do a kpop random dance, these are so fun to play especially if you're a multistan! Or you can try and learn some new choreographies from scratch too.

✸ ꒰ shower + self care routine ꒱⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

A relaxing bath is always a good idea on a lazy day! First, set the mood with some relaxing music and your favorite scent, then wash your body using a sweet-scented body wash and then use a scrub to soften your skin, for extra soft skin, use a light body lotion after. Only use dry shampoo today, you’re probably too tired to wash and dry it today ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ

After refreshing it's a perfect time to take a break from your phone and do some journaling, search for prompts on Pinterest to see why you were feeling down or lazy today and search for a solution, if you're feeling creative, take some stickers, memo pads and cute pens to start scrapbooking! Listen to some music if you find it too boring.

✸ ꒰ night routine ꒱⋆ ��.* ࣪.⋆

Yena starts and ends her days gaming, so get comfy in bed and start playing cute games! Some ideal games to play at night are animal crossing (pocket camp, new horizons, etc.) hello kitty dream café, cooking mama or hello kitty world 2!

Before going to sleep, watch an episode from a kdrama, cartoons or anime! Some recommendations from Yena are saiki k and chainsaw man

don't stay too late tho, you need to sleep well tonight (ᴗ˳ᴗ)💤

(_ _ ) . . z Z⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚୨ :★: ୧ ∗ ˖࣪ ໒꒱ ˚₊·

ty for reading!!! I really wanted to do this guide cuz yena is my fav soloist, her style is so cute and i don't see much content about her often + I'm really into routines and self care, but they always require to do so much stuff everyday and i can't help but feel tired after doing them, but then i feel guilty if i don't do them, so i wanted to make a toned down version so I can recharge energy while being productive :3

Remember to always take breaks!!!!!

Next part of these series is going to be about a le sserafim member so stay tuned if you're interested 👀

anyways I think that's all

toodles 🍡

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cherrycola27 · 1 year

Text

To Hec and Back

Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader Call Sign Hecate

Warnings: Language. Sub!Jake, praise kink, degradation kink, Dom!Reader, slapping, choking. Orgasm Denial, Bondage, Mommy Kink, Breeding Kink. Smut, 18+ Minors DNI. Jake likes girls who are mean to him.

Previous Part

Next Part

...........................................

Your heart raced in your chest as you watched him fly. Jake was up in the sky for the first time since his accident. He was completing a training exercise with Payback and Fanboy. Everything was going well. Soon, the three of them came in for a landing.

You immediately rushed out to him. You could see the huge smile on his face the moment he stepped out of the plane.

He ran over to you and swept you into a hug.

"Evil be gone, Hangmans back!" He half shouted. You laughed and gave him a smile.

"You'd better watch out, baby. Now that I'm back in the game, think you'll be okay with being the second best pilot around here?" He teased you. You rolled your eyes. Jake had been making these playful jabs all day.

You reached up and pulled his ear down to your mouth before whispering: "Jacob, if you think goading me at work is going to get your dick wet when we get home, you're wrong. Be a good boy and be patient. I promise I'll make it worth your while." You wink at him before walking away.

It takes Jake a full minute before his brain starts working again.

"Hecate, wait a minute!" He calls after you, jogging to catch up.

"Yes, Jacob?" You smirk at him. "I know we kind of had plans to stay in tonight, but how would you feel if those changed?" He asks you with an almost nervous smile.

"Changed how? What did you have in mind?" You ask him.

"It's a surprise." He replies. You ponder for a moment. "Okay, I'll bite." You tell him.

"Great, fantastic baby." He cheers. "Why don't you head back to your place and get dolled up. I would love it if you wore that black velvet dress with the slit. The one you wore for Admiral Cain's retirement gala." Jake tells you.

"Jake, that was almost a year ago. How do you even remember what I wore?" You asked him, shocked at his attention to detail.

"I'll always remember what you were wearing the night I fell for you. Some Ensign wouldn't leave you alone, and you dislocated his shoulder. My first thought was 'What a woman'." He smiles at you.

You are baffled at his confession. Jake had been pining over you for months and you had no clue.

"Okay, Jakey, I'll wear it." You agree.

"Fantastic. I have to run over to my place to grab something. I'll pick you up at 6." He confirms before heading out.

You have an extra spring in your step as you head home. You immediately get in the shower to shave and scrub. Once you're clean and you've dried your hair, you set out to find the dress that Jake asked you to wear. It's in the back of your closet tucked away in a bag.

You pull it out and admire it. It was beautiful. Crushed black velvet, delicate straps, and a slightly plunging neckline. It had a slit up to your thigh and a thin satin belt around the waist.

