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pucksandpower · 1 day

Text

Rockabye Baby

Oscar Piastri x Reader

Summary: you and Oscar take the next step in building your family … just not in the way that anyone expected

Note: I really wanted to get something silly and cute posted for Mother’s Day — and so this was born! I hope you have as much fun reading this as I did writing it 🫶

You snuggle closer to Oscar in bed, resting your head on his chest as his fingers lazily trail up and down your arm. It’s been an exhausting few weeks on the road, with races back-to-back, but these quiet moments together make it all worth it.

“Osc?” You murmur sleepily. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course, babe.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Anything.”

You hesitate, not sure if you should broach the subject. But you’ve been together for years now, surely he’s thought about it too? “Have you ever, you know … thought about having kids?”

Oscar tenses slightly, his fingers stilling on your skin. “Kids?”

“Yeah.” You prop yourself up on one elbow to study his face. “We’re not getting any younger. And I know racing is your whole life, but … I don’t know, I think you’d make an amazing dad.”

A small smile plays at the corners of his mouth. “You do, huh?” His fingers resume their gentle stroking along your arm. “I can’t lie, the idea terrifies me. All the responsibility, the pressure ...” He blows out a long breath. “But with you by my side? I think we could make it work.”

Hope blooms in your chest and you lean in to kiss him, long and lingering. “Really? You mean that?”

“Well, not right this second.” He chuckles, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “But someday? Definitely.”

You beam at him, buzzing with a childlike excitement you haven’t felt in years. “Oscar Piastri, future father. I can’t wait.”

He pulls you close, tucking you under his chin. “Me neither. Now get some rest, yeah? Big day tomorrow.”

You hum contentedly, letting his steady heartbeat lull you toward sleep. Kids with Oscar … you can’t imagine anything better.

A few days later, you’re curled up on the sofa after a long day of work, idly scrolling through your phone while Oscar pads around the flat. He’s been oddly restless and fidgety all evening, but you’ve learned not to question his little quirks. He’ll open up when he’s ready.

“So,” he begins, sinking onto the couch beside you with an adorably nervous expression. “You know how the other night you mentioned, um … wanting to be a mum someday?”

You perk up instantly, setting your phone aside as your pulse kicks up a notch. “Yeah?”

“Well.” He ducks his head shyly, then pulls something from behind his back — a small, smooth rock, painted in garish shades of papaya. “I got you this.”

You blink at him. “A … rock?”

“It’s our baby!” He thrusts it toward you proudly. “See, I’m the dad now. Taking those first steps.”

A startled laugh bubbles up from your chest. “Oscar, you dork. That’s the cutest, most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Too much?” He grimaces, though his eyes are twinkling with barely contained mirth. “I just thought, you know, we could start small. Get used to the idea before, uh, before anything bigger.”

“Oh my god, I love you.” You take the rock from his hand, cradling it tenderly as you peck his cheek. “Hi there, little guy. Hope you don’t mind a slightly non-traditional family.”

“Not at all.” Oscar drapes his arm around your shoulders as you lean into his side. “We’ll just raise him to be open-minded and accepting. Like his mum.”

“His mum who gave birth to him in pebble form, you mean?”

Oscar shrugs unapologetically. “He’ll be the talk of the playground.”

You dissolve into helpless giggles, nestling even closer. “This is certifiably insane, you know that? I can’t believe we’re grown adults playing house with a pet rock.”

“Hey, don’t knock it till you try it.” Oscar nuzzles into the crook of your neck, warm and solid against you. “We’re new parents. We can do whatever we want.”

Over the next few days, Rocky, as you’ve lovingly dubbed him, becomes a constant presence. You bring him along when you travel to the next race, introducing him proudly to the team. Lando takes one look and bursts out laughing.

“What the bloody hell is that thing?”

“Our son,” Oscar says with a straight face. “Would you like to meet your nephew?”

“You two are properly mental.” But there’s an unmistakable fondness in Lando’s smile as he gently pokes at Rocky. “S’pose he takes after his dad, eh?”

You crack up at the offended look on Oscar’s face. “Oh, trust me, I’ll be handling most of the heavy lifting around here.”

From there, it only escalates. Rocky gets his own tiny race suit, his own seat in Oscar’s car (firmly buckled in, of course — safety first). You find yourself referring to him with increasingly outlandish endearments.

“Here, let me get the handsomest stone in the whole wide world a bottle before we try tummy time.”

“How’s my little pebble today? Did you sleep okay in your bassinet?”

Logan nearly falls over laughing the first time he sees Rocky strapped into a miniature car seat on the plane between races.

“You guys are too much, man.” He shakes his head in bewildered amusement. “Where do you even find stuff like that?”

Oscar smirks. “Parents have their ways.”

The joke takes on a life of its own, morphing from a silly gag into a full-blown inside joke, an ever-present reminder that someday, when you’re both ready, you really will have a baby of your own to dote on. For now, though, raising Rocky together is more than enough.

It really hits you one evening as the team celebrates Oscar’s latest podium finish. You’re sitting with a small group, letting the lively chatter of friends and team members wash over you, when you become aware of Oscar sitting across from you. He’s got Rocky nestled in the crook of his elbow, cooing nonsense as he gently jostles him.

“Who’s a good little guy? You are, that’s who. Gonna grow up big and strong like your dad, yeah?” His expression is so tender, so achingly soft, that you feel your heart swell fit to burst.

He’s going to be an incredible father someday, you realize with a jolt of startling clarity. Look at how natural it comes to him, how happy and content he seems, just cradling that silly rock.

Later that night, you find yourself curled around Oscar in bed, trailing feather-light kisses along the line of his throat. He hums deep in his chest, tangling one hand in your hair to tug you closer.

“Mmm, what was that for?”

“Nothing.” You prop your chin on his chest, drinking in the achingly handsome lines of his face. “You just … you’re gonna be such an amazing dad, you know that?”

A bashful smile tugs at his lips as his free hand smooths along the curve of your hip. “Yeah? You really think so?”

“I know so.” You reach out to trace the sharp line of his jaw with one fingertip. “Any kid would be lucky to have you.”

Oscar’s gaze softens to molten gold in the dim light. “Not nearly as lucky as we are to have you. You’re the best mum Rocky could’ve asked for.”

He kisses you then, deep and searing, pulling you flush against him as the world around you falls away. And when he finally breaks away, breathless but beaming, you know without a shadow of a doubt:

Whenever the time comes, whenever you meet your real baby … everything is going to be okay. More than okay.

Because you’ll have Oscar by your side, just like always. Your partner, your best friend, and the love of your life.

***

Five Years Later

You cradle your newborn daughter to your chest, gazing down at her perfect little face in pure wonderment. It’s only been a few hours since she made her entrance into the world, but you’re already hopelessly in love.

“She’s beautiful,” Oscar murmurs, voice thick with unshed tears as he brushes one reverent fingertip along her downy cheek. “Just like her mum.”

You lean into him, overcome. This right here — the two of you and your brand new baby girl — is everything you’ve ever wanted. All those years of loving Oscar, of dreaming about starting a family together … it was all leading to this shining moment.

A soft knock at the door breaks the tranquil silence. Oscar shoots you a quizzical look as a familiar face pokes his head in.

“This a bad time?” Lando grins crookedly. “I come bearing gifts for the little one.”

“Lando!” You can’t help but beam at the sight of your friend. “Get in here, you muppet.”

He slips inside, toeing off his shoes with a cheeky wink in your direction. “Well someone’s in a good mood. Can’t imagine why.”

“Are you kidding? I’m amazing. Completely knackered, but amazing.” You gesture for him to come closer with your free hand. “Here, come meet Oscar’s little co-driver.”

Lando’s expression melts into something unbearably soft as he peers down at the tiny bundle in your arms. “Aww, mate … she’s perfect. Well done, you two.”

“Do you, uh ...” Oscar clears his throat gruffly. “D’you want to hold her?”

For a moment, Lando looks almost scared, like a deer caught in the headlights. Then he nods jerkily, settling into the bedside chair with surprising care as you transfer your daughter into his arms. He cradles her close with the utmost tenderness, rocking her ever so slightly as she lets out the faintest sigh.

“Look at you,” he breathes, sounding utterly besotted already. “Just a teeny little thing, aren’t you?”

It’s like seeing an entirely different side of him, one you never could have anticipated. Not the cheeky, irreverent joker you’ve known for years, but a man, a friend, wholly disarmed by new life and possibility. You exchange a look with Oscar, heart fit to bursting.

“So,” Lando continues, still totally entranced by the baby. “I know we ribbed you mercilessly for a while there about the whole rock baby thing ...”

Your mouth falls open in recollection. “Lando, please don’t-”

But he’s already reaching into his jacket pocket to pull out a familiar splash of textured papaya. “But there’s no way I’d let my favorite nephew miss out on this.”

Rocky, battered and faded but unmistakable, sits nestled in Lando’s palm. You nearly choke on a startled laugh.

“Are you kidding me right now?”

“Hold up, there’s more.” Lando somehow manages to keep cradling the baby with one arm as he bends down with the other, hauling a plastic bucket onto the bed. You gape at the contents — dozens upon dozens of smooth pebbles, each one lovingly decorated in bright shades of orange.

“Had to get the whole family involved, didn’t I?” Lando says with a shameless grin. “She’s got loads of brothers and sisters to look after her now.”

You swat at him in a flood of exasperated affection. “You absolute prick. Look at you, being all sentimental.”

“Me? Never.” But the shine of unshed tears in his eyes contradicts the words. He transfers the baby back to you with exaggerated care, then takes a moment to stroke one gentle finger along her tiny cheek. “You’ve got one hell of a village behind you, little one.”

Over the next short while, Lando pulls up a chair and regales you all with outrageous stories and anecdotes, all while Rocky and his “siblings“ make the rounds, passed from person to person like favorite old friends. At one point, Oscar’s cradling your human baby in one arm and your original baby rock in the other, murmuring nonsense to them both as you blink back tears for what feels like the thousandth time that day.

“Look at you,” you say in awe, drinking in the sight. “My little family.”

Oscar meets your gaze over the top of your daughter’s head, his own eyes shining. “Our family,” he corrects softly.

You’re still reveling in that realization when a quiet knock sounds at the door. A nurse bustles in with an apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry, but we’re going to need to move the baby to the nursery soon. Just for a little while to let mum rest.”

Oh. You clutch your daughter closer on instinct, chest caving with an aching reluctance you weren’t expecting. How can you possibly bear to let her go already?

But then Lando slips an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into a warm embrace. “Oi, it’s alright. We’ll keep an eye on her for you, yeah? Give Uncle Lando and Mini Piastri some quality time.”

Rocky sits nestled in his other palm, as stalwart and patient as ever even after all these years. You nod quickly, swiping at your damp cheeks as you kiss your daughter’s downy head one last time before relinquishing her to the nurse.

“I’ll be right back, sweet girl. Don’t go growing too much while I’m gone.”

Watching her get wheeled away is harder than you could have imagined, like a physical ache in your chest. Oscar wraps you up in his arms from behind, steadying you with his usual quiet strength.

“She’s okay, babe,” he murmurs, lips brushing your hairline. “She’s just down the hall. We’re not going anywhere.”

You let his soothing words wash over you, turning into his embrace until your breathing evens out again. First lesson of parenthood learned — this part’s not easy. But you’ll get through it, just like everything else, with Oscar by your side.

Rocky sits on the bedside table, bold colors slightly faded but message as bright and clear as ever. A reminder that sometimes, the smallest, silliest things can take on the biggest meaning when it comes to family.

“Alright lovebirds,” Lando pipes up, slinging an arm around each of your shoulders. “What d’you say we bring the whole crew down to see the little miss soon, eh? Give her many uncles a chance to swoon all over her?”

You manage a watery chuckle, leaning into Lando’s side as Oscar tucks himself against your other side. Because this? This little patchwork family you’ve built around yourselves, kept close through all the chaos and the years? This is what it’s all about. The fierce loyalty, the bond forged by adversity and triumph and teamwork. The family you’ve chosen over and over again, year after year, through all of life’s twists and turns.

Your eyes drift to Rocky, resting quietly on the nightstand by your hospital bed. Once an inside joke, a silly gift from your husband to make you smile. Now a treasured heirloom, a precious mascot for the latest member of your ever-expanding clan.

Maybe you’ll hold onto that little rock for another few decades, you muse, draping one arm around Oscar’s trim waist. Long enough for your daughter — and any other little ones who may eventually join her — to grow up passing him between chubby baby fists. Long enough for your grandchildren to gather around and listen to stories about.

“Come on then,” you’ll say with an indulgent smile. “Let Granny tell you the story of Rocky. How he was the very first baby in our little family ...”

***

r/offmychest

u/NumberOneRockHater · 9h

My parents and entire family are convinced a ROCK is my older brother!

Okay, I have to get this off my chest because it’s been driving me crazy for years. My parents and extended family are all obsessed with this rock that they insist is my older brother “Rocky” (ugh, I know).

I’m talking full-on delusion levels here. Ever since before I was born, my dad got my mom this painted rock as a joke “baby”. Well, the joke escalated to the point where they started taking this rock everywhere, dressing it up in little outfits, calling it “him”, the whole nine yards.

At first I thought it was just a weird little quirk, you know? Silly but harmless. Except it never stopped. I’m 16 years old now and my PARENTS STILL REFER TO THIS ROCK AS MY SIBLING.

It’s always “Where’s your brother?” and “Did you pack Rocky’s bag for our trip?” and “Don’t forget to wish your brother a happy birthday!” My uncle (who is the WORST enabler) will show up to every family event pulling more painted rocks out of his pockets like “Look, more kids for you guys!”

Meanwhile I’m just standing there like a crazy person. How is nobody else concerned that my entire family has deluded themselves into believing a literal inanimate object is a sentient being?

And the real kicker? This dumb rock has been passed around and adored more than me, an actual human child. I have clear memories of being like 6 years old and my parents getting legitimately UPSET at me for dropping Rocky on the ground. While I’m standing right there!

My dad loves telling this stupid story about the day I was born, how my uncle showed up at the hospital like “I brought the baby’s siblings!” and pulled out an entire bucket of painted pebbles. PEBBLES, PEOPLE. As my “brothers and sisters”?

I’m honestly losing my mind here. No matter how much I protest or roll my eyes, they always play it off as a silly inside joke. Like yeah, I’m sure getting your knickers in a twist over my lack of acknowledgment for THE ROCK YOU NAMED AND CLAIM IS MY SIBLING is a totally normal thing to do! My mum actually teared up the last time I put my foot down, saying she could never abandon her “firstborn.” Um, hello? I was the firstborn, you weirdos!

At this point, I have to assume that either A) My parents and family are all certifiable and living in a shared psychosis, or B) This is some sort of Truman Show situational prank that I’m not in on.

Is it too late to be adopted by a normal family? Or do I need to be the one committed for dealing with this nonsense?

Please tell me I’m not actually going insane here. Anybody else have a family this completely deluded?

u/NosyAndProud · 8h

LOL no way, your family sounds hilarious! I’m dying at the image of your poor teen self dealing with this ongoing rocky sibling chronicle. But in their defense, you’ve gotta admit it’s a pretty creative way to memorialize a dumb inside joke, right?

My advice? Lean into it. Get your big brother an outfit for the next family gathering. Play fight with “him” in front of your friends and horrify them. TP the house and blame it on Rocky’s delinquent behavior. The possibilities for messing with everyone are endless!

Reply from u/NumberOneRockHater · 6h

I’m honestly crying, your suggestions have me wheezing! Although if I DID embrace this, I’m pretty sure my uncle would lose his mind. He’s already brought enough “rock siblings” for an entire pebble daycare at this point.

u/JudgingLoudly · 7h

This is sending me! I’m just imagining you as a little kid, trying to argue with your parents about why inanimate objects can’t actually be siblings. And them being full-on “Well ackshually, this is Rocky your brother” 🤓☝️

But also lowkey it’s kinda sweet? I mean objectifying nonliving things is usually a bad idea (see every Disney movie ever). But if it’s just a quirky tradition that brings your family joy and makes them feel special, who are we to judge? You only get one weird childhood!

Reply from u/NumberOneRockHater · 5h

Yes, exactly! It was always “But Rocky will be so disappointed if you don’t share your toys with him!” Like … what?

And don’t get me wrong, they’re wonderful parents and we’re a very close, loving family. That’s what makes this particular shared psychosis so baffling! Just a big ol’ collective break from reality to obsess over this stupid rock, I guess.

u/LiveForDrama · 4h

Ok but real talk, I would give ANYTHING to have been a fly on the wall when your uncle first unveiled the “siblings” 💀 I’m picturing this grown man deadass pulling pebbles out of his pockets and ceremoniously announcing “Here’s baby Pumice, and little Granite, and this one is called Basalt ...”

And your parents were just like “Why, HELLO THERE LITTLE ONES! WHAT DELIGHTFUL NEW ADDITIONS TO OUR BROOD!” Just … no questions asked. No commentary on the total insanity. God, I love families.

Reply from u/NumberOneRockHater · 3h

You have NO idea. I still have flashbulb memories of being like 10 years old, walking into the living room to find my GROWN-ASS UNCLE lying on the floor, lining up those idiotic pebbles and introducing them one by one.

Meanwhile my dad is on the couch COOING at them and having full-on conversations like “Isn’t that right, little fella? Your uncle just loves to spoil you, doesn’t he?” MY BRAIN COULD NOT COMPUTE.

u/GlassHalfFull · 2h

Ok, gotta say … as someone raised by very boring, no-nonsense parents, I’m just a lil bit jealous of the sheer unrestrained WHIMSY your family has cultivated here.

Like, you’ll always have this hilarious shared experience to look back on! Sure it’s a rock, but it’s THEIR rock, you know? That’s beautiful in a weird way. At least your childhood wasn’t mind-numbing evenings full of tax documents and khaki pantsuits?