You reached into the top of your closet to pull down the box that contained one of your most prized possessions, your black Louboutin heels. If you were going to wear an amazing dress, you needed amazing shoes to go with it.

You decided to keep your hair simple. An elegant low bun with a few tendrils left to frame your face. It left your neck exposed, something you knew Jake loved. You paired your outfit with some subtle, yet sultry makeup. Finishing it off with a red lip the same color as your nails.

You accented your dress with a delicate silver chain that rested near your cleavage and some diamond stud earrings.

You had decided to forego undergarments for the evening, something else Jake would appreciate.

When you check the clock, you had just enough time to pack a few necessary things in a clutch to bring with you.

True to his word, Jake showed up at your door at six. You both did a double take of the other when you opened the door. He was wearing a charcoal suit and had neatly styled his hair. He drank in the sight of you, and if he hadn't spent two weeks planning this, the two of you probably would have stayed in.

Jake didn't tell you where you were going when you got in his truck. You wanted to pry, but just went along with the ride.

45 minutes later, the two of you were sat on a private patio at a bistro in La Jolla. You had mentioned this place once in passing to Jake, but he had remembered.

The warm breeze wrapped around the two of you as you ate.

You couldn't help but notice that Jake seemed a little nervous during the meal. The two of you were waiting for dessert when you finally addressed it.

"Jacob," you say softly, reaching out for his hand. "Is everything alight? You seem a bit on edge." You say, stroking your thumb over his knuckles.

He takes a deep breath before taking your hand in his and kissing it.

"Everything's fine darlin'. I promise." He smiles back, leaning a bit more into his southern accent.

Before you can register it, he's down on one knee in front of you.

"Jacob, you can't be serious." You say, looking back at him with wide eyes.

"Hecate, I've never been more serious about anything in my life. I love you. And if my accident has taught me anything, it's that we aren't guaranteed tomorrow." Jake looks back at you in earnest.

"You're sure—you want to do this?" You ask, knowing there's no turning back from this.

"Serious as an F-18 ejection." He tease back.

"Okay. Ask me again." You smile back at him, fighting tears.

"Hecate, will you marry me?"

"Yes. Yes, Jacob, I'll marry you." You breathe out. Happy tears cascade down your face. An ear splitting grin breaks out across Jake's face. He stands up from the patio and slides the ring on your finger. It's like nothing you've ever seen before.

It's a hexagon cut, salt, and pepper diamond set in rose gold. It has a halo of colorless diamonds around it. It's darkness and light. Just like the two of you.

"Jake, it's gorgeous." You say admiring it.

"I designed it myself." He smiles at you. "The first night I saw you in the club, I knew I was going to marry you." He confesses.

"Jake." You breathe out, you can't belive he's been planning this.

"I called my mom the next day and had her rush ship the ring my grandmother left for me to use for my future wife. The smaller diamonds are from it. I saw the center one at the jewelers. I knew it was perfect." He continues to tell you.

Your heart could melt. Jake had really pulled out all the stops.

You look across the table at your boyfriend, no, your fiancée. You can see the love in his eyes for you. He's so happy right now, and so are you. But there's something in his eyes, just behind the happiness. A glint of something darker, the same one that you have as well.

"Jacob darling, what if we skipped dessert and head home—to celebrate." You whisper seductively as you slide your hand up his thigh.

You watch his adams apple bob in his throat as he swallowed thickly before waving the waiter over to ask for the check.

Jake had a white knuckled grip on the steering wheel the whole drive back. You weren't helping the situation either. Your hand kept trailing up and down his leg, stopping right before you touched him where he desperately needed you.

"Hecate, love, if you want us to make it home, I'm going to need you to keep your hands to yourself." He scolds you.

"Okay, darling. I can do that," you say breathlessly.

Soon, you settle back in your seat and open your thighs as much as the slit in your dress allows. Your right hand slips between them as you gather your pooling wetness and begin to circle your clit.

You sigh contentedly. You look over to Jake, who looks like he might combust at any given moment.

"Hecate." He groans low in his chest. "What Jacob? I'm only doing what you asked." You feign.

He takes a deep breath and focuses on the road.

You let out a chuckle before pushing further. You slide two fingers into your core, angling them just right. They don't feel as good as his, but it's enough for now.

Soon, the cab of his truck is filled with your moans and the sinful sounds of your fingers sliding in and out of your wet heat.

"Fucking Christ Hecate, you're killing me!" Jake groans as he slows down at a red light. He drops one hand from the steering wheel and reaches out for you. You swat it away. He opens his mouth to say something, but he's cut off by a honking horn.

You're still about five minutes from home, and you could keep yourself on the edge if you really wanted to, but what's the fun in that?

"Oh Jacob, I'm so close!" You moan out. You can see his jaw tick. "You want me to cum right now don't you? You want to think about it every time you get in this truck? How sexy I look falling apart?" You tease him.

"Yes." He breathes out. "I want you to cum all over my leather seats, and I never want to clean them. I want to be reminded of how much I turn you on all the time, baby. Please cum for me." He practically begs. God, you love it when he begs.

Your thumb quickly strokes your clit and soon, you're falling over the edge, just as he pulls in the driveway.

He kills the engine and looks over at you. Your body is flush, and your hand is still in your cunt. Without warning, he grabs it and sucks your fingers into his mouth, licking them clean.

"Fucking delicious baby, way better than dessert. Now let's get you inside so I can have some more."

He sprints from the vehicle and throws you over his shoulder. The two of you had barely made it inside before he's toeing off his shoes and sinking to his knees in front of you. He slips his head under the slit of your dress. It doesn't give him much room, but he growls in appreciation when he sees you aren't wearing any underwear.

He wastes no time, diving in and lapping up your wetness like a starved man. Your head falls back against the wall as he worships you. Your fingers card through his hair as he moans against your core.

He's so eager to please you, his fiancée, his future wife.

He's too eager. While your dress is beautiful, it doesn't give him enough space, which is why it doesn't come as a surprise to him when it rips. He doesn't seem to mind, but the sound immediately causes your head to snap up and your nails to dig into his scalp.

You grip his locks and pull him off of you. He sits back on his knees with wide eyes. "Hec I," He sputters out when he sees the darkness in your eyes.

You don't respond to him. Instead, you push him to the floor. He scrambles to get up, but before he can, you plant the red sole of your high-heeled shoe firmly in the middle of his chest.

He looks up at you, towering over him. You push down a little harder, and he would be lying if he said that didn't cause all the blood in his body to rush to his cock.

"You ripped my dress. I loved this dress." You state. He isn't sure how to reply.

"You've been a bad boy, Jacob. Mama doesn't like it when you're a bad boy." You tell him.

"I'm sorry." He whispers. "Oh Jacob, you're going to be sorry." You chuckle. "Go upstairs, strip, and wait on the bed for me like the good pillow princess you are." You command before lifting your foot. He scrambles up from the floor and all but runs up the stairs.

You take your time going up the stairs. You go to the kitchen and have a glass of wine and wait a few moments before finally going to him.

Once you enter the bedroom, you see that Jacob did a good job following directions. He was leaning against the headboard, his painfully hard cock standing at full attention. He had a hungry look in his eyes.

You didn't say anything. Instead, choosing to walk over to the foot of the bed where his suit lay, neatly folded on the ottoman. Wordlessly, you slipped your ruined dress down your body and stepped out of it. Kicking it to the side with your heels. You reach down and grab his tie from earlier.

You glide over the the side of the bed, clad only in your shoes and engagement ring, you slide on the bed and straddle him. You grab his arms and loop the tie around his wrist before securing it to the headboard.

"Hecate, I'm sorry about your dress, I'll buy you a new one." Jake grunts out as you slide down his torso. Your round ass is nestled against his cock, and he can feel the heat of your core. He wants to be buried inside you so badly.

"I don't want you to buy me a new dress." You say, darkly.

"The what do you want, baby? I'll do anything for you." He's so eager for your approval. He thrives on your praises.

"I want to suck your dick, Jacob." You tell him.

He looks at you, blinking slowly, not quite understanding how he's getting a reward after ripping your dress. But the tie around his wrist let's him know that you're still in charge.

You lay yourself flat on the mattress, arching your back, crossing your legs. He can see the bright red of the bottoms of your shoes. It matches your nails and the lips that are about to wrap around him perfectly.

You pause, taking in the sight of him. His cock stands hard and proud. The tip flushed the same color as his lips, a bead of precum leaking out. You flatten your tongue and run it along the vein that stretches across the underside of his length.

He sucks in a sharp breath and cries out. You repeat the action over and over again before wrapping your lips around the tip. You hollow out your cheeks as you take him further and further down your throat.

He lets out a symphony of moans and groans as you suck him. He gives you a warning that he's close, and that's your cue to pull off of him.

"Baby, why—why'd you stop?" He pants out.

"I told you that you'd been a bad boy, bad boys don't get to cum." You say with a smirk. Terror flashes in his eyes as you stare up at him.

Jake tries to protest, but it dies on his lips, as you take him in your mouth again.