Reply from u/NumberOneRockHater · 1h

Haha, you make a good point! I definitely can’t say my childhood was dull, that’s for sure. Although I do have traumatic memories of losing Rocky at a rest stop when I was 5, and my parents freaking out for hours until we found him under a vending machine. Totally normal.

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whimsyeo · 2 days

Text

pretty little thing

જ⁀➴ park seonghwa x fem!reader

❝you knew there must be another side to him. one with needs and wants and hidden desires. you couldn't help but wonder what that side might look like.❞

wc; 2.4k

cw; mdni, nerd!seonghwa, college au, SMUT, first time together, established relationship, soft dom hwa, thigh riding, slight praise kink, dacryphila, unprotected sex, overuse of pet names, hwa in glasses (a warning of its own)

notes; i hope you all enjoy♡

🎧 all mine by plaza + hrs & hrs by muni long

When you first met Park Seonghwa, you hadn't thought much of him. Other than he was devastatingly beautiful, with the kind of smile you'd expect sweet woodland creatures to flock to and a soft spoken voice that matched absolutely everything else about him. His long wavy hair curling onto his reddened cheeks and big round eyes, and his perfectly color coordinated attire. The only thing that even could possibly take away from it all were the large black rimmed glasses he wore everyday. Too big for his face, really, with the way they were constantly slipping down his nose.

They were just as clumsy as the rest of his endearingly awkward demeanor. His sheepish half smiles when you complimented his outfits and stuttered apologies after accidentally bumping into you in the halls. Everything about Seonghwa was exactly that. Endearing.

So sweet your teeth physically hurt. So cute, a constant smile remained on your face even hours after your shared elective class ended. You felt yourself fall rather quickly for the shy, darling film studies major. Enamored by his ramblings about the Star Wars franchise over lunch and the animal crossing stickers decorating his laptop case.

He wasn't the type you'd normally go for, not at all. He couldn't be more different, really. Seonghwa looked like a doll in comparison to the almost rugged quality of your previous exes. Where they were rough edges and blatant arrogance, he was all kind eyes and soft lines. Tender and pure and all things good in the world.

You didn't dare let yourself believe you had him fully figured out - it was much to early to say that exactly - but you felt you had a pretty good idea. Especially after you ended up being the one to ask him out, following his many failed attempts at getting the words out for himself. Only to then end up helping him recollect the folders he had dropped in surprise at your offer as he struggled out a flustered and enthusiastic yes.

You knew there must be something more to him. Not in a bad way by any means - in the time you'd come to know Seonghwa, you'd come to trust that a bad bone didn’t exist inside his body. But more so, another side to him. One with needs and wants and hidden desires. You couldn't help but wonder what that side might look like.

You caught a glimpse, eventually. On a night your dinner plans ran later than usual as you two sat under the setting sun hours after your plates had been cleared, eventually having to be run off by the workers who needed to close up shop. The night still didn't end for you two even then, and somehow you wound up in the backseat of Seonghwa's car, straddling his lap as you kissed each other with a ferocity that seemed to have come out of nowhere.

Seonghwa had started it, a short staring match that led to him kissing you with a fever you hadn't expected him to possess. With it came his hands wandering the expanse of your torso, touching and squeezing like at any minute you could disappear from his grasp. You certainly don't plan on it, but after a while you do have to pull back to catch your breath.

While your chest is heaving, you catch sight of it. A certain fire in Seonghwa's eyes that wasn't there only moments ago. His gaze on you feels scolding hot as he trails his eyes over you, appearing much like a starved man ready to dive in. He doesn't, that night at least. He suggests you both turn in for the day and continue this another time. You pout, and he laughs and kisses it away, but stands by his word.

You gather that Seonghwa didn't want your first time together to be in his car, of all places, so you offer a weekend movie night as a sort of compromise. He agrees with a knowing smile.

It doesn't last long. You can't focus on whatever classic romance film Seonghwa picked out, even if any other time you would've gladly listen to his thoughts and critics about the storyline. Today, you only have one thing on your mind, and it appears Seonghwa does to.

It doesn't take very long to wind up with your pants discarded on the floor, Seonghwa's hands holding either side of your hips as you pathetically rut against the fabric of his jeans with a desperation you've never quite felt before.

He's still the same Seonghwa. Dressed to the nines even on such a causal hangout with you, although his newspaper boy hat has since been removed in your haste to run your fingers through his hair only moments ago. His same, unruly raven locks are now framing his face in a way that shouldn't be as flattering of a picture as it is.

It's the same Seonghwa, with the same oversized, black rimmed glasses currently sliding down his face. Your heart almost physically aches from wanting so bad to reach out and push them back up his nose bridge.

"Pretty baby," he coos, a feather like touch dragging along your jaw. Seonghwa loved calling you that. Pretty. "You could probably come just like this, hmm? You'd love it, too, wouldn't you?"

The movie he'd put on earlier is still running behind you. It had barley started before you found yourself in this exact position. Seonghwa's hardly even done anything, but your mind is almost drifting from you as your struggle to register his questions, and the verbal response you realize he's expecting.

"Y-yes," you manage, only to hope like hell it's enough.

No praise, just a nod, but he doesn't click his tongue either. You whine high in your throat. Barely enough.

"Show me then, pretty," he instructs so casually. "Come for me, just like this."

The demand causes a swoop in your lower stomach, lurching you embarrassingly closer to that high your so desperately chasing. You can't bring your hips to slow down, but you have to let him know what you actually want.

"But-but," you start, already feeling your eyes going damp. It should be embarrassing that Seonghwa could so easily bring you to tears without ever lifting a finger. "I want you... inside. When I cum."

Seonghwa nods slowly, his saccharine smile now seeming almost mocking, "I'll give you what you want, angel. I'm not done with you yet."

At that, it doesn't take more than a few more seconds for your hips to stutter as your climax crashes down on you. You ride out your high in slow motions that are almost entirely helped by his hold on your hips. Even as your movements stop, his doesn't, and you whimper from the sensitivity of your core against his now thoroughly soaked pants.

"Sorry," you mutter a little sadly, once your grounded slightly back to Earth. "About your pants."

Seonghwa laughs lowly, his thumbs rubbing circles on your hips, "You're okay, baby. Don't apologize."

You're sure you are already red in the face, your cheeks tingling from the heat and your unsteady breathing but the way he's staring up at you certainly doesn't help your case in the slightest.

He brings one hand up to cup your face, pulling you down to meet his soft lips. The taste of his usual strawberry lip balm still remains, despite all the kissing you've done earlier in the night. You had no reason not to believe Seonghwa didn't constantly smell of fresh fruit and vanilla. A fatal combo that caused a painful twist in your chest - he was always so sweet, even like this. Bright shining eyes glazed over with a certain haze that still didn't take at all away from his usual gentle touches and adoring words.

"Lay down for me," he directs when you pull away, his soft breath fanning over your bottom lip.

Like it's your only calling, you scramble to follow his orders. Nearly falling off his lap and onto the floor entirely in your haste. He, in contrast, moves much slower. Taking his absolute time on every button of his shirt while his intense watch on you never wavers.

Before entirely undressing himself, he helps you remove your ruined panties and finishes pulling your crinkled shirt over your head. You lay bare in front of his approving gaze as he rakes up and down your figure, back to your face and back down again.

"Pretty little thing," he mumbles, his voice sounding impossibly deeper to your love stricken ears. He runs an open palm down the expanse of your side. "All mine."

You nod, so quick you're positive your hair is nothing more than a mess sprayed across the cushions. Seonghwa grins at your eagerness and rewards you by moving his hand to cup your core.

It's a light touch, hardly any pressure applied at all, but you simply can't help the moan that leaves you. From the sensitivity and the bone deep craving for his touch that you haven't felt where you truly needed it until now.

His thumb makes lazy circles of your clit as he watches your every expression with keen interest. You wonder if it shows on your face just how hard your fighting not to buck up into his touch to seek even more friction. Take what he gives you, you tell yourself. As quickly as Seonghwa could bring you pleasure, he could just as easily take it away.

He easily slips one finger into you, and a second after only a few lone pumps of his hand. You hold his stare with some difficulty as the pleasure builds, that same ball of heat beginning to build within you.

Then just like that, he takes it away. You could almost cry, but you realize what's coming.

"Please," you beg, despite knowing you don't really have to. Maybe you're just hoping to break his resolve as much as he's completely destroyed yours - make him as rushed and desperate as you feel right now.

Seonghwa shushes you softly, rubbing the inside of your thigh, "I got you, pretty."

You all but melt, trusting and believing his words with a baited breath. It still feels like forever until he's dragging the head of his cock along your folds. You squirm despite yourself, craving for absolutely anything more, and he finally gives in.

The stretch is pleasant, overwhelming in the best way possible. Your mouth falls open in a silent cry as he takes his absolute time. Your torn between relishing in the feeling and begging him to hurry up.

You decide on neither before he's entirely bottomed out, and he keeps himself there while you adjust to the feeling. Your mouth opening and closing with no sensible words coming to mind.

"How do you feel, pretty?" He asks, sounding completely put together and collected and everything you're not at the moment.

"Good. Full," you eventually say, the words sounding broken to even your own ears. You've never been so turned on in your life. "You can move."

He studies your expression for another passing moment, "You're sure?"

You nod, and the first sign of his resolve crumbles. His props his arms up by either side of your head as he begins fucking into you, a languid pace that you can't tell is for your sake or by his choice. You lean towards the latter, as all too soon you realize it's not enough.

"More, please," you tell him, your hands finding purchase on his shoulders. "Faster."

Seonghwa's gaze lifts up to study your face, a half smirk playing on his lips, "What, am I not giving my baby enough now?"

You would have never thought after your first meeting with Seonghwa that he would have such a mouth on him. That you would ever be on the receiving end of his desire, much less, or that it would look at all like this.

"Please, Hwa," you all but beg, feeling the first tear slip down your face.

Seonghwa cooes, bringing one of his hands to delicately wipe at your cheek. He looks so pleased, his own breathing even-keeled much unlike your own.

He hums in mock thought, "Okay, love. If you're sure."

Almost too quickly, Seonghwa switches to pounding into you at a surprising pace. Your jaw falls open in a cut off gasp while Seonghwa finally starts letting sounds of pleasure fall from his own mouth.

Unable to bare having him so close yet not close enough for a moment longer, you pull him down until your chests are flush against one another. Slipping your fingers through his hair, you use the newfound hold to bring your lips together messily. As if trying to match his hurry, you kiss him absolutely breathless, until his chest is heaving nearly as much as yours.

Seonghwa is the first to pull away this time, refusing to travel far and he keeps his forehead pressed against yours. Already, you feel another climax building up in you, and you know you won't last much longer.

"Close," you manage between moans and gasps, his pace unforgiving and filling you up just right.

He nods against you, his free hand coming up to guide your lips to his for another brief peck, "I got you, pretty. Let go for me."

It really doesn't take much more than that. Still, Seonghwa brings his fingers down to rub at your clit, the overwhelming sensation nearly causing you to jerk away from his touch. Your high crashes down on you in mere seconds, and you imagine Seonghwa's must follow quickly suit, as a strangled groan falls from his lips in tandem above you.

You catch your breath for a moment, reeling a bit from having possibly the most intense orgasm of your life. Eventually you recognize the feeling of gentle kisses being left all over your face when two are pressed over your closed eyelids. You blink them open, coming to meet Seonghwa's glowing grin first thing.

"There's my pretty girl," he practically whispers. You feel like you could cry all over again, but now for an entirely different reason. "Was that... okay?"

The same Seonghwa, with a thought crease between his brows and his glasses slipping down his face once more. This time, you don't hesitate. You bring your arm up to push the bridge up his nose, leaving your hand there to cup the side of his face. Your Seonghwa is all the same.

"Perfect, Hwa," you assure him, beaming back just as brightly. “You were perfect.”

#whimsyworks #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa smut #seonghwa x you #ateez x reader #ateez smut #park seonghwa x reader #park seonghwa x you #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #seonghwa imagines

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trulyhblue · 2 days

Text

STARGIRL

Georgia Stanway x Reader

Warnings — smut 18+, buildup, mean! Boyfriend! Kind of toxic! Georgia, dom/sub dynamics, drinking, partying, jealousy, strap, millie bright hate but not hate but pls I love you millie bright so flirt with me x, kind of dumb reader but like she actually doesn't know, praise kink, degradation kink, breeding kink.

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Your dress had hitched to an unethical height, but the state of your tipsiness provoked a desolated ignorance accompanied by the thunderous beat of the club. Grace was behind you, swaying her hips with yours, the two of you celebrating your most recent win with the Lionesses.

The room was crowded with dancing bodies, mashed together with the concoction of sweat, alcohol, and oblivion. You had seen Less, Ella and Niamh nearby only a while ago, and an ample group of your teammates were sitting in the back corner surrounded by a booth, projecting their triumph in the form of the burn down their throats, the drinks they nursed holding to a product of victory.

“Ugh, I'm so sweaty,” Grace whined, loud enough in order to be heard over the booming rave. “I need a drink.”

“Same, let's go.” You nodded, feeling the girl’s hands snake around your waist, pulling you closer to her figure as the crowd collapsed further into your figure.

The two of you sauntered through the crowd, giggling at the mob of people struggling to find enough space to properly function. Your cheeks were stained a vibrant pink from the flush of adrenaline. Grace was humming along to the tune in your ear, her arms still holding onto you tightly so that you wouldn't lose each other.

It wasn't often that the team went out for drinks, especially not the likes of such a mix of the different friend groups. Lucy and Keira weren't set to go back to Spain for another three days, and most of the girls would seek refuge in the comfort of their own beds tonight, as the match held in Wembley sought itself in the midst of the WSL.

Georgia and you were set to leave for Munich two days from now after spending the last two weeks preparing and playing for your national team here in England. While Gee had transferred from City a while ago, you had only just moved to Bayern from Chelsea, where someone like Grace had become your closest friend in the WSL. As one of the younger players on the team, you wanted to make sure the debutant felt welcome and comfortable in the senior squad, despite her training with the team long before her match debut.

Over the last couple of months, you had been working really hard in order to aid your club to victory, but after the nasty blow in the Champions League, and some defeats sprinkled here and there throughout the season, this night was long awaited.

Once Grace and you had finally woven your way through, you were quick to find refuge on Georgia’s lap, leaving Grace to sit on the opposite side of the booth next to Mary. Gee found her hands secured on your waist, ignoring the way your hips wiggled in her lap.

“Having fun, are we?” She asked, watching as you hummed in reply, taking it upon yourself to take a sip of her drink. You failed to notice your girlfriend's fimble hands tugging down the fabric of your skirt, hiding the notion by massaging your thighs and kissing your exposed shoulder.

The enriching taste of lemonade made you turn to straddle her, holding the drink up to her lips while the straw was still lingering close to yours.

“You’re not drinking?”

“I’m driving us back, baby.” Gee shook her head. “Do you want me to get you another drink?”

You thought to yourself before slowly reaching down to where your girlfriend’s collar met her throat, toying with the cloth in your hands before pressing your lips to her pulse point, letting her take the drink, placing it back on the table as you ran your tongue along the column of her throat.

“Y/N, baby.” You heard Gee mutter. You lifted your hips off her lap, combing your hair out of your face as you counted to speckled freckles on Georgia’s cheeks. She took out her wallet, handing you her card. “Do you ‘wanna go buy yourself something? The girls and I were ‘gonna go play pool over there if you want to meet us there.”

“Do you want anything?” Shaking her head in reply, keeping a prolonged stare down the trajectory of your low-cut top. You tugged at the bottom of her shirt, letting your hands roam freely across the waistband of her trousers. Rocking your hips, you found Grace already standing behind you, grabbing your hands and leading you over to the bar.

It wasn't unusual for Georgia to brush off your public affection like that, especially when you were obviously tipsy, and the lingering eyes of your friends were all at your disposal. If you had kissed her in a secluded corner of this club, she would've taken you up against the nearest wall as fast as she could. She had been eyeing that dress — or moreso the skin it was hardly concealing — and wanting so desperately to take you home and show you how much she loved you.

The games against Sweden and Italy were both masterclasses on your behalf, and Georgia was merely waiting for the right time to reward you for scoring in both of them.

“You need to get a room.” Grace teased, her eyes peering back to where Georgia shamelessly looked at your arse. “No wonder the fans found out so quickly.”

You turned to face the younger girl, a smirk adorned on your face. “Two months was a struggle in itself.”

Gee and you had tried to keep your relationship well out of the media. But after your move to Munich, and a few too many proper English celebrations, the media had caught on to your affection and adoration for each other far too quickly than what you had hoped. Nevertheless, both of you sprinkled your private lives into your Instagram every once and a while. Save some photos of you that Georgia was not willing to share with the world.

“No, I know.” She replied, pivoting through the crowd. “But it's cute. Traumatic for me… But cute.”

You used Georgia’s card to buy yourself and her two lemonades and Grace a drink of her own. Grace’s regard for your relationship was an unusual sentiment because while you strived to hold your private life out of the fame and publicity of football, there was an inevitable spark between the two of you that fans caught onto long before you ever thought of Georgia in the way you do now.

Despite what is displayed, you were two very reserved people, with Georgia being the more talkative of the two of you when it came to interviews. You loved your social life — your friends both at home and away. However, there were many differences that distinguished a shift in personas.

You liked to push the boundaries. If you could test your luck, it was impossible to tempt you otherwise. Georgia liked routine. You didn't mind testing the waters and going with the flow. Life was more enjoyable that way.

At least for you.

Georgia had watched you make your way to the bar, hoping you’d return with something a lot less strong than what you had been downing previously. Grace was hung by your side, the younger woman holding onto your arm with giggles leaving her lips. Gee waited for you to inch down your skirt before following Mary and the others over to where Leah was lining up for a game of pool.

“Any reason you're easing off the drinks tonight, Stanway?”

Millie was lingering by the group, nursing her own drink while Rach and Lucy talked beside her. Georgia shrugged, moving her hands to her pockets as she watched Leah take the first shot against Keira.

“I'm driving home.”

Millie snorted. “Will you make it home?”

If Gee was drinking, she would've choked. “What?”

“Well, you were pretty much eating each other’s faces off just before. Figured you couldn't wait.”

Georgia shrugged again. She wasn't too keen on the conversation, especially when the topic didn't deem either you or her in the highest regard. Everyone knew that Georgia wasn't into that type of PDA, but it was also noted that given the right reasons, she’d be worse than you.

“You’re a lucky one, Gee.” The Chelsea Defender clapped the Midfielder on the back, downing the rest of her drink. “Enjoy your night.”

Millie left Georgia to stand a few feet away from the rest of the group — leaving her to mull over her teammate’s words. For some reason, she couldn't shake Millie’s comments off. What did she mean — enjoy your night? What was she implying? Of course, she was going to enjoy her night with her girlfriend. Of course Gee was lucky, but why was Millie saying that? Normally, these comments were used as a compliment, and with Millie’s best intentions, everyone knew she was only pure. But when Georgia saw the way the Chelsea player flung her arm over your shoulder upon your return, talking down at you amid the booming music, something in Georgia flicked.

Everyone had gotten progressively more drunk as the night went on, but you were fully immersed in the way everyone was interacting, holding your own conversation with Millie, who was going on about some football thing happening at Chelsea.

Leah was swearing at Keira, who was cheekily laughing away at the ratio of her balls to Leah’s left in the game. You had left Georgia’s drink in front of you, and you continued to keep it by your side as you watched the bickering between Lee and Keira transpire.

“You're a right cheat, Walsh, go home.” Williamson quipped, shoving Keira playfully by the shoulder. The Barcelona player poked out her tongue, jabbing the Arsenal protege's side. “Oh, cry me a river, Leah. You're just a sore losers who’s downright shit.”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

“Oh, piss off.”

“You first.”

“Right give someone else a go!” Lucy called, her accent slightly rasped and slurred. She scanned the room, looking straight across to where you and Millie stood. “Go on, you two. Show ‘em how to play normally.”

You felt yourself sober up a little from the attention of everyone’s stares. You felt your ears go a bit red, shaking your head by the time Millie had already picked up her cue.

“I'm no good at it.” You spoke.

Georgia watched you saunter over to the side of the table, using your arms to lean, stabilising your ditzy figure. She could tell by the blush across your face that you had sobered up significantly, but she knew that the alcohol still held a prominent hold over you.

“It’ll be an easy win for me then, gorgeous.” Millie taunted, readying herself for the first shot. You shook your head, caving by grabbing the spare cue Keira was holding, all while Georgia looked on with her hands fisted in her pockets.

She wasn't usually the type to get like this. Georgia and you held great independence in your respective lives. Both of you enjoyed letting the other do stuff without the prodding of the other. You trusted each other too much to breach any boundaries, but if there was one thing Georgia had trouble keeping to herself, it was her jealousy.

Millie took the first hit, causing the object balls to cascade across the green fabric. Leah was standing behind you, muttering something into your ear. You stood there with your figure half leaning against her, the other half fidgeting with the cue.

“Wait, so, I don't remember-”

“Well, don't be asking Leah for advice,” Keira’s teasing voice came from nearby. “She’ll just tell you how to lose.”

Leah looked utterly exasperated, glaring at her best friend with annoyance plastered across her face. “Oh, give it up, Walsh, will you?”

“Alright, Milton Keynes, it's okay to admit defeat, y’know.”

The England Captain marched over to a laughing Keira, punching the girl’s shoulder. Everyone watched in amusement when Keira retaliated, using her arms to poke Leah in the ribs.

You were left fiddling with the stick, laughing along at the sight in front of you while internally pondering. You had never properly played pool before — obviously with friends, of course, but never taking it as far as playing by the rules. You had no idea what strategy to use, or what ball you were meant to hit. It wasn't like anyone cared, but the perfectionist in you just couldn't wrap your head around it.

“Give it here.”

It wasn't until you felt familiar arms wrap themselves around your waist, pulling you instantly closer to her hips. You let yourself fall limp against her, chewing on your bottom lip as you stared at the game you were clueless at.

“I don't know how to play.” You spoke, handing the cue to your girlfriend, who took the stick from you, moving her head down to your shoulder, letting her breath fan over your neck as she spoke.

“How ‘bout I show you then, hm? I’ll teach you.”

You sighed at the goosebumps running down your neck, nodding as Gee kept you in front of her, maneuvering the two of you in a way that made it possible for her to play while keeping your arse against her hips. You watched as Millie made the next move. Georgia waited for a moment, letting everything station before proceeding. With one arm circled around your waist, she bent over to make the next move. You felt her body press into yours, stuck between the table and her.

After her shot, she slotted back upright. She leant down once more, combing back the loose hairs that framed your face.

“How are you feeling, Baby?”

Her voice was deeper, more grounded by the time of night.

You couldn't help but look up at her, licking your lips as you nodded. “Good, why?”

Georgia held your hips, moving them so that they were glued to the table. “Just wondering, pretty girl.”

Her body loomed over yours, her arms sanctioned on either side of you as Millie thought through her next move. You tried to conceal your neediness, the feeling of Georgia’s body pressed against yours sending heat down your spine. “Gee.”

“What is it, baby?”

You struggled to focus, hoping Millie would hurry up so that Georgia would move away from her unrelenting pressure.

You managed to swallow your whine as her hand moved to fondle your thigh. “Nothing.”

It was soon Georgia’s turn, the game becoming more fluent as both sides successfully slotted in balls left and right. Though, as the game went on, you could feel your girlfriend grow more and more handsy. After every shot, she’d kiss the alcove of your neck, whispering a sweet nothing about how you looked, or the way you felt against her, that was borderline testing the innocence she often preserved out in public.

“Looking so good tonight, darling…”

“Can't believe you're all mine, babygirl…”

“So perfect for me, all to myself…”

In between turns, Georgia let you lean on her, loving the way you sighed at every ounce of affection she would give you, making sure it was obvious enough for Millie to catch on, while discrete enough for you to not feel like it was truly public for anyone to actually notice.

You nearly lost it when she slotted her hand in between your thighs and squeezed them while you kept a watchful eye on the game in front of you. Her body covered your back, hiding her obvious display of desire by letting you push your arse against her front.

“Feel so good, don't you?”

“Georgia, please.”

“You're doing so well, baby. Might have to reward you for being so good.”

You should've known that she would keep a straight face the whole time, refusing to give you the reaction you so desperately hungered for by the ache between your legs. You had tried everything as she massaged your shoulders, and whispered passive teasing that sent shivers down your neck. Despite your honest belief that Georgia was unfazed by your antics, she made it clear that your actions were heard when she dug her hands into your hips.

She had beaten Millie by an easy mile, though she did not bother to make any celebration, instead looking down at you, grabbing the back of your neck and kissing you softly.

“Can we go, Gee?”

“Why, baby?” She asked, a knowing smirk plastered across her lips.

You whined for the first time that night, making sure Georgia heard it by lifting yourself up to her height. “Just want you right now.”

“Want me? But I'm right here.”

“Georgia, please. I need your help.”

That was enough for Georgia to bid everyone good night, sending farewells as quickly as she could while you tried to forget about the growing arousal in your core. By the time you had both gotten into the empty car park, your lips had started to attack hers. Georgia pretty much coerced you into the car, moving the driver's seat all the way back so that you could sit comfortably on her lap.

She shut the door promptly, knowing that her tinted windows were enough to hide the way her hands played with your arse, your clit immediately rubbing against her hips.

You started tugging off your shirt, leaving your breasts on full display. Georgia couldn't even register the sight before you grabbed one of her hands, pulling it towards your nipple, groaning at the way she pinched it.

“Where is your phone?” You uttered, moving your chest closer to Georgia so that your tits were pretty much in her face. She took one of your nipples in her mouth, moaning when you moved your breasts around her face, making them bounce erratically with the lack of bra you had worn. She grabbed her phone from her back pocket, handing it to you without a second thought. You didn't waste any time in pushing back, opening the device before swiping to the camera, hastily pressing play on the video, and moving the phone so that it showed your tits in Georgia’s mouth on full display.

“You’re such a good girl for me.” She groaned. “So thoughtful, aren't you? Gonna watch this when you're not with me. Need to see these tits every day, don't I? Gonna watch you every day.”

“Need you to fuck me, baby. Need your cum in me so bad.”

You grabbed the top button on her shirt, moaning out when Georgia grabbed both of your tits, sitting upright and playing with both of them with her mouth and hands. Her cold rings pressed into the delicate skin of you nipples, the distant pain of her pinches making you squirm irresistibly in her lap. Your skirt had ridden up to your hips, where your g-string went exposed to the camera’s lense.

You moved across to the console, using your spare hand that wasn't tugging Georgia’s hair to find a hair elastic, though you graw impatient when Gee stopped kissing your breasts for you neck. Instead, she found the all-too-familiar toy hidden neatly underneath the lube you definitely wouldn't need, and you moaned as your hand squeezed around the strap that you pulled out once Georgia pinched your nipple once more.

“Haven't used this one before.” Your girlfriend whispered, nibbling dark, callous marks across your neck. “Bit too big for your small little hole, darling. It can't fit, can't it?”

“Try it, please.” You muttered, unbuttoning the woman’s pants and letting them fall to the floor. You buckled the harness around her waist to the best of your ability, giving up when Georgia took over, letting you discard the short, flimsy fabric of your skirt. “Make it fit.”

“You're so desperate for my cum, aren't you darling?” She rutted, fastening the harness so the strap only just missed your folds. “Want me to fill you up with kids so bad, don't you? Want me to make you full and pregnant, yeah?”

You moaned. “Want to have your babies inside of me. Fill me up, please. So bad, baby. Need your help cause it aches.”

Georgia bunched your hair up into a makeshift pony, pushing you down so that your mouth hovered over the strap. Your arse in the air, your tits kneaded by your own hands. Georgia moaned at the sight of you so desperate, the notion of the camera recording making it all the more sporadic.

You wasted no time licking the dick, holding the base of the silicone toy with one hand, hollowing your cheeks as you sucked the tip and first quarter of the strap in your mouth. Gee pulled your hair, letting you move up and down on her dick. The vibrations of your gagging mixed with moans made her sigh at her newfound, growing release.

“Fuck, keep going, Y/N.” She groaned. “Just like that.”

You continued until tears pricked your eyes. You could tell by the way Georgia’s grip on your scalp tightened and your tongue flicked along the tip, your cheeks hollowing and allowing more of the strap to fill your throat. It didn't take long until Georgia’s breathing had staggered. Short, uneven breaths mixed with erratic sweet nothings. You pushed yourself down her dick one last time, feeling Gee’s body collapse from all tension as her orgasm washed over her. You pulled yourself up, wiping the spit and cum off your face with your fingers, prodding them towards your mouth. Georgia watched you lick them clean, rolling your head back at the taste alongside the subtle pang of your throat.

The car windows were not only tinted but misted due to the humidity inside the vehicle. Your hips shadowed the strap, Georgia falling back into the rhythm of toying with your hips, kneading them as she kissed your neck.

You could feel the ache between your legs grow at the sight of your girlfriend beneath you, maneuvering you to where she wanted you most, giving you incredible amounts of pleasure at your disposal. You were starting to moan at the simplest of movements like the way she gripped your hips, or the way she licked over the bruises down your neck and chest. The last piece of clothing you had on was your underwear, Georgia now discarding her shirt so that you were both in states of nudity. Sweat beaded from your forehead.

Your legs started shaking from the mere want for the woman below you. It didn't take you long for your desire to take over as you grabbed one of Gee’s hands, slipping it down your stomach and along the fabric of your underwear. You painstakingly pushed her hand underneath, letting her move her fingers up and down your folds. The slick covered them instantly, and she rolled her head back when you began to rock on her hand.

“Do you feel how wet I am, baby?” You asked, Georgia nodded. She watched you bounce up and down, grateful at the way Gee pushed one of her fingers into you, letting you ride it in short pulsates. You whimpered when she entered her second finger, crying out when she entered her third. Georgia took one of your breasts in her mouth, groaning as you bobbed up and down. You felt your pussy clench around her, your arousal coating her fingers each time you pushed deeper into your strategic strokes. Georgia continued to hold one of your hips, helping your shaking legs hold yourself up as you neared your climax.

“Fuck, you're such a slut, aren't you?” Georgia uttered, her fourth finger nudging your clit as you sunk in once more. You rocked yourself back and forth now, relishing the way your nub ran itself over her hand, the coil in your core tightening as your climax neared.

“Grinding on me at the pool table cause you're so needy for me… everyone could tell that you just wanted me inside you. You made sure to show everyone who you belonged to.”

You were a blabbering mess. Your stokes became sloppy, your legs non-stop shaking as your body tensed at the pleasure running through you. Georgia curled her fingers inside of you, assaulting your clit as you struggled to keep your pace. There was no way you could reply as all your thoughts were focused on the sounds of your juices being leaked out from your hole, Georgia’s fingers forcing them in and out as she spoke to you in rasps. Your noises became pornographic, and you no longer cared about the thought of someone hearing you.

“Need me to do everything for you. I didn't even need to fuck you dumb. All I need to do is bend you over.”

You could finally feel your orgasm washing over you when Georgia pulled her fingers out, laughing at your instant cry out.

“Aw, baby.” She muttered, wiping your sweaty flyaways out of your face, tears fell from your eyes, your cheeks reddening as you fell onto her lap, your legs no longer able to hold you up. You looked down at your girlfriend, finding no remorse on her smug face.

“Why didn't you cum, pretty girl?” She tutted, pulling your body up from her chest so it was exposed to her view. You shook your head, fully dumbfounded at her actions. It wasn't like you had done anything wrong.

“I— Gee— I’ve been good.”

You sounded pathetic. Normally, if you had been a brat, you’d have said that as a joke to put on an innocent facade and get the sex you had desperately craved. You would pretend to be nice and suck her dick or eat her out just because you had done something to provoke it. There were countless times when Gee had edged you for doing something provocative, but tonight you had no idea why she had done it.

“Really, baby? You think so?” You looked at her with the saddest eyes you could muster. “You sure you've been good all night?”

In terms of your sex life, you had your fair share of dominant and submissive moments, but with Georgia, you found yourself subbing out to new extremes. Your girlfriend would do anything for you, on and off the pitch. You could act dumb and she’d fuck it out of you. You would fall over on the pitch, cry out even if it was a fair play, and Georgia would be the one receiving the yellow for defending you. When you were at a bar, or anywhere for the matter, and felt someone look at you in even the slightest wrong way, Gee would hold you in front of her and make sure you were always safe in her arms.

But Georgia could be mean, even if you hadn't necessarily done anything to make her mean. She usually got like this when you had hugged someone for too long, or made a joke about yourself that she thought was too far.

That made it all click.

“Are you jealous?”

Georgia scoffed, rolling her eyes. “You can't flirt with Bright then bend over for me two minutes later.”

She grabbed your waist and lifted you, switching positions so that you were lying in the driver’s seat and she was hovering above you.

“I wasn't flirting. I was talking.” You moaned at the contact of the strap’s tip brushing against your folds, moving up and down as Georgia’s hands massaged your arse.

“She called you gorgeous, you know.” You felt her breath fan over your face, her lips ghosting down your neck. “Said I should enjoy my night with you.”

“She did?” It was probably not the right way to phrase that response, but it didn't seem to phase Georgia anyway. “We were just talking, Geor-”

“I bet she wouldn't fuck you as good.” Georgia spat, using one hand to circle your clit. You threw your head back, moaning at the small discomfort from your prior denied orgasm, writhing at the sudden pressure on your sensitive nub. “If I showed her all the videos of you screaming my name I doubt she’d try that shit again.”

“Georgia…”

“What videos would I show her, hm?” Georgia started dragging one of her fingers into your pussy, beginning with slow, painful strokes that squelched with the sound of your juices. “Maybe she’d like the mirror one. Y’know, when we won against Wolfsburg and I fucked you in the bathroom?”

“Fuck, please Gee.”

“You were so hot in that one… bent over like the slut you are… came three times for your three goals.” She added the second finger in now, speeding up just a smidge all while kissing over your chest. “Do you think she’d like if I sent that one?”

You moaned at the third finger, tears pricking your eyes as Georgia entered your pussy hard and fast, enjoying your pleas and begs through mindless mumbles. You were so far gone that everything she was saying was only making you closer. The sound of her voice was enough to help you closer to release.

“Or maybe I should send the one after your first game with Munich.” She snarled, admiring the darkened marks on your neck. “Do you remember who we played against that game?”

Of course you did, you thought. The game has been one you were stressing over for weeks in advance. You and Georgia had only just moved in together, and there was significant pressure on you to succeed and prove to everyone that you could perform under intimidation.

“Chelsea.”

“Good girl, baby, that's right.” She cooed. “Scored in the first fifteen minutes, and I had to reward my Stargirl for that. That's what they all used to call you, didn't they? She called you Stargirl back then, now it's me who says it, isn't it?”

That was enough to push you closer to the edge. You gripped hard onto her shoulders, crying out as you felt your climax rush over you.

“How bout I send both those videos… show her who I enjoy my night with. Fucking you for being mine.”

“I— I'm yours, Gee. Fuck, please, I'm-”

The release left you reeling. You felt your orgasm leak out all over Georgia’s hand, your head falling against the headrest as you rode out your high with her consistent deep strokes in and out of your pussy. You didn't care about the mess you were making, nor the inflammatory noises you had been making as soon as you felt Georgia touch you. Your body shook from the much-needed release, and by the time you had somewhat caught your breath, the familiar pressure on your nub resurfaced.

You cried out, whining when the silicone dick entered your folds. Georgia looked down at you, kissing you passionately to silence your post-orgasm conscious. She made sure that you didn't push her away before moving the tip of the strap into your hole, smirking when you stretched open for her like you had been calling for it to be filled.

“Gee, its too big, I can't.” You whined, squirming as your hair stuck to your skin. Your girlfriend held your hips down, lowering herself down to where your pussy clenched around the toy as it moved.

“You’ll take it.” She growled. “You said it before. If you can suck me off I can fuck you with it.”

She kept an even pace as her hips finally reached yours, the strap filling your pussy with your slick. Your eyes were firmly clasped shut, your whines filling the car as the aching pain slowly turned into lust. Georgia waited for you to start rocking on it gently. The way you rode her dick so desperately turned her on to extreme lengths. She was somewhat surprised that you could take the length as well as you were, and when your hips met hers, and she felt the toy being bounced on, she realised that she had been still for a few minutes. She wanted to feel bad, but she knew that teasing was good for your ego.

“Gee, can you move?”

Georgia caught sight of the camera, the video still recording the vulgar sight. She groaned at the sight of your shaking legs, and the way you could go longer see the strap that was filled in between your legs. The camera showed the way your tits bounced so perkily every time you tried to gain friction. Your body was enclosed by Georgia’s arms, her thighs overlapping yours, her muscles on full display. Sweat beaded off both of you, moans cascading from your puffy red lips.

With one hand holding her up, she grabbed her phone that was sitting by the console. Her sudden movement sent shockwaves through you, causing you to scream out when the strap pushed into you impossibly closer. Georgia positioned the phone so that it was leaning on the seat, right where the strap was. When she knew that the angle caught all of your body, she lifted her lips slowly before pounding into you.

Your cries were music to her ears, and she thought it sinful to cover them with her hand in fear of being heard. If anything, people would be blessed with the sound, for she thought if heavenly. Your sounds mixed with her groans mixed with your slick against the strap. If any other size, Georgia would move even faster, but her pace was already hard, and you struggled to keep up as your pussy clenched around her.

“So gorgeous.” She uttered, feeling you near your climax for the third time that night. “Such a good girl for taking it.”

“Fuck, Georgia-”

“Gonna fill you up so that you get pregnant, baby. You tell me when and I’ll fill that beautiful body with a baby of our own. Fuck, you’d look so hot with our baby.”

You couldn't even begin to speak, your moans now babble, your speech completely incoherent. Georgia could feel her own release overcoming her, but she waited knowing that you were only seconds away.

“My pretty girl.”

You cried out her name for the last time, your cum coating her cock as she rode out both your high with sloppy deep strokes. You were in a state of pure bliss that you didn't even have the energy to push her off your overstimulated clit. Though, from all the times before, Georgia knew you would be sore, and after keeping still and waiting for both of you to even your breathing, she began to pull out.

You winced, waiting for Georgia to discard the toy and hakt the video before pulling her body into yours.

“I love you, Gee. No one else, baby.”

“I know, my pretty girl. I was only joking.”

You couldn't help but laugh, finding that statement ludicrous. “Yeah, alright, Stanway.”

“Okay, touche.” She replied smugly.

Maybe Millie was right — Georgia couldn't wait till she got home. And she did enjoy her fucking night.

_______________________

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evie-sturns · 2 days

Text

dreams - Matt Sturniolo

summary: the last thing you expected when you stayed over for the night at your best friend matt's house, was him rubbing himself against the mattress while moaning your name in his sleep, you obviously have to help him out?

contains: wet dream, switch!matt, teasing, fluff.

-----------------------------------------------—————

i've known matt since middle school, hes been my best friend since then. i stay round at his house often, its like my happy place when i get to be around him.

tonight is one of those nights where i stay round at matt's, we just finished watching stranger things season 4 for the 90th time and now we're heading up the stairs to his room.

"that show, is a fucking cinematic master piece." matt scoffs, walking up the stairs close behind me.

"it came out like 2 years ago matt, how are you not sick of it?" i laugh, my brandy melville shorts riding up my ass slightly as i reach the top of the stairs.

"it just never gets old," matt replies, i swing open the door to his bedroom and jump into his silk sheets.

"why does it smell so good in here?" i groan with a grin,

"don'tt lie." matt smiles, "i'm honestly not!! it does smell good for once."

"hey- i am a hygienic man." he points a finger at me before tearing his shirt off from over his head, he sorts through his wardrobe, looking through all the individually folded shirts.

he sets on a blue loose shirt, with the text 'it's been one of those days'

"cute!" i smile at him, he smiles back before jumping into bed beside me, launching me a couple inches into the air.

"matthew!" i hit him playfully, "oops." he teases back.

i lay my head on his chest, matt fidgets with my hair, i slowly drift off to sleep with his long fingers intertwined in my locks.

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

3:38am

my eyes squint open as noises from the other side of the bed fill my ears.

matt is on the edge of the mattress, about 2 feet between us.

"fuck- mfgh, oh--" he moans lightly,

his hips repeatedly thrust into the mattress, his face is buried in the pillow but his hair flops with each thrust.

"y/n- please!" he whines,

my stomach sinks as soon as i hear my name fall from his lips,

was he having a sex dream about me?

i know matt would be embarrassed if he knew i was watching him, but i was kind of.. enjoying this? i've always thought about matt in ways i wouldn't like to admit, but he is hot.

i decide to wake him up, i place my manicured hand on his shoulder. i grip his boney shoulder tight and shake him.

"matt!" i whisper-yell,

his thrusts instantly stop, and his head snaps up. his cheeks are flushed red and his lips are a raw pink.

he looks down at the wet spot on the mattress, then back up at me.

"uh- um yeah? you okay?" matt stutters out, trying to play it off.

"what was that sweetheart?" i whisper, sitting up. matt rolls over onto his back, i take the opportunity which is in front of me and sit up, i straddle his thighs and look down at him

he attempts to string together a coherent sentence, but only random words come out "im sorry- you heard that?" he squeezes out.

i drag my nails over the large tent in his pants

matt squeezes out a loud whimper, "i think i heard something come out of your mouth while you were rubbing yourself on the mattress." i say, my voice soft.

"mm-" matt hums, rubbing his eyes

"i heard.. my name?" i tease, matt covers his face with his hands

"'m sorry- 'm so sorry" matt whines.

"tell me about your dream matt."

he shakes his head, i run my hand over his bulge again and matt starts talking

"you- were saying how- how you needed me, and-and i was fucking you- 'm sorry!" matt says, his voice barely audible and he cuts himself off.

"thats okay baby." i smile, tugging down his waistband.

"please-" matt groans.

"i know." i say, reaching out and grabbing his length. his tip is the same shade as his pink lips and leaking precum, he has veins travelling up his dick.

"you have a pretty dick matt." i tell him, pumping slowly and running a thumb over his slit.

"thank- thank you" matt breathes,

"you want me to ride you matt?" i whisper into his ear, matt nods frantically, i pull my shorts to the side slightly,

"such a whore, dreaming about fucking your best friend." i scoff, scooting up and hovering above his tip. i sink down onto his cock,

i bottom out quickly, the craving for his dick overpowering me. he stretches me well, his tip resting against my cervix.

"matt" i whine, matt lets out loud whimpers as he balls up the sheets in his hands.

"so- tight" matt mumbles, i bounce up and down on his length. "fuck! mfgh" he almost yells,

"you dream about me often matt?" i say with a light moan

"yes- yes!" matt whines, "how often" i press him, "god- every couple days?" he replies.

"i want you to fuck me, can you do that for me?" i whisper, matt nods frantically before flipping us over,

my back hits the mattress, matt doesn't waste time to start thrusting into me, just like how he was into the mattress 10 minutes ago,

his hair bounces on his forehead with each thrust, matt reaches his tattoed arm up to my jaw, forcing me to look up at him.

"im- im close" i warn him,

"i know, 'feel you clenching." matt breathes out,

i clench around him, matt reaches his spare hand down and traces small circles around my sensitive clit.

i feel my orgasm wash over me, my legs shake as i arch my back off the bed, feeling all of my built up pleasure release at once.

matt instantly pulls out and paints my stomach with warm white streaks, he flops down next to me with a groan.

matt pulls me onto his chest, breathing heavily into his ear.

"are you okay?' i ask him with a small giggle,

"more than okay-" matt sighs with a smile.

we lay in silence for a couple minutes before matt breaks it with a muffled laugh

"whats funny matt?" i sigh with a grin, exhausted and fucked out.

"i think if someone told me yesterday that i would be fucking my best friend at 4am tomorrow i would've laughed in their face."

i let out a loud laugh, "thats pretty understandable."

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

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578 notes · View notes

enha-stars · 10 hours

Text

✧ happy mother’s day, mamas (18+)

Pairing: Husband!Heeseung x Pregnant!Reader

Summary: It’s mother’s day and your husband and daughter bring you breakfast in bed. They each have different ways of showing you how much they love you, their mama.

Warnings: Kissing, Mentions of Pregnancy, SMUT, minor food play, fingering, unprotected sex (don't), pregnancy kink, religious imagery, down bad heeseung, oral (f rec), degrading & praising

A/n: I wanted to post this for mother's day. but oh well. Also, this was supposed to be a drabble i have no idea how it got to be 5k.

As the warm rays of the morning sun slipped through the parted curtains, painting the room in a soft golden glow, you stirred beneath the warm blanket. Your eyelids fluttered open, welcoming the gentle warmth that accompanied the sun’s gentle ascent into the sky.

The room was still and quiet, save for the distant chirping of birds greeting the morning. With a contented sigh, you stretched out your limbs, yawning as the crisp sheets cradled your pregnant body. As gently as you could, you turned onto your back, reaching out to the space beside you.

You frowned when you were met with more mattress, your husband’s warm body long gone. Grunting, you slowly sit up. One hand beside you while the other wrapped around your belly, wanting to make sure that the fetus inside didn’t feel any jerk movements.

Back propped up against the headboard, you close your eyes as a gentle smile plays on your lips. Now that you were sitting up, you could clearly smell the wafting aroma of waffles and chicken bacon. You eye the empty space beside you and pat the cold mattress.

You didn’t even feel Heeseung slide out of bed. Usually, you’re very in tune to him while you’re sleeping and he’s even more in harmony with you.

Before you could dwell on how much effort it probably took him to unwrap his arms from your body and tiptoe out of the bedroom, a loud crash outside your bedroom jolts you upright. You grip the blanket as your foot twitches, subconsciously ready to approach the mess.

You hear quiet giggles and your husband’s voice softly whispering, “It’s okay, sweetness. I’ll clean it up later.”

As the door quietly clicks open, your smile widens at the sounds of your daughter’s little huffs and your husband's noises of encouragement. You watch with wide eyes as your daughter waddles into your bedroom in her pink basketball pajamas, holding a glass of mango juice.

Heeseung follows brightly behind her, holding a tray filled to the brim with food. His eyes travel from his daughter’s little form to you, laying in bed. He makes eye contact with your shiny, sleep-filled eyes and he watches as you visibly soften.

His grin turns into a full blown smile as he nears closer. You look so beautiful, sitting there with your hair a bit unruly and unkempt. Your night gown is wrinkled and one of your hands is laid flat on your belly. You smile brightly at him as your eyes soak in the scene before you.

Heeseung stands tall in his blue basketball pajama shorts that match your daughter’s. They hang lowly on his hips and his lean chest is exposed, making your cheeks warm at the sight. Your eyes travel downwards and your smile turns emotional as you watch your daughter trying to balance the glass in her hand.

“Hi, mama,” your little girl whispers. You almost can’t control the emotions swirling in your eyes at the sight of her shiny eyes and full cheeks. She looks so much like your husband and you’re thankful for it everyday.

“You don’t have to whisper, flower. Mama’s awake.” Heeseung grins at his little girl, finding her absolutely adorable. Dahlia was only five, so she couldn’t really see you as she stood at the foot of your bed.

“Hi, flower,” you greet her, softly. At your voice, she giggles and walks to your side of the bed. She smiles brightly at you, her front tooth missing. You coo at her as you set the glass of mango juice on the side table and pull her up.

“Careful, baby,” Heeseung frowns. He watches carefully as you pull your daughter into your lap, making sure you don't exert yourself. He balances the tray with one hand and grabs the foldable table before walking to your side of the bed.

In your arms, your daughter immediately melts. Her little arms wrap around your chest and she presses her face into your shoulder. You kiss the top of her head as you rub her back.

Ever since you found out that you were pregnant, almost five months ago, Heeseung had been encouraging Dahlia to sleep in her own bedroom. It was going really well for the most part, but some nights were harder than others.

“Missed you, mama.” Her quiet voice mumbles against your skin. You pout at her before nuzzling your nose into her hair. “I missed you too, flower.”

“Dahlia, sweetness, will you help me set up the table for mama?” Heeseung’s voice pulls your daughter out of your arms as she immediately nods and slides off your lap. You and Heeseung watch fondly as she quickly pulls the table legs out and sets the table over your thighs, mindful of your big belly.

You shuffle a bit on the mattress and fix the blanket before you nod at Heeseung. He sets the tray of food on the table and steps back. He watches your reaction carefully, nervously biting his bottom lip. His eyes fall on his daughter and he bites back a smirk as she mirrors his exact expression.

You stare at the tray in disbelief. On it, was a plate of three waffles, a smaller plate with chicken bacon strips, and a bowl of fruit. A singular pink dahlia rests in a thin vase and you pick it, bringing it to your nose.

Heeseung watches you with a stupid smile as you sniff the flower. The dahlia was an important flower to both of you. It was the first flower he had ever picked and given to you, leading to your daughter. He, without fail, always gave you one on special occasions.

A reminder of the incident that brought you both together. It was a reminder of the softer things in life, of your shared love.

You set the flower back in the vase and look up at Heeseung, eyes teary as emotion renders you speechless. Your daughter sits beside you, eyes wide in anticipation. She has been incredibly excited for Mother’s Day, eating Heeseung’s ear off with different ideas.

“I think she likes it, Dahlia,” Heeseung whispers to his daughter. He sits on the edge of the mattress, as close as he can to you. He rests a hand on the other side of your legs and stares softly at you, waiting for the rush of emotion to subside.

“Really?” Dahlia asks, a little disappointed. “Why is Mama not saying anything?”

You let out a breathy laugh and Heeseung is so entranced by it he almost forgets to answer his little girl. “Give her a second, flower.” He turns his head to Dahlia and smiles at her focused expression. She looks a lot like you when she is focused, or scheming. “Remember what I said about patience?”

Dahlia sighs and solemnly nods. You laugh at her fallen expression and inch closer, curious. Heeseung was always murmuring little reminders to your daughter whenever he could. “What did papa say about patience, little flower?”

Dahlia sits back and purses her little lips before glancing at Heeseung who stares at her with a raised eyebrow. She smiles at you sheepishly before shuffling closer to you. “Papa said I have to be more pat… patient,” she stutters. “Cuz the baby is coming.”

You glance at Heeseung and he simply shrugs at you. You smile at her and pat the empty space next to you. She drags herself closer to you, resting her head on your arm. “Thank you for being patient for mama, Dahlia.”

Instead of responding, she tucks her face into your side and Heeseung laughs at her shyness. With him, she was always slightly hyper. But with you, she was incredibly soft. He couldn’t blame her, of course. You were the light of their lives.

“Thank you for breakfast, my loves.” You’re staring at Heeseung and he inches closer. He leans forward and kisses your forehead. You close your eyes in contentment and only open them when you feel your cheeks being squished.

You open your eyes to your daughter’s hands on either side of your face and before you can say anything, she kisses you hard on the lips. You stare at her in surprise and Heeseung’s jaw falls to the floor.

“Happy mother’s day, mama.” She pulls at your cheeks, pinching them. “I love you.”

You try your best to smile at her given the circumstances and she giggles at your expression. She sits back beside you and Heeseung clears his throat. You see the turmoil in his eyes and pop a blueberry in your mouth.

“Dahlia,” Heeseung says. Your daughter looks up at him curiously. “You can’t kiss mama on the lips.”

You snort at his seriousness and immediately bite back your grin when he throws you a look. You say nothing as you gently pat your stomach and pick up a piece of bacon, taking a large bite.

Dahlia frowns and tilts her head in the same endearing way that Heeseung does. “Why not? You kiss mama on the lips.”

Heeseung’s frown deepens. “Yes, but I am her husband. You’re her daughter.”

“So?”

Heeseung blanks. She looks so much like you as she stares at him with narrowed eyes. He almost questions his entire argument when her eyes twinkle. He loves her so much.

“So… don’t kiss her on the lips.”

You want to laugh at his weak argument but he shoves a piece of banana into your mouth before you can.

“Where can I kiss mama then?”

Before Heeseung can answer, you softly grab Dahlia’s chin and turn her head towards you, afraid that your husband will start something he won’t be able to finish. As her eyes meet yours, they immediately soften and her defiance melts away. Heeseung scoffs under his breath.

“You can kiss me anywhere except my lips. Okay, pretty flower?”

Dahlia doesn’t even argue as she nods, accepting your words without a hitch. Heeseung laughs in disbelief as you cut a small piece of a waffle and bring it to Dahlia’s lips. She swallows eagerly and you ruffle her hair.

You three sit in comfortable silence for a bit as you eat the food that your husband and daughter have made, feeding them as well. After a few bites, Heeseung shakes his head and simply watches as you and Dahlia eat. Syrup spills down your lips and he wipes it away with his thumb, staring darkly at you as he sucks on his thumb.

He rests his hand on your belly and smiles when he feels the baby kick. He shifts closer, his heart swelling in content.

“He’s kicking pretty early in the morning,” you say, pulling Heeseung out of his daze.

Heeseung nods and begins rubbing your belly. You watch him, enamored. Ever since your first pregnancy, Heeseung had a habit of just touching you. His hand was always on your stomach or he was rubbing your back.

“Can I go watch Cocomelon?”

Heeseung blinks at Dahlia and he knows you’re about to refuse, but he wants to have you to himself. You look so beautiful, so enticing, and he wants to show his appreciation for you in another way.

He usually can’t help himself around you, but when you’re pregnant, he loses all control. You look so ethereal as you glow, your body filling out to support another life. He was obsessed with how your belly swelled, carrying his child.

You were already bewitching to him, but now you were divine. If anyone asked him who he prayed to, he would say your name with such care, such grace. You were making him a father again, who else could he thank besides you?

“Sure, sweetness.” He says. “Go ahead.”

Dahlia kisses your arm and then kisses your stomach before she kisses Heeseung’s nose. You both watch her quietly as she slides off the bed and waddles out of the bedroom, shutting the door behind her.

You swallow and stare up at Heeseung, smiling softly at him. He moves the tray of food on the other side of you and shifts closer. His arms are on either side of you and he stares down at you like you’re the most delicious thing he’s ever seen.

“Good morning, baby.”

You laugh and lean back into the headboard. “Morning, Seung.” You lift your hand and cup his cheek, smiling softly when he leans into your touch.

“How are you this fine morning, beautiful?”

There’s a glint in his eyes but you can see the curiosity in his eyes. He wants to make sure you’re okay. That you aren’t uncomfortable, that the baby hasn’t been bothering you. He’s always thinking about you. Well, you, the baby boy you’re carrying, and his baby girl.

“I’m doing amazing,” you tell him, honestly. “Seriously. You didn’t have to do any of this.”

“This is nothing,” he tells you. “You should have heard some of Dahlia’s ideas. She’s just as imaginative as you.” You grin at his teasing but then his eyes soften and he laces your hands together. “You know I’d give you the world, mamas.”

You squeeze his hand three times, unable to respond. When Dahlia was born, Heeseung began calling you ‘mama’ so she would pick it up. Whenever he said it around her, it warmed your heart.

When he said it like this, all low and enticingly, it made your insides flip inside out. It was different, because when he said it like this, it was like he wanted to make you a mama, again.

“I know,” you whisper. You bring his hand to your lips and kiss his knuckles.

Heeseung wants to do unspeakable things to you but he glances at the plate and realizes you haven’t eaten enough. He leans forward and presses his lips softly against yours, humming at the sweetness of the syrup and the savoury flavour of the bacon on your lips.

He pulls away too soon and pulls the tray closer to you. He leans back and you watch as he cuts a piece of waffle and bacon, making a proper bite before lifting it to your lips. You blink at him and he parts his lips. “Say ah, baby.”

You roll your eyes but let him feed you anyways. Heeseung smiles at you when you chew slowly, glad that your nausea hasn’t been acting up. He was a bit anxious about it but Dahlia had been very insistent and he was a weak man.

Heeseung makes another bite for you and like the obedient little wife you are, you open your mouth. A bit of syrup spills from the waffle and drips down your collarbones. Before you could even think of wiping it, Heeseung leans down and licks it off your skin.

You shiver when his tongue makes contact with your cool skin. He licks the sticky syrup from your body and then presses open mouth kisses to your collarbones. You sigh, eyes shutting, as Heeseung licks and sucks your skin.

His kisses travel up your neck, nibbling and biting. He presses a wet kiss to your jaw and pulls away, eyes ablaze. You’re slightly panting as you squeeze your thighs shut. Heeseung tilts his head and brushes his nose against yours. Your hands are on his shoulders, running up and down his bare chest.

“Seung, aren’t you hungry?” You’re slightly out of breath, and his closeness isn’t helping. You can’t help but feel a little guilty. He woke up early to make you breakfast and he has yet to eat anything.

Heeseung shakes his head and his lips curve upwards into a menacing smirk. “I just want you.”

You hear the double meaning in his voice, you can feel it against your skin with the way he was looking at you. He made you feel beautiful, like the stretching of your skin and swollen feet meant nothing to him.

“You have me.”

Heeseung’s lips hover above your own. “Any way I want?”

You tilt your chin upwards and press your lips against his in a short kiss. “However you want.”

Grinning, Heeseung pushes himself back and stands up. You blink at his sudden movements and watch as he lifts the tray and table. He folds the table and sets it against the wall and then makes his way to the door.

He turns back to you and grins at you in a way that reminds you of high school and janitor closets. “I hope you’re ready, baby.” You watch him leave your bedroom with heated eyes, instantly shifting further on the bed.

Heeseung walks down the hallway and into the kitchen. He sets the tray down on the counter and fills a pink sippy cup with water. Twisting the lit on, he quietly walks into the family room, eyes falling on his daughter laying on her stomach on the couch.

“Dahlia, flower, you shouldn’t lay on your stomach.” At her father’s voice, Dahlia instantly sits up and smiles brightly at him. She sits properly and pats the seat next to her.

“Papa, sit with me.”

Heeseung’s eyes soften and he feels a little guilty, but his wife is waiting patiently for him in bed so he doesn’t dwell on the guilt for too long. He kisses Dahlia on the head and hands her the cup. Instantly, she brings the chewed straw to her lips.

“Sorry, sweetness. Mama isn’t feeling too well so I’m gonna lay with her for a bit, okay?” Heeseung winces as Dahlia’s eyes widen in concern and before she could bolt down the hall, he pinches her cheek. “She ate too much and now she wants to nap. You know she has to nap, right?”

Dahlia nods, water dripping from her chin. “Cuz of the baby, right?”

Heesueng nods, a surge of love making his heart swell. “Exactly. And you’re not a baby anymore, right?”

Instantly, Dahlia shakes her head, almost looking offended at such accusations. “No! I’m a big girl.”

Heeseung scoops her up and laughs when she giggles, fauxing thrashing her arms. He nuzzles his nose into her stomach, heart content as she laughs loudly. “You are a big girl now, flower. Which means you’ll knock and only enter when we give permission, right?”

Still laughing, Dahlia nods aggressively. Confident in himself and her, he kisses her entire face before setting her back down on the couch. As the next Cocomelon song plays, Dahlia loses interest in her father.

Heeseung stares down at her for a few seconds before slipping away. He doesn’t know how he got here. He’s not sure who he saved in his past life, but he’s grateful for it. He never would have thought that he’d be this happy and content, but he’s immensely thankful.

He quietly twists the door open and slips into the bedroom, locking the door. At the sound, you look up from your phone, instantly setting it down. Heeseung leans against the door, staring at you. You look so heavenly, laying there just waiting to be ravished by him.

You feel small under his eyes and given the circumstances, it’s ironic. He stands there in nothing but blue shorts and yet, he’s the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. His hair is all tousled and he looks delicious.

Slowly, Heeseung walks towards you. His eyes are dark with something familiar and you can feel the heat of his gaze affect you. You watch with shallow breaths as he reaches the foot of your shared bed. He falls onto the mattress and crawls to you, tongue sliding across his bottom lip.

When he reaches you, he slots his leg between yours and settles his arms on either side of you. His breathing is almost as erratic as yours and you waste no time as you pull him into a heated kiss, arms wrapping around his neck.

Your lips pressed against his as you kissed him roughly, tired of the soft and safe kisses you both had shared the entire morning. Heeseung tilts his head and further deepens the kiss, slipping his tongue into your mouth. Tongues, teeth, and lips crash together in perfect harmony.

Heeseung’s knee rubs against your bare core as he presses himself further into you. Your hands travel up and down his back before you run a hand through his hair, pulling the long strands unconsciously.

Heeseung moans into the kiss and you swallow it, tracing his bottom lip with your tongue. He kisses you roughly before pulling away, immediately kissing down your jaw to your neck. His teeth graze your skin as he nibbles and sucks, and your head falls back, giving him more access.

With perfected practice, he kisses down your body. He shifts himself slightly back as he kisses down your clothed breasts, sucking and biting through the flimsy material. You whimper when his tongue pokes and prods your sensitive nipples. He quickly unbuttons your gown and kisses your exposed breasts, tongue swirling against your hardened nipples.

He kisses down your stomach, gentle as continues to unbutton your gown. He covers your entire covered belly with kisses and soft praises. He continues downward and unbuttons the last few buttons, leaving you bare and exposed to him. “So fucking pretty,” he mumbles.

You look so beautiful like this he almost can’t take it. Instead, he kisses down your stomach until he’s reached your pussy. He lays on his stomach and looks up at you. You can only see him because you’re propped up on the headboard, but the sight of your husband between your legs isn't one you want to ever miss.

Gently, Heeseung lifts each of your legs and places them a bit farther, forcing you to open yourself for him. He leans in and presses his nose against your cunt. Your hips jerk upwards at the feeling of him nosing your clit but he holds them down.

“So wet, baby,” he mumbles. He rubs his nose further into you, making you moan at the feeling. “Such a naughty girl,” he grins as he brings his hand to your pussy, rubbing your arousal all over your clit. You can barely breathe at the feeling of his nose and fingers. “Getting so wet while your baby girl is down the hall.” You whimper when he kisses your clit. “My dirty mama.”

Before you could say anything, he starts to plant wet, open-mouthed kisses along your thigh, alternating between nibbling and sucking on the tender flesh before tracing a wet path down your thigh to your dripping center. Your fingers weave into his hair as he eagerly explores you.

A moan escapes Heeseung's lips as he delves his tongue inside. Your body arches in response, teeth sinking into your lip to stifle the nearly escaping cry. His nose nudges against your swollen folds while his tongue expertly works its magic within you. A low hum reverberates through him as he licks and laps, sending delicious shivers down your spine.

Heeseung groans when you tug on his hair, his name slipping quietly from your lips in hurried breaths. The taste of you is perfect, and he can't seem to get enough. Sucking on your sensitive clit, he presses his nose deep within you, grinning against your cunt when you let out a loud cry.

“Heeseung,” you breathe. Your hands grip his hair tightly and when you pull, pushing him further into your pussy, he groans and the sound makes your legs shake.

As he fucked his tongue into you, sucking and slurping, he coated three of his fingers in your slick before plunging them in. You try your best to stifle your cry as your cunt sucks his fingers in. Your nerves are on fire and your mind is hazy with pleasure.

Heeseung matches the pace of his tongue with his fingers and he releases a quiet whimper when you try to close your legs, slightly suffocating him. With his other hand, he pushes at your thigh, gripping tightly.

“Fuck, fuck, Seung– fuck.” You’re panting, sweaty as pleasure overwhelms you. “I’m gonna cum–”

Heeseung doesn’t need the warning because he knows. He can feel it in the way you’re sucking him in, the way your legs are shaking as your slick gushes out of you and into his mouth. Pregnancy changed the way you tasted and he loved it, enough to claim being an addict.

The building of pleasure snapped inside you as he wrapped his lips around your clit and fucked his fingers into you. You sobbed out his name, clenching your eyes shut as your nerves lit on fire and your vision went white.

The bottom half of his face was shiny with your cum and slick as he continued to lick at you, his tongue working its way from your entrance all the way to your clit. He never wanted your orgasm to end.

You bit into your hand to muffle another scream as Heeseung kept pushing his fingers inside you, pushing your cum back into your sopping hole. Your knees weakened as he kept lapping all your juices. You could feel your core tighten again until another release washed through you, making you moan and whimper louder.

Heeseung licked you clean, swallowing the second orgasm swifter than the first. He slowly pulled his fingers out of you and pushed his tongue in, lapping up everything your cunt had to offer.

You breathed heavily as you tried to regain any sense of control back into your legs. Slowly, Heeseung sat up and licked his fingers clean, staring at you fervently as he did. Your pussy throbbed at the sight and loss of him, and you quietly whimpered out his name.

“You did so good for me, mama.” He crawled towards you and kissed you, tongue brushing against yours, letting you taste yourself. You hummed into his mouth and he swallowed it, his dick incredibly hard and throbbing.

He pulled away and looked down at you. You looked up at him with tears in your eyes and he kissed your eyelids. He could see the exhaustion in your eyes, hidden deep within the arousal and he made a decision.

Heeseung fell on the bed beside you, panting. You slightly turned towards him and he looked at you lovingly, a dazed smile on his lips. You both laid side-by-side. “How are you feeling, baby?”

You snickered, a bit out of it still. “Like I’ve just cummed twice.”

Heeseung grins at you and presses a soft kiss to your cheek. “Are you okay to keep going?”

You blink at him. “I’m pregnant, Seung. Not terminally ill.” At his unimpressed look, you snort. “Yes, I’m okay.” Heeseung continues to stare at you and you sigh, admitting defeat. “Fine. I’m a little tired.”

Heeseung nods in understanding and gestures for you to sit up and you do. He takes your pillow and fluffs it before motioning you to lay down. You follow his instructions and sigh in relief as the pressure is off your back.

You blink up at your husband. “Do me a favour and listen to me blindly for the next two minutes.” Instantly, Heeseung nods as he lays beside you, sweaty and beautiful. You eye his bulge and lick your lips.

You turn so your back faces Heeseung and he watches and waits patiently. Once you’re comfortable on your side, you slightly turn your head. “Lay on your side, Seungie. Close to me,” you say.

Heeseung does exactly that. He fluffs his pillow before laying on his side, arm immediately around your waist as his chest presses into your back. You smile at him and he nuzzles his face into your neck.

“What now, baby?”

“Now you fuck me silly.”

Heeseung grins at your words as he nips at your neck. “You’re sure, Y/n?”

You nod. “Yes. Please, Seung. I need you in me.”

Heeseung presses an open mouthed kiss to the crevice of your shoulder and he pulls his throbbing cock out of his shorts. He lifts one of your legs and sets it on his own, rubbing his dick against your cunt, coating it in your slick. You hold your breath as he pushes the head slowly inside, moaning out his name as your pussy sucks him in.

You were a bit tighter than usual during pregnancy and it drove Heeseung fucking insane. He squeezes one of your breasts, playing with your nipple as he pushes his cock slowly inside you, bottoming out.

You moan at the stretch and fullness you feel, arching your back a bit so your ass presses flush against his hips. Heeseung begins slowly rocking his hips against you, sliding his dick in and out of you at the most delicious pace. “That’s it, mamas. Suck me in, just like that.”

“Hee,” you whimpered.

Heeseung continued to fuck you slowly, one of his hands holding your leg and the other plates with your breasts before travelling down your body and circling your clit. His pace increased and his fingers quickened. Before you could cry out, he shoved the same fingers into your mouth, making you gag on them.

“Quiet, baby.” His voice sent chills down your spine. “Dahlia is right outside. You don’t want her to know how dirty mama truly is, do you?” At his words, your walls fluttered around his cock and he hissed. “You like that? Huh, baby?” He fucked you harder as your tongue swirled around his fingers.

His cock twitched and he could feel that you were close. “Cum for me, mamas. Cum all over my cock like the dirty girl you are.”

Your cries echoed through the room as you climaxed, your cum coating his cock as you surrendered to the waves of pleasure. Your body convulsed uncontrollably, your inner walls gripping him with a fierce intensity. Heeseung's own moans mingled with yours as he bit down on your neck, releasing himself within you.

He emptied himself into you, the sound of his release mixing with your own juices, creating a symphony of ecstasy. With each thrust, he filled you completely, his gaze transfixed on the mesmerizing sight of his cock disappearing into your warmth.

Amidst your incoherent babbling, Heeseung continued to pump into you, utterly lost in the depths of your being. His movements were relentless, driven by a primal urge he couldn't deny. Tears streamed down your cheeks, a mixture of overstimulation and raw emotion overwhelming your senses.

As the final drops of his cum dripped into your core, he gradually slowed his pace, pressing tender kisses to your neck and shoulders. Ever so gently, Heeseung moves to pull out of you but your hand on his waist stops you. Pushing himself further into you, he wraps his arm around you and pulls you flush against his back.

You both pant heavily, trying to regain your composure. It doesn’t help that he’s still inside you, but you can’t stomach the loss of him either. You feel so complete when his cock is buried in you and even though your vision is blurry, you love it.

Heeseung presses a gentle kiss to your neck. “You alright, baby?”

You close your eyes. “Mhm. I love you.”

Heeseung laughs and buries his face in your hair. “I love you too, Y/n.” He smiles against your skin. “I’m going to get a bath started for you.” Your nails dig deeper into his skin and he grins.

“In a bit,” you mumble. Your eyes are drooping and you know that you should probably check on your daughter soon, but everything inside you is pulling you to sleep.

Heeseung can tell you’re falling asleep. The tightness in your shoulders has melted and your breathing is slightly shallow and even. He holds you tightly as you succumb to the darkness. He waits a bit, until you’re snoring, to quietly pull out of you.

He bites his bottom lip to suppress his hisses as your warm cunt practically sucks him in but he refrains. He fixes his shorts and slides out of bed, grabbing a fresh wash cloth to wipe you down. He cleans you as best as he can and buttons your nightgown.

He sits at the edge of the bed and stares down at your soft sleeping face. You look so content and freshly fucked, it’s one of his favourite looks on you. “Happy mother’s day, mamas.” He presses a soft kiss to your forehead and goes to the bathroom to clean himself.

Then, once he’s clean, he walks out of the bedroom and into the family room. His eyes zone in on Daliah’s sleeping body and he coos, scooping her into his arms. He brings his baby girl into the master bedroom and decides that a nap in their bed wouldn’t hurt.

He slides back into bed and lays Daliah on his chest. One of his arms wraps protectively around her sleeping body and she tucks her little face into his neck. Naturally, seeking his warmth, you turn in your sleep.

With his wife on one side and his daughter on his chest, he lays a hand on her pregnant belly.

This is all he’s ever wanted. A little, loving family.

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cordeliawhohung · 2 days

Text

pornstar!gaz x fem!reader | read drunk night for more context

kyle is jealous

cw: minor smut, jealousy related angst

Kyle hasn’t seen you since the night he brought you home from the bar.

It’s the only thing he can think about as he enters the studio building with his hands shoved deep in his jumper. Regret has lingered in the back of his mind since that night, and he hasn’t been able to shake the feeling. All he can see is your tired body curled up in bed, and hear your sweet, tired voice asking him if he’d stay the night; or you saying that you loved him. It plays on repeat in his mind, nothing but a broken record of memories haunting him with what could have been had he not run away.

He sighs to himself as he meanders through the building. He’s filming today, but not with you, and he’s not sure if he should be grateful for that or not. Things have been odd between you and Kyle. Or maybe everything is fine and he’s stressing about it more than he should; truly, he cannot tell. You sent him a text the morning you woke up after your drunken night out, apologizing for dragging him halfway across the city, but you never mentioned anything else. Not how you stripped in front of him, or straddled him on your bed, or for anything you said. All other conversations after that have only consisted of small talk and shitty memes you’ve found online.

If he thinks about it hard enough, he can still feel your thighs on either side of his hips, and still smell the cheap liquor on your breath. He’d never seen you look at him like that before; like you were going to eat him alive — like you were begging him to devour you the same way you wanted to consume him.

Twitchy fingers buzz with anxiety as Kyle reaches the filming floor. There’s still a bit of time before he has to start getting ready, but a part of him is wishing he’ll run into you. He’s almost certain seeing you will drive him crazy even further, and still he doesn’t care. Careful eyes scan signs and names and times posted next to the various filming rooms until he finds your name, along with the name of your partner for that day — a name he thinks he recognizes, but not one he cares enough to stare at for longer than needed.

Ice forms in his veins when he realizes he can hear your moans on the other side of the door. It’s a melody he has memorized very well, yet there’s something twisted and rotten that settles in his stomach. They sound… real. Not like the forced, over dramatic ones he usually hears when you film with other people. No, this is sweet as candy. It’s a taste you usually reserve only for him.

He bites the inside of his cheek as he opens the door and sneaks on set.

As always, you’re beautiful. No — fuck that — you’re radiant. You always have this aura about you that draws Kyle in and traps him like a fly caught in a web, and god does it feel like death. It’s a chest crushing realization when he sees you splayed on your back like some science dissection project, speared on another man’s thick cock. The ice in his veins quickly warms to a roaring boil as the strangers hands explore your body and lips conquer the dip of your neck.

Kyle can’t tell what’s more infuriating; the fact another man is all over you, or that this stranger is fucking you so well he can see the way your eyes roll into the back of your head.

Cameras zoom in close on your face as your body shutters with each thrust. Iron floods Kyle’s mouth as his teeth tear through the sensitive flesh of his cheek, and he swallows it back as this stranger chuckles. It’s a deep, rumbling sound. You squirm at it, but it only makes Kyle feel sick.

“Sweet thing,” the man mutters into your neck. He’s large, with a back so broad it nearly envelops your entire body. You’re no tiny, helpless thing, but the size of this man dwarfs you into a helpless ragdoll in his tattooed arms. “You love this, don’t you?”

Kyle’s stomach drops as he watches you nod your head, and for a moment he’s glad that the man is faced away from him; though, he’s certain he can feel him glaring.

“Come on, I know you can use your words. You were being so vocal earlier,” the man teases. “Tell me how much you love this.”

“Fuck,” you stutter. All it takes is a well placed thumb on your clit to get your mind short circuiting, and Kyle can visibly see the disconnect in your brain. “I-I love this… I- thank you- I love you, fuck.”

The only thing Kyle can hear after that is the sound of blood rushing in his ears. Darkness clouds his vision until it’s tunneling in on you, and the taste of iron becomes so strong on his tongue he feels his stomach rage against it. He doesn’t know how much longer he can stay in that studio with the sizzling lights and that fucking director praising you and your partner or the delicious sounds of your moans. The moans someone else is causing; some intruder, some bastard, some —

He nearly hits Johnny with the door when he bursts off set. The man jumps back with his arms raised as if trying to calm a wild animal, which Kyle isn’t very far off from being. His eyebrows sit heavy against the top of his eyes in a scowl, and his lips won’t stop twitching. Johnny looks back and forth between him, and the sign on the door, before a slight smirk pulls at his lips.

“Rough day?” he asks.

Kyle doesn’t know what to say, but he does know that the knowing look on Johnny’s face certainly isn’t helping anything. He shoves his hands in his pockets to hide the way his fingers shake, and he lets out a heavy huff.

“Don’t take it personally. Simon’s got good dick, that’s all,” Johnny attempts to rationalize. “I doubt he’s trying to steal your girl.”

“She’s not my girl,” Kyle retorts. And you’re not. He doesn’t own you. You don’t belong to him. You can do whatever you like.

So why does it still hurt?

Johnny raises an eyebrow. “Isn’t she?”

He doesn’t respond. He’s afraid of the words that would leave his mouth if he even attempted to. Instead, he allows Johnny to toss his arm over his shoulder and lead him down the hall, putting distance between him and the waning sounds of your moans bleeding through the door.

“Look, mate, you’ve gotta come clean eventually,” Johnny says with a sigh. “This isn’t good for you, or her.”

“It’s more complicated than that,” Kyle defends.

“You only think it’s complicated because you’re a coward,” Johnny retorts.

“I’m not a coward!”

“You’re a fuckin’ coward who needs to get his shit together and fuckin’ talk to her.”

Once they’re far enough away from the set, Johnny stops and turns Kyle to face him. The man is still brooding with his hands in his pockets, but it’s impossible for Kyle to not at least hear him out.

“You’ve either got to fess up, or let her go, but this pining bullshit isn’t healthy. You think you’re the first person in this industry to fall a little bit in love after a few good fucks?” Johnny pauses as the look in Kyle’s eyes soften. He gives his shoulder a firm squeeze. It’s not a little bit in love; it’s something worse than that. It’s an infatuation that’s tearing the poor man apart. “Look, there’s the wrap party tonight, right? I know that’s not really your thing, but I overheard her saying she plans to be there. Get a bit of alcohol in your system and talk to her before you kill yourself over it.”

Kyle’s eyes flicker to the ground where he stares at his feet. That super heated blood in his veins has cooled, but the scorching is still there, plaguing him from the inside out. A tightness forms in his throat, and he swears his vocal chords are about to snap.

“And if she doesn’t feel the same?” he asks.

Johnny’s lips tighten before he shakes his head and shrugs. “Either way. You’ll have your answer.”

A heavy silence falls between them as Johnny takes a step back, blue eyes watching him carefully. It’s a heavy burden to bear, he knows, yet all he can offer is a quiet condolence before leaving Kyle alone in the hallway with his thoughts.

And his thoughts are loud. Demanding. Degrading. It’s a mix of two very different memories repeating over and over in his head. In his mind, he can still hear you saying that you love him, half awake and sleepy as the alcohol clouds your mind too much to speak coherently. But it’s tainted now. Filthy and stained with the way you sounded when you said I love you to Simon.

He checks the time on his phone and sighs as he realizes he’s running late. Hard to keep track of everything when you consume his attention every waking moment of the day. A curse leaves his lips as he walks down the hallway, making way towards his dressing room.

As your moans fade into the white noise of the hallway, he tries not to think about how he’s more than likely going to ruin his life tonight.

#gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #pornstar!gaz #f!reader

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liveontelevision · 2 days

Note

I saw someone do headcanons on Lucifer and I know you'd write it perfectly. They basically said that if you were to ignore him, he'd practically BEG and WHINE like a bitch to have you talk to him. Even if it's telling him he's pathetic. As long as he hears your voice.

Ofc don't feel pressured to do this if you're busy or anything else, Ily🫶🏻🫶🏻 keep up the great work! :]

OKAY MORE SMUT (seriously, mdni 18+)

Sorry this one took forever but I'm prettyyy sure it's worth it. Let's just say this is Lucifer discovering some new things about himself :D

And ILY THANKS FOR THE REQUEST BBG

Ignorance is Bliss | Lucifer x Reader

♡♡♡

Becoming comfortable with the King of Hell as his partner was easy. He made sure to cater to all your needs and give you everything you asked for. Overall, Lucifer was a sweetheart and a gentleman. And this was especially the case in bed. Considering his immense powers, he was giddy to fulfill any of your fantasies you'd have, no matter how bizarre. After being with him for long enough, fantasies dissolved into curiosities. Some nights became spicing things up in the bedroom in ways that you'd never consider, just to see how much you could handle. Now? you wanted to see how much he could handle.

Neither of you were comfortable with bringing intimacy to the public, not without proper care, at least. But what if you could work him up in a way only you knew about? Tease him throughout the day? How desperate could you make him without touching him? You couldn't recall where you picked up this idea, maybe somewhere online at some point. Knowing how deeply devoted he was to you, he was sure to hold a great reaction to this.

You were together when the hotel was renovated, so it was an easy transition for you. Everyone already aware of your relationship and loving you in turn made your afterlife seem like less of a punishment.

His top priority was your comfort when you both moved. He made sure to be close to you in group settings, keeping a hand on you at almost all times. Whether that be a hand on your thigh or the small of your back, or simply having his fingers intertwined in yours, it felt like a relief for both of you.

But with this little act you were pulling, you would lean away from his touch, and make excuses to disappear for the afternoon. Or in the halls, where he'd usually greet you with a quick kiss or I love you, you'd pull out your phone as you approached him, or simply smiled with your eyes barely looking his direction. He would swear, if anyone asked, that this wasn't bugging him one bit. Not. At. All. You were all his at the end of the day, you could treat him however you want and he'd submit. He's fine. He's acting fine.

When it came to the hotel, there weren't many demons jumping at the chance of redemption in the beginning, so some nights turned into drinks, games, and music. You felt so incredibly lucky to be a part of this family, your eyes scanning across the room and taking in just the pure enjoyment of everyone around you. The center of it all tonight was Lucifer. He was going on about some fantastical story that involved a circus in some other ring of Hell, that then evolved into sharing baby photos of Charlie. His eyes always sparkled when he would talk about his daughter. You loved her too, of course, but your heart always fluttered when his admiration would show.

Still, you had that little experiment to play with tonight. As Lucifer went on about his stories, either entertaining demons with their content or his ridiculous retellings, everyone was drawn in. Not to mention, he was drunk and was acting like a fool, so he was even entertaining Alastor. With one foot on the barstool and the other propped on the counter, he acted out some ridiculous story that you paid no mind to. In fact, you made it a point to not react to anything, despite how intense he was becoming. You'd look down at your phone as he spoke. Or you'd start some random conversation with Husk, who really could care less, but he at least responded to you.

Keeping your eyes off of him was a challenge, but you could tell he was trying to get your attention when he'd brag about something. With no response, he would stutter mid-sentence, then change the topic after not getting the reaction he wanted out of you. With each ignorant glance, he took a swig of his drink.

He was seated after that, being scolded for scuffing the tables with his heels. That's when the ridiculous jokes began. You loved his jokes! You could listen to them all day, even laughing when he told you the same joke over and over. But not tonight, you had to remind yourself. You bit your tongue and sucked in your lips to hide any smile or laughter that might pass through. Still avoiding looking in his direction entirely, Lucifer was suddenly silenced. You looked up at him through half lidded eyes, then back down to your screen, mindlessly scrolling through essentially nothing. Charlie was quick to distract him with a story, he was nodding along and smiling as best he could for her. The party dwindled, leaving you, Lucifer and Husk.

“I-uh.. think our royal highness has had enough. You should take him to bed, kid.” Husk finally draws your attention to Lucifer, who has laid his head on the countertop, incoherently mumbling. You sigh and nod, taking his drink from his hand and rising to your feet. Just barely touching his shoulder, he immediately straightens his posture.

“Good call, kitty!” He had a habit of calling Husk that when he wasn't entirely there, it made both of you cringe, “Bedtime, my love?” He takes a hold of your hand in both of his and you have to remind yourself this is just for fun. The endgame has to be worth it. You pull away, already walking through the portal he had created when he was talking. He looked at you as you stood in your shared room, still seated at the bar. Finally turning, you sigh and place your hands on your hips.

“C’mon, Lucifer.” You said absentmindedly, using a beckoning finger to draw him in. He eagerly jumped from his seat following you in, even with his chest aching. You didn't normally use his name. Usually it was darling, or my love, or good boy if he was acting accordingly. He takes a hold of your arm as the portal shuts, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, then running small pecks along the length of your arm, stopping at the start of your shoulder. You let out a small, almost nervous sounding chuckle, before reeling back.

“Didn't see you around the hotel today, darling. Did you do anything fun?” Lucifer sways as he speaks. Maybe small talk would help? He was trying his hardest to act casual and keep a clear conscience considering how much alcohol he’s had at this point. You shake your head, pulling your top off. You decide to sort through your clothes long enough to let Lucifer catch the sight of you bent at the hips, rummaging through a dresser drawer while topless. You could hear him gulp. He starts the same way, but struggles with the buttons on his vest.

“L-love, I might need-” his intoxication is clear in his voice at this point. After throwing on some sort of silky slip, you sigh and turn your attention to him. Looking down and fiddling with the buttons, he begins to lose his balance and finds himself leaning against a wall for stability. You approach him silently, and easily undo each of his buttons. You'd be lying if this alone wasn't making your stomach flutter. Even then, it was easy to keep your cool after seeing that he was clearly enjoying this too much. You notice his labored breathing as he braces his arms against the wall, allowing you to run your hands across his bare chest and slipping his shirt and vest to the ground with some maneuvering. You keep your hands at his hips for a moment, he lifted his pelvis away from the wall, maybe hoping for some kind of friction. You were lingering barely an inch away from his lips. Hearing the smallest whimper seemed to remind you of your mission, so you quickly pulled away.

“Good night, Lucifer~” just that sentence alone sent him spinning. Your lips so close to him and your voice so smooth, he was beginning to enjoy the sound of his name in your mouth.

More. He needs more.

As you crawled under the covers, you made it a point to hum and moan as you stretched and settled in. Pulling your phone back up to your face, you barely had time to look at anything before a clawed hand had slowly pushed your device down, revealing a very red-faced Lucifer.

“Is something wrong, love? Can I.. help you?” He was genuinely worried. You almost felt guilty at that moment. With a final sigh, you set your phone aside and cupped his hot to the touch cheek in your hand. He immediately let the weight of his head fall into your hands, humming contently at the long overdue contact. Still, you shake your head in response to him, keeping your lips sealed. His lip finally starts to quiver and he lets out a shaky breath.

“Please, I need your voice, love.. I miss it- I miss you.” He almost breaks you, so you decide to reward him for this display at least. You silently press a kiss against his eager lips. He's ready to pull you in and ravish you with that alone, he’d do anything to hear your voice. You pull away. He tries making connections in his foggy mind, tracing through the past few days to see if there was anything he might’ve done for you to be this cruel to him. He can't think of any wrong doings, but.. he'll do anything.

“P-please? darling?” He stammers out, continuing to crawl towards you and sitting prettily on your lap. The view itself drove you mad. You could keep your lips sealed, but you couldn't prevent the blush becoming apparent across your cheeks. He hums, satisfied with this reaction at least.

“I don't know what's going on with you, but.. I love you.” Oh, shit. “.. I love you~” He repeats.

You keep your eyes away from him. This one was a struggle.

“T-That’s fine, don't tell me about your day.. o-or laugh at my jokes, but, darling-” he turns your head to face him, a hand lightly bringing you forward by your chin, you notice his eyes glowing. “I love you.”

…

Fine.

“I love you, too.” You said it quietly, a hint of defeat in your tone. He immediately perks up, shifting his grasp on your chin to thumb at your jaw, nearly encompassing your throat with his hand. Closing the already very small gap between your lips, he eagerly explores your mouth with his forked tongue. You yelp into his lips in surprise, before pushing him away carefully, seeing how much of a mess you've made him from just that phrase.

“Lucifer, that wasn't very nice, was it? You have to ask.” You said sternly, sitting up to rest your back on the headboard and pulling him with you to keep him seated on your thighs.

“W-Wha.. Ask? To kiss you? Well that seems.. rather…” He questions with a nervous laughter, waiting for the punchline. You only nod your head in agreement.

“Well.. can I kiss you, then..?” He asks awkwardly. It was cute enough, But this wasn't your original vision.

“Mmmm- no.” Making a big show out of tapping your chin and letting your eyes wander around the room, you finally look back at him.

“What? Oh- um.. please?” He clarifies, a now nervous smile present on his face.

“Please, what?” You start running your hands across his abdomen, letting them interlock behind his back and pulling him just a bit closer.

“C-can I kiss you.. please..?” You thought he'd be agitated at this point, but his voice is dripping with desperation. He likes it. You see his hips shifting just above your thighs.

“Hm. Maybe.. I just don't think you want it enough, my love.” You say sweetly, pouting as if you felt any remorse. You ran your hands up his chest, then back down his sides, brushing your fingers just slightly below his belt. He huffs.

“Sweetheart! I-I do want it! please..? I want you, p-please..” He finally moans out, panting heavily only from your hands along his bare skin. You couldn't help but smile, and finally give him what he wants. With a gentle kiss onto his lips, it's clear that he's shaking with anticipation. He wasn't jumping you like before or taking the lead to suffice his own desires. It's as if he was waiting for permission. You weren't going to give in that easily, though.

You pulled away after that single kiss, looking at him like you had just asked a question and were waiting for a proper response. Finally catching his breath, he braces himself up by keeping his hands on your shoulders. He looks at you with the sweetest puppy eyes, shifting his weight on his knees to ease the growing discomfort pressed in his pants.

“More, my love.. I need more- I-I need you to-” He's still rambling. You hum, letting the hand that had been sitting on his hip palm at the bulge in his pants. You learn forward, pressing your lips against his skin and running your tongue up his neck. He shivers, the sudden sensations after being ignored for so long already forces a pathetic sound from him, music to your ears. Your kisses become sloppy, and your little nips will surely bruise and shine by the next morning.

“I-I want- ahh~” He’s keeping up with it? You thought for sure this little game of yours had ended. You won and you're giving him the attention he finally needs, yet he's still begging for you? “talk to me.. darling-” he chokes out, moving his hands that had been tightly gripping your shoulders to cup your cheeks. You were pulled back by his touch, a slightly shocked expression on your face. “Please.” His eyes were brimming with tears. A single line of golden blood and saliva dripped from his mouth from biting a little too hard on his lip, in an attempt to keep his noises at bay. You moved your hands away from his buldge, which had accumulated a wet spot onto his trousers, then went back to trailing your fingers across his skin again.

“Okay.” You respond. He perks up at your acceptance, the little sparkle in his eyes brings a smile to your face. “Since you asked so nicely.” you said sweetly, “So.. how badly did you miss me? Only a few days like this and you’re already a mess.. did you miss our little conversations? My voice?” You question softly, brushing your thumb across his cheek to wipe away some stressed tears that had fallen. He nods, holding onto your hand and burying his cheek into your palm.

“-My touch?” You massage his hip, letting your hand drift closer to the clasps on his pants. He nodded again, much more eagerly this time. “Hm. Good.” with one final kiss to his lips, you push him to the side, swapping your positions, to where you were hovering over him with your arms caging him in. He barely has time to process the quick switch, before feeling your hands tug his pants. He's moaning at the sensation alone, holding onto whatever he could find, gripping your wrist in one hand and balling up the sheets in his other.

You linger above him, your lips just above his. You could feel him panting heavily against you, even before touching him. You'd normally be passionately entangled at this point, But here, you got the chance to see his face. You were enjoying taking your time with this one.

“You're being such a good boy for me.. you're doing so well.” Your eyes flutter shut to capture him in another heavy kiss, and you reach unto his pants, planning to slowly relieve his stress. A sudden request leaves his mouth, stopping you for a moment.

“N-no..! Nono.. love, my name. Use my name- please..” He's shaking his head, finally mustering the courage to make his request. Another new development. God, he was perfect. You move to his jaw, pressing kisses up to his ear before breathing heavily against it.

“Lucifer-” you finally say. He lets out a pathetic whimper, clamping his grip down onto your wrist and bucking his hips into your sudden, yet tantalizingly slow, palming. “You're doing so good for me, Lucifer. My Lucifer. My sweet, Luci~” you mutter into his skin, beginning to pump your hand a bit faster. He is doing so good for you, afterall, he deserves it.

This wasn't the only game you wanted to play tonight. you wanted to fully take care of your poor neglected king after all you've put him through. After toying with him for long enough, edging him from release each time, you finally let him rest. You pull away, after bringing him to the brink and tearing him away each time, you were reveling in his pretty tears. All the senses you were enrapturing suddenly put to a halt, forced him to look at you desperately. You fully dismount him, leaving him nude under your gaze. Slightly embarrassed, he pulls his legs together. You rest your hands gently on the top of knees.

“I’ll need both tonight, Luci.” You say casually. This was something you've tried before, and it was definitely due for a second round. You felt he needed the extra love. He nodded, his face completely heating up. walking your fingers across his legs and helping him take his trousers completely off, you were treated with the pretty sight of his already soaked pussy, that sat quite nicely below his already overstimulated cock. The combination of his two sexes was enough to drive a whimper even from you. You quickly dip down, your own desperation meeting his. After bringing him to the brink beforehand but not letting him finish, it wasn't long before he was squirming and whimpering under your touch.

Even with all that, he was still begging you for more. Drunk off his juices already, you ran your tongue up from his folds, flicking at his clit, then sending a heated trail right up to the head of his cock. he arches his back into the full exposure, and you have to keep your hands on his thighs to keep his legs from shutting. The agonizing moans and gasps he was letting out only made you want to hear more. Hastily pushing three fingers into his entrance, his voice cracked out some resemblance of your name. He doesn't use his other sex often, so when you get the chance to eat your fill, he's almost always struggling to keep any composure. pumping his cock in one hand, you skillfully pump and curl your fingers into him with the other, all the while maneuvering your tongue and lips to suction onto his clit.

“Mm-! I-I can't- ahha- take… anymore- m-mmy love-” He's stammering. You pull away for a moment to let out a single phrase,

“What do you say, Lucifer?” Before continuing your brutal overstimulation. Only hearing more whimpers, you slowed your motions, waiting for a proper response. You only speed up your movements, after keeping your thumb lightly pressed against the top of his head.

“P-Please-” he shoots his head back into the pillows, his legs already shaking. “Please, can I-I-” You hum against him, sending a mild vibration that still made a big impact, before lifting your thumb just slightly.

“You may, Lucifer.” You run your tongue across his entirety again, enclosing his cock into your mouth and taking in his final thrusts.

Still whimpering and gasping, you continue to bob your head, moving slow circles across his clit, and causing his body to fully tremor beneath you.

You finally sit up, enjoying the view beneath you, while wiping away anything that you didn't manage to already swallow. Even with his eyes closed from the pure exhaustion, he's muttering your name under his breath. You still don't know how you managed to get this lucky, so you appreciate his drunken appearance for a moment longer before cleaning him up and eventually settling him under the covers. You hold him tight to your chest, your limbs intertwined. Even with immense angelic power, he returns your embrace weakly, with shaky arms.

“I love you, Lucifer.” You hum, pressing a kiss onto his forehead while brushing some hair from his face. He's still catching his breath, “Luci-” you say just as sweetly. He barely opens his eyes to meet your gaze, still silent. With a gentle grip on his chin, you pull him upwards to fully face you. “I love you~” You repeat.

“Mmn- love you.. dear…” He grumbles, still clearly dazed from the events of the night. Running your thumb along his lower lip, you muffle his tired moan with a kiss, before letting him rest his chin comfortably against your chest. You’d say your little experiment was a success. And you're sure Lucifer learned a lesson along the way; He has to ask for what he wants.

♡♡♡

Hope you like intersex lucifer bc I recently discovered I LOVE INTERSEX LUCIFER

More requests and the next part to Suffer is comin' up soon 🫶

!Taglist!

( @vififofum / @thornwolfy235 / @tinywolfiegirl / @chipper-chip / @bat-boness / @misfitgirlwrites / @nayomi247 / @lonelynmisunderstood / @escapistoftherealworld / @b4ts1e / @hamthepan / @kyo-kyo1 / @looking1016 / @polytheatrix / @littledolly2345 / @lillianastuff / @yourlocalcryptidbee /@0strawberrysorbet0 / @themageofblood / @jayyyayaysblog / @floralsightings / @azmosposts / @8har0ley8 / @actuallyspiderwoman / @sirenetheblogger / @christineblood / @kaytemchugh / @cimadreamer / @simpdevil66 / @azmosposts / @m3ow1 / @acrazyartist / @redfoxwritesstuff / @4k1to / @meesachan / @corvusskid / @alientee /@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx / @alon3lylov3r /@sapphireravensworld / @mjmdragons / @catticora )

#hazbin hotel #hazbin #lucifer morningstar #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fandom #lucifer hazbin #lucifer magne #hazbin hotel smut #lucifer x you smut #lucifer x you #lucifer x reader smut #lucifer x reader #hazbin lucifer x reader

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kpop---scenarios · 2 days

Text

Day Three: Changbin

Pairing: Changbin x Reader

Warnings: Smut, Smut and..Smut [18+ MINORS DO NOT READ]

Word Count: 1.1k

Day One: Felix | Day Two: Jeongin |

You let out a big yawn, situating your outfit before you walk into the empty gym. Late on Friday nights, you had a private session with Changbin, your personal trainer. They usually close around 5 pm, but he always comes to train you at 8 pm every Friday. You like to think it's because he has a thing for you, but most likely, he's just trying to be accommodating. However, that doesn't stop you from relentlessly flirting back and forth with him.

You swore you could cut the sexual tension with a knife when things got sweaty and you were ready to take things to the next level, if he was interested, and tonight you were going to find out.

“Hey.” You smile, setting your bag down. Changbin turns around, a grin plastered on his face as he sets down his weights. “Hey you.” He says, walking over to you. “Are you ready to go hard?”

“I'm ready to go very hard.” You smirk. You can see a slight blush creep across his face.

“As usual, we'll start on the treadmill to warm up.” He says, pointing to the machine. You knew the routine, but he always told you. Treadmill for 30 minutes, stretching, squats, push-ups, sit-ups, the works. He liked to work you until you were dripping sweat.

An hour later you're laying on the mat, sweaty while he looked so fucking good. He wasn't sweating at all, in fact he smelled so fucking good. “Deadlifts today.” He grins. He knew you hated them, which is why it made him happy to make you do them. You weren't terribly upset about it, because now you could finally see if there was truly anything between the two of you. You get into place, the weights on your shoulders, your hands in position and Changbin standing behind you, closely for support. You squat down with the weights and as you come up, you stick your ass out every so slightly. Just enough for it to graze his cock. You're watching him in the mirror as you squat down again, and stick your ass out and graze his cock again. He lets out a deep breath as he shakes his head, trying to focus.

“Again.” He whispers. You squat down again, this time sticking your ass out even more, grazing him again, but you pause, squatting down again and going back up just to tease him a little more. You can feel how hard his cock is as you come back up.

Changbin clears his throat, stepping away from you. “Take a break.. I'm gonna lift some weights.” He says looking around, all his blood must have rushed to his other head. You watch him in the mirror lay down on the bench as he lifts weights. You can see his cock pressing against his sweatpants and you fucking wanted it. You walk over to him standing in front of his head to spot him. But instead you just distract him. You bend over letting your tits spill out of your sports bra a little.

“Fuck.” He groans, continuing to lift.

“You okay?” You ask, cocking your head to the side.

He sighs. “You're making it really hard to concentrate.”

“Why is that?” You ask.

“Because all I want to do is bury my cock so deep inside you.” He says, continuing to lift. You walk around standing near his legs now. He watches you as he lifts the weights up and down. He watches you slip off your shorts. He watches you get down on your knees and pull down his sweatpants, letting his cock spring free.

You get on your knees, wrapping your hand around his cock, slowly pumping him as you watch him struggle to focus on lifting the weights up. You laugh as you move forward a little more, wrapping your lips around his tip. You take your tongue, swirling it around the tip.

“Christ.” He groans, as he slightly bucks his hips. You slowly swallow more of him until he hits the back of your throat. “Fucking hell.” He yells as you bob your head, forcing his cock down your throat even more. You lift your head, taking a breath before you swallow it again, making him groan loudly.

“Sit on my cock before I fucking cum in your mouth.” He snaps. You release his cock with a pop, and stand up. You can feel your wetness spilling from inside you. You go to straddle him, placing your hands on his chest as you slowly sink down onto him. You throw your head back as your pussy swallows his cock. He thrusts up, pushing himself deep into you.

“Fuck.” You cry out, rocking on him, grinding your clit against him as you ride him. He reaches up, gripping your ass, giving you a hard slap as he thrusts up, slamming himself inside you. He rams himself inside you a few more times before he sits up, you continue to rock on him as he lifts up your sports bra, letting your tits out. Changbin reaches up, pinching your nipples before cupping your breasts, putting his face in between them. He wraps his lips around your nipple, sucking hard while you bounce on his cock.

“Oh shit.” He groans, his hands now roaming your body. “You gotta cum.”

“I'm.. right.. there.” You whine, grinding faster on him. Your clit was at the perfect angle to rub against him, the feeling of his cock deep inside you, leaking precum made your orgasm come even faster. “Fuck I'm cumming.” You cry out, your body tensing as pure pleasure releases through your body.

“I'm close.” He moans.

“Cum in my mouth.” You whisper. You get off of him, getting down onto your knees as you take him in your mouth, slurping up your cum from his cock, shoving him down your throat and sucking hard.

“Jesus christ.” He yells, throwing his head back. you use your hand to jerk him off while you sucked in his tip, teasing him, while your other hand gently groped his balls. “That's feels..so fucking good.” You start to go faster and harder, he was like putty in your hands, the pants and whimpers that came from his lips made you want to do more to him.

“Shit, I'm cumming.” He cries, his orgasm hitting him hard. He's breathing heavily as he shoots his cum into your mouth, panting from the unexpected work out. You look up at him and smile, swallowing his cum. He looks shocked, his mouth open wide.

“What? You haven't seen that before?” You chuckle.

“Nuh uh.” He says. “I'm keeping you forever.”

#changbin #changbin smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids #skz #seo changbin #skz writing #stray kids writing #skz fanfic #kpop fanfic #kpop writing #kpop smut

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vxnuslogy · 2 days

Text

— broken toys. ft sunday

— warnings: slight angst

— author's note: my entry to the sunday brainrot, aka me manifesting for playable sunday.

sunday was the most desired man in all of penacony, and for a good reason too.

head of the oak family; the most handsome bachelor on the planet; a preacher of harmony that wanted the best for his home; what was there to not like about him? you were no stranger to the way he stared at gatherings hosted by the family, his gaze lingered too much on you; happened too many times to count as a mere coincidence. it sent your heart into a blazing beat, one that made your cheeks flush whenever he stood anywhere near you. just hearing his voice – the awkward laugh that rang like wedding bells when mr. gopher wood joked about the two of you being a match made in heaven – it became your favorite thing in the world.

the idea of marrying sunday has always been on the table ever since you were children. one playdate after the other – most of which were spent on the beach – where you, sunday, and his darling little sister robin would create sandcastles for miles. role playing as the kingdom’s regency while robin sang you songs until she fell asleep. such fond memories manifested itself to a lightcone that now sat in your bedroom. mr. wood was not blind with the way sunday looked at you – neither were you – and ever since then, he’d consistently bug you to marry his adoptive son who hid behind his wings to save his face.

and so you did. you married the man of your dreams and relished in being loved like a saint.

every waking hour with sunday was spent with him worshiping the very ground you set foot on. slipping his hand under the table in meetings to fit yours because you were his rock, making sure he never strayed too far from you because to him, being away from you was the deadliest sin of them all. he loved you like the sun; burning brightly and warming your coldest days with only a whisper of sweet nothings in your ear as you let his touch scorch your skin in a way that made you wince but love him all the same. basking in the way his lips carved his name in your own with such passion you would close your eyes to everything else - he was the only view you would ever look at.

sunday burned brightly, but he burnt too quickly. just like how the sun could never stay in the sky forever, his revelry in you also faded like the waking night when the moon and stars started to replace him. sunday became too consumed in his goals of harmony, so much so that he lost his way that not even you, his darling, couldn’t save him from.

even if his hands still gravitated towards yours, they no longer had the same warmth that you savored in his presence. he confessed his deadliest sins – the sin of being away from you – every night under the night sky’s judgment, only to commit them again the following morning.

such was the cycle of sunday’s habit when he obtained his favorite toy.

he drowned himself in the great pleasures of finally having his hands on the toy he’s been pining over for years. indulging himself in the adoration he had for you even if sometimes, it flickered with something more sinister, something much darker than the adoration he bathed and convinced you in. you let him suffocate in this false devotion until he started to pull back in boredom. until his favorite toy - you - was no longer his favorite.

you would pull away, starting to realize how this was not right, only for him to come sweep you of your feet – the same awkward laughter that once rang like wedding bells now sounded like red sirens, warning you of the danger you’d always ignore – and your falling back into the same maze that was your husband.

#✒️ — works #hsr x you #hsr x reader #hsr angst #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail angst #hsr sunday #sunday x reader #sunday x you #sunday angst #honkai imagines #star rail x reader

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petriwriting · 3 days

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My Chef - Theodore Nott X Reader

Summary: You stay the night at Theo's, he makes you dinner. Oneshot. Fluff, Domestic Bliss, Little-bit of soft Theo. Established relationship, Sad-about-his-dead-mom-Theo.

A/N: You're telling me fannon italian!Theo can't cook pasta? Nah. Based on a scene from the movie chef. Bonus: Here's the recipe. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bJUiWdM__Qw

It was a quiet evening, you were at Theo's house, luckily his father hadn't bothered being home all weekend. Otherwise, the house would have been an un-ideal place to be with his father around. but the house was silent, apart from the Nott house elf, who was tidying the halls, despite Theo telling him to take the night off. You were wearing Theo's jumper, laying in his bed. You'd been relaxing. Since school was out for the summer, there wasn't really much else to do. You had mentioned you were hungry, and without much notice Theo disappeared into the kitchen. It was sweet, he said he could cook for you, which he had never done before.

You wandered through the halls of his house, looking curiously at how sterile the house seemed. There wasn't many family photos, or really much decoration. One photo was of Theo and his father, which made you smile slightly seeing it. As you made your way into the kitchen, you were met with the smell of fresh pasta.

Theo was kneading the dough, although he was unfortunately making a mess. He smiled as he greeted you. "Hi," he said softly. you sat at the kitchen counter, watching him work. "This part isn't as fun." He said. "Well it looks like fun." you chuckled. "Do you want to try?" he asked. "sure." you washed you hands, rolling up your sleeves and standing in front of the ball of dough on the counter, you were watching Theo's hands as he demonstrated. . .

Theo stood behind you, wrapping his arms around you, sprinkling some more flour over the work surface. "just like this." he said softly, taking your hands and guiding your movements. you flushed slightly, feeling the warmth of your cheeks from being so close to him. You could smell his scent, it was a mixture of tobacco and cedar.

"Okay, my arms are a bit sore now." you admitted. "Maybe it isn't all that fun." you said. Theo chuckled. "I'll take it from here then," he said happily. you turned to him, he was so close to your face. You wanted to kiss him, but didn't, instead taking a bit of flour and tapping it onto his nose. He laughed, playing along after wiping himself off.

"that was rude," he quipped jokingly.

You continued to linger around the kitchen, watching Theo as he cooked. You had no idea previously that he could cook, as it wasn't a skill that most men have.

The smell of fresh garlic filled the home as your stomach growled in hunger. Theodore Nott would make an amazing housewife, he was kind, attentive and he could cook. It made you feel warm and fuzzy to think that he would, in fact made an excellent husband one day. After some time, he broke the silence. "have a seat," theo said finally. "I'll set the table for us."

You follow suit, taking a seat at the large dining table. watching as Theo set two plates on the table, napkins, and cutlery. he even grabbed two glasses to pour each of you a glass of wine to pair with the dinner, finally lighting a candle, just for ambiance.

A relaxed afternoon had now blossomed into a somewhat romantic date. you were not complaining at all.

"Thank you for cooking, Ted." you said, before taking a bite. It was sweet, it wasn't very often that Theo would lean into his italian heritage, although on that night you were very thankful for it. "Of course," he says. "Buon appetito."

As you took your first bite, it was delicious. you were in awe, each flavor complimented each other perfectly. "oh merlin." you exclaimed. "This is delicious!" Theo smiled, watching you enjoy his work he was quite pleased with himself.

you finished up pretty quickly, sitting at the table with Theo. before too long you were sipping wine together. "Where did you learn to cook like that?" you asked curiously.

"Well," he said, slightly stiffening up. "My mother taught me to make fresh pasta as a child." he explained, "It's one of my favorite memories with her." he said somewhat sadly.

"Oh. I'm sorry." you said quietly. "It's alright." he insisted. "It's nice to honor her memory." you were silent, letting Theo speak, it was relief for him to finally be able to talk about it with someone who actually cared. you were happy to listen to him talk about his mother, or anything really. "I think she would have really liked you." he admitted. you smiled softly. "I would have loved to meet her." you said.

This was Theo's soft spot. "I wish she could have met you," he says, softly, looking down. You didn't want to pry, or come across as cold, so you rested your hand on his and rubbed his hand with your thumb gently. The two of you enjoyed your meal, and the glasses of wine. You were quietly because you were eating, and because it was genuinely a good home-cooked meal which you hadn't had in a while. after some time, You got up from your seat walking over to Theo, giving him a hug. a genuine embrace, which Theo melted into immediately.

"Thank you for dinner." you said softly. "It was really delicious. I didn't know you were secretly a chef," you smirked. This earned a chuckle out of Theo "Well, there's a lot most people don't know about me." he said. "But you aren't most people."

"yeah?" you asked, just wanting to hear him talk. when he opened up, which he rarely did from being scolded for it so many times in his life, it made you feel closer to him. "Yes."

"I don't think i've ever told anyone that before- About my mother." he admitted. "But it's different with you."

"why is that?" you asked. "Because i'm in love with you." he says simply, standing up, looking at you deeply. He was playing with your hands. you were smiling. it was a blissful moment. He was memorizing the contours of your face in the candle-light. he looked at you as if he would never see you again, soaking in the feeling. "And..." he said, very matter-of-factly, his more outward cocky attitude showing a bit more as he relaxed. "you know what they say," you looked at him, pretending to be confused. "What do they say?" you retorted. "Kiss the chef." he smiled softly, leaning into the embrace to kiss you, melting into the moment. It was a sweet and romantic kiss that you'd find in romance novels.

"I love you." he whispered. "I love you."

#reader insert #my writing #x reader #hp x reader #slytherin x reader #theodore nott x reader #hp #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott

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zerokaram · 13 hours

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college basketball!abby x reader

synopsis: you're suddenly seeing abby, your best friend since your childhood, in a new lens. is it her arms? her strength? her drive? or the way she refuses to talk to, or even look at any other girl but you?

a/n: these are formatted like headcannons + scenarios to match them! not necessarily like a fic unfortunately. but if you guys would want that, i'd be glad to write something along those lines. enjoy!

at first, it was just something small. something so, so extremely small. maybe sometimes, she would look a little too good after practice. the way the wisps of her hair would stray out of her braid, her arms glistening in sweat and her shirt practically see-through from how hard she worked in the gym prior to her practice. or maybe it was the way she constantly towered over you, how she looked down at you when you two spoke, or how her arms carried everything and anything effortlessly, toned and muscular.

you don't know if you were just fucking imagining it or what, but holy, fucking, shit.

was it just your brain fucking with you? maybe you were just desperate or something?

you didn't know. but you were embarrassed to admit the fact that you were completely, and utterly infatuated with your 100% platonic best friend that you definitely should not be and definitely aren't swooning over. she was just a friend, and for gods sake, your best friend at that.

she just came home to your dorm, which she's been staying at for a few weeks now, covered in sweat. her arm and leg muscles practically bulging from her jersey, about to burst the fabric at their seams with only that and a compression shirt under it, paired with shorts that you've probably borrowed from her, her hair in a messy braid; stray strands sticking to her face.

anyone would be sensible enough to drool at this shit. it wasn't your fault that you had a hot best friend. right? i mean- what?

okay, but you couldn't help it that she had really nice arms. really defined, muscular, beefy, strong, capable, sporty, hot, sexy arms. it was just a general thing. it definitely couldn't just be you. this is totally fucking normal for a 100% platonic relationship. like, yeah. this is literally just normal. its literally just normal.

soon, your stares burned into her back. she could practically feel the way your eyes lingered from her face, trailing to her arms, and all the way down to her thighs. turning around to face you, she inquires cluelessly as if she didn't plan this whole scenario out on purpose. "baby, you okay? you look...dazed or something." she says, sneaking in a smile once she turns around again to get herself a glass of water.

baby. baby? did you hear that right?

you probably heard it wrong. you snicker, "oh, yeah. yeah i'm..fine."

one of abby's big games were coming up. only one more game, and it would mean that her and her team finally won the whole season. usually, she'd be pumped to finally get to train for the moment she's been dreaming of since the season started, but something's been conflicting her. a certain someone. she's had a crush on you for at least 5 years now, but the crush has been at it's all time high ever since you've started wearing her jerseys, her hoodies, and her clothes this past semester. god, fuck it. why not offer for you to do it again?

lounging on abby's couch in nothing but her hoodie and some boxers of hers that you found lying on your side of the bed from when you slept over, you held your phone in your right hand, scrolling through tiktok, while you held a cup of coffee in the other. abby (very willingly) agreed to let you sleep over at her place for as many nights as you wanted, since your roommates aggravatingly threw parties all day and night long.

you were interrupted by the door abruptly creaking open, abby stepping through the door, still in her basketball gear. she set her things down onto the kitchen counter, taking her hoodie off, revealing a more comfortable shirt under. she joins you on the couch; lying on her stomach, making a groaning noise. "shit..arms fuckin' hurt." she says, muffled whines getting silenced by the pillow she stuffed her head in.

you chuckle at her childishness. she's kinda always been like that, hasn't she? "too bad." you say, to which she frowns with a slight pout, looking up at you, wanting you to change your answer. you have no choice but to oblige. "-whatever. what can i do to help?" you ask in a playful tone, flashing her a smile.

she gets up from her position almost immediately, sprinting to her bedroom and grabbing her jersey before quickly running back to the living room and throwing the jersey in your face as if she planned this. "wear this to my next game." she says in a half-laughing, cocky way. you desperately pry the piece of fabric off of your face, trying to process what just happened. "no fuckin' way abs." you say, teasing her. you take a look at the shirt. it had 22 on the front, with ‘anderson’ printed on the back.

she frowns, sighing as she flops next to you, snaking her arms around you and stuffing her face in your shirt (in a definitely 100% platonic way). "c'mon." she says, "need someone to cheer f'me. js' wanna see my girl cheer for me. it would make me so happy."

you chuckle at 'my girl', "abs. this isn't helping with the rumors about us."

she accidentally blurts out, "don't fuckin' want it to."

...what?

before she knows it, and before you two could even talk about what she just said to you a few days before, it was finally game day. screams and cheers of girls who came just to see abby stretched from one part of the arena to another, echoing in your eardrums. you said you weren’t going to, but of course you wore her fucking jersey anyway.

abby looked into the crowd of people, searching for you desperately. she couldn’t play without you watching :’((.

about to give up on finding you, she feels two hands come around the side of her torso, hugging her from behind. she turns around to see you. wearing her jersey.

“you better win, i’m not parading your name on me for nothing.” you say sarcastically.

#abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby tlou #abby x fem!reader #abby x reader #the last of us #tlou #tlou smut #abby anderson smut #abby the last of us #tlou2 #tlou fanfiction #abby fanfiction #wlw #wlw yearning #wlw ns/fw #wlw community #lgbtq

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golden1u5t · 1 day

Text

backwards | s.r x fem!reader

ꨄ requested: anonymous

ꨄ genre: smut + fluff

ꨄ summary: you and spencer never got along, with him just getting back from prison and you being the newbie, until you do and things start moving faster than expected.

you hated when prentiss paired you together and you definitely couldn't stand being in a confined space with him for more than a few seconds at a time. you knew why emily did it though, always pair you and spencer up together, she thought that if she made you be around each other then your relationship would change and you would become friends at the least.

she had assigned you and spencer to go to the coroner's office together as soon as the jet landed, not giving you enough time away from each other before having to be in the car together alone.

"you're insufferable, you do know that right?" you shook your head, sneaking a glance at him before turning back to the road. spencer snickered and mumbled about how you should stop denying your feelings for him. you laughed and shook your head once more, "insufferable."

spencer couldn't help but look at you when the sound of your laughter traveled through his ears, he found himself staring at you longer than he should've have. he loved hearing you laugh, even though you didn't do it much when he was around. he's usually lucky enough to walk into the room when you're laughing with garcia or ji, even though you'd stop laughing the moment you realized he was there.

he couldn't figure out why you hated him so much, hell, he couldn't figure out why he hated you so much. it was the same way with you, you couldn't figure it out either but deep down there was something in both of you that knew you didn't really hate each other.

the day went on and you and spencer did everything you were assigned to, everything was just fine until you got to the hotel. the team stood in the lobby while emily assigned rooms to you all. emily paired herself with tara, ji with garcia(who rarely ever came out on cases), matt with luke, and everyone knew rossi got a room to himself.

emily turned to you and spencer and that's when you knew you were totally fucked, she handed you and spencer two key's to the room you'd be sharing. you didn't spare either of them a second glance before picking up your bags and storming off to the elevators, spencer caught up to you just before the doors closed. you both were silent all the way until up got to the room and saw that there was only one bed.

"damnit, emily! she did this on purpose, i know it. this is what took her so long at the desk." you huffed and tossed your bags on the bed. spencer closed the door behind him and walked further into the room, he set his bags on floor. you turned around and crossed your arms over your chest. "you're so sleeping on the floor, i refuse to sleep in the same bed as you. I hate you-"

spencer shut you up by crashing his lips into yours and with no hesitation, you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him back. his hands landed on your waist and he stepped forward to press your bodies together.

"you don't really hate me." he mumbled into your hair, his fingers pressing into your hips brought you back to reality. your arms dropped back to your sides and you pushed his chest, your skin was hot as you fought the urge to reach up and trace your lips of where his had been.

you turned around and quickly pulled out everything you needed to take a shower and get ready for bed. you walked to the bathroom but before you closed the door you turned and looked at him. "no, i do. i truly do hate you."

+++

"i'm not sleeping on the floor again! i've slept on the floor for the past 2 nights." spencer shook his head as he tossed his pillows on the bed.

you bit your lip and sighed, you walked over to the bed and turned the lamp off before climbing into the bed and pulling the covers over your body. "fine but stay on your side."

spencer scoffed, as if he was telling you that he wouldn't dare touch you again, and got in bed. he turned the lamp off and settled against his pillows. some time during the night you felt spencer's arm wrap around your waist. thinking that you would just blame it on being asleep when you woke up, you scooted back and pressed your back against his front.

spencer smiled to himself and wrapped his arm around you tighter, he pressed his fingers into your skin but not enough to be painful. "you're not asleep."

"neither are you." you mumbled, closing your eyes even though you had no intention of going to sleep. spencer's hand started to move over the expanse of your stomach, you caught his wrist in your hand to stop him from moving. "just go to sleep and we can forget this ever happened in the morning."

"you know, if you just stop forcing yourself to dislike me we could do a lot of fun things together.' he hummed. you bit back a smile and turned around to face him, the only light in the room was the light coming from the moon so your eyes strained a bit to see him.

"i bet you would love to have sex with me, i bet you dream about it, don't you? i'm what's on your mind when you're jerking off in your room, huh?"

"in fact, yes, you're always on my mind." his lips curled up into a grin. you're body tensed and your eyebrows furrowed, your lips slightly parted as you tried to process what he'd said. "don't act so shocked."

you let out a shaky breath and blindly reached behind you and turned the lamp on so you could really see his face. the room was silent for a few minutes, just you and spencer staring at each other with mixed emotions.

in those few minutes you thought through all the possible outcomes if you were to give into him, you went through all the emotions you could go through before deciding that one time wouldn't hurt.

"this will only happen once and if you tell anyone, i will murder you with my bare hands." you leaned down and brushed your lips against his. spencer chuckled and pulled you all the way into his lap, he brought his left hand up to cup the back of your head and pressed your lips together.

you couldn't help the sigh that left you when your lips collided. you realized that spencer was right, you didn't really hate him, you were just extremely attracted to him and it pained you to admit it.

a chill ran down your spine when spencer moved his hand down your back and grasped your hips, he started to rock your hips over his growing bulge. you pulled away from the kiss and sat all the way up, you started to pull his shirt over his head before doing the same for yours.

spencer only gave himself a few seconds to admire you before flipping you over so he was on top. he hooked his fingers in the waistband of your shorts and panties.

"can i take these off?" you nodded your head but quickly breathed out a'yes' when he hadn't moved the first time. you planted your feet on the bed and lifted your hips so he could get the clothes off.

now, spencer took as much time as he wanted to admire your body, his eyes scanning over your body and lingering on certain parts long enough to make you want to cover yourself up. to take the focus off of you, you reached for the string holding his sweatpants up. spencer helped you get his pants and boxer off.

when you looked down and saw his cock, your eyebrows furrowed, he was slightly thicker than you imagined. you could deal with his length, slightly under average, but it was his girth that got you. you sat up on your forearms and met his gaze before looking back down and wrapping your hand around his cock, quietly whimpering when you realized that the tip of your middle finger just barely touched the tip of your thumb.

"are you done gawking?" spencer teased, you let go of his cock and laid back down. spencer situated himself on his stomach between your legs, he pulling your legs over his shoulders and wrapped his arms around your thighs to keep them open.

"i didn't say anything to you when you were staring at me." you rolled your eyes, though your heart was nearly beating out of your chest as you could feel his breath on your cunt. spencer moved his hands up your thighs so he could use his thumbs to spread your slick folds.

your eyes fluttered closed as spencer ran his tongue through your slit. the taste of you nearly drove him crazy, he shuffled forward and wrapped his lips around your clit as his eyes closed.

spencer didn't take as much time as he wanted to since it was past midnight and it would be time for you to get ready to go back to working on the case soon, so instead he traveled down and pressed his tongue into your entrance.

letting out a shaky breath, you pushed your hand into his hair and pulled him further into your cunt. your moans traveled straight to spencer's cock, making it twitch from where it laid between himself and the bed.

spencer groaned into your cunt and moved his hand so he could play with your clit.

"don't stop, fuck- m'so close!" you whined, thighs twitching around his head. spencer curled his tongue just before pulling away from your sobbing cunt, your eyes flew open as your orgasm settled down in your core.

"why'd you stop?"

"i want to feel you when you cum." he leaned over your body and kissed you before you could say anything else. you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled his closer, pulling away from his lips when you felt his cock brush against your folds. spencer wrapped his hand around his cock and guided it through your slit. "can i?"

"yes." you took a deep breath and closed your eyes as you realized that you were really doing this, you weren't regretting anything though. spencer started to push his hips forward, he brought his hand back up to stabilize himself as he bottomed out.

he gave you both a moment to adjust and tucked his head in the crook of your neck, he pulled his hips back and snapped them into yours. you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and gripped at his hair.

it took him a few minutes before he found a good rhythm that you both enjoyed but when he did, the sound of your moans and whines blended together perfectly. spencer grazed his teeth over your collarbone before starting to make a mark, fortunately he was reasonable enough to make it low enough that it wouldn't show over the collar of your shirt.

you'd always thought that this position was more intimate than the others and you usually did good with avoiding it when you were having sex with no strings attached, but with spencer you didn't mind.

you felt your orgasm bubbling back up through your core but with more intensity. spencer shifted to get in a better position which cause his cock to shift and press against the spongy button that drove you mad.

"right there- don't move." you gasped, your grip on his hair tightened and your walls started to clamp down on his cock.

"yeah? right here?" he snapped his hips into yours harder and brought his hand down between your bodies to rub your clit in order to make you cum faster. he grunted into your skin as he fucked into you, feeling as though your cunt was pushing him out with out tight you were around him.

a few more snaps of his hips and you were tugging on his hair as you came, your legs twitching around his waist. spencer groaned as his cock twitched, he captured your lips in a gentle kiss.

spencer pulled back and inhaled a sharp breath as his orgasm ran through him, his thrust slowed down until they came to a stop. he carefully pulled out and moved off of you, his chest rose and fell heavily as he tried to catch his breath.

"this is the first and last time this is happening." you glanced at him before getting out of bed and going to the bathroom. spencer smiled to himself because he knew deep down that it would happen again.

+++

even though you said having sex with spencer would never happen again, it did. you kept running back to each other over and over, having careless sex, until you found yourself standing in the bathroom with a pregnancy test sitting on the counter.

"wait! don't- don't look at it yet, i'm not ready." you put your hand on spencer's wrist to keep him from flipping the test over and revealing the results. it had been well over five minutes since you took the test but you just couldn't bring yourself