You continue to build him up and stop, over and over again.

You're having too much fun with this. His thighs are shaking, and he's helplessly pulling against the tie. But what you love most is that he's begging you for a release as hot tears slide down his face.

You climb back over him. Your soaked core sitting attop his abs.

"Jacob, you look so fucking pretty when you cry. You know that?" You cooed to him as you wiped a tear from his face.

"Baby, please, I need—" He whined before you cut him off.

"Mama knows exactly what her good boy needs, and he'll get it when she's ready to give it to him." You tell him, cradling his face.

"Now, I'm going to ride this pretty dick of yours, Jakey, until I cum, and you're not going to get to finish until I'm satisfied. Got it?" You tell him.

"Yes Ma'am." He whispers out.

Before you take him, you pause for a moment.

"Jake," you say, your dom facade dropping for a moment.

"I'm fine, baby, I promise." He replies. "Okay... I was wondering. Could we try something?" You ask him.

"What did you have in mind?" He asks. You don't answer. Instead you lean over and grab a black, vibrating cock ring out of your nightstand.

"Fuck yes baby, put it on me and then ride my face before you ride my dick, please." Jake stutters out.

"Someone's greedy." You say, as you fasten it and use the remote to turn it on. You leave it on a low setting as you straddle his face.

He hums against your core before diving in.

It doesn't take you long to build up. His tongue draws through your wetness with expert precision, probably some flight plan he memorized.

You grip the headboard as you grind on him. His noses bumps your clit with every movement. Soon, you're crying out as he coaxes you through your finishing, drinking up every last drop.

You slide off his face and line up with his cock. His hips jerks when you turn the ring up higher.

"Color?" You ask just to be safe. "Green," He confirms

You give him a chaste kiss before sliding down on his length. He hisses at the contact.

You start out riding him slowly. Building up your rhythm. The cock ring hits your clit each time you move.

Jake looks up at you with adoration. Your hair has fallen from its bun and cascades over your shoulders. Your red lipstick is slightly smeaked from where you've sucked him off. Your hands are fondling your breasts as you throw your head back and cry out his name. You look beautiful, gorgeous, ethereal. You look like a goddess.

To him, you are, and every day, he wonders how he got lucky enough to worship you.

"Hecate, I'm not going to last much longer. Can I please cum?" He pants out.

He really has done so good for you, but you want to push his limits.

"Not yet, baby." You stay before turning the ring up as high as it will go.

"FUCK!" He cries out as you being to ride him harder. He plants his feet and drives up, meeting every one of your thrusts.

God, it feels good. The head of him kisses your cervix with each movement, the vibrations of the cock ring stimulate your clit each time you come down on it. You're close, too. You're almost too lost in your pleasure to untie his hands, but somehow, you're able to slip the knot.

With his newfound freedom, Jake's hands go to your thighs to help guide your thrusts as they start to become sloppy.

"Hec, I can't." He grunts out. "Pleasepleasepleaseplease" He slurs, trying to fight his finish.

"I'm so close, Jacob, cum with me, cum with me baby!" You cry out as euphoria washes over you.

You scream his name, and your nails claw his chest, leaving angry red lines in their wake.

The feeling of you contracting around him sends him over the edge. He cums hard than he ever has in his life. He continues to drive up into you, fucking his release back in, over and over again.

His hips stutter into you as you collapse on top of him. He's still buried deep inside you. You are trying to steady your breath and bask in the after-glow of an earth-shattering orgasm when suddenly, he's trying to push you off of him.

"S'too much, too much!" He sobs.

In your haze of pleasure you'd forgot about the cock ring. You quickly turn it off and slide it off of him.

You roll onto your side and pull him against you. You stroke his hair and help Jake get his breathing under control.

He trembles against you as you pull the blankets up.

You pull back to meet his eyes. Their glassy. Hazed over with the remnants of pleasure and tears.

"Shhhh, everything's okay baby. You did so good for me. Such a good, good boy." You coo.

He wants to reply. Tell you he loves you, but his brain isn't working, and all that comes out is a pathetic whine.

"I know baby, I love you too." You say, almost as if you can read his mind.

He has enough strength to wrap his arms around you.

You sigh and kiss his head.

"Get some rest, my love. Tomorrow, we can tell everyone the good news, but for now, sleep."

Tag List: @dreamingathighaltitude @shanimallina87 @luckyladycreator2 @mak-32 @katieshook02 @samhapner6 @rosiahills22 @thedroneranger @roosterforme @youlightmeupfinn @withahappyrefrain @arson-tm @sebsxphia

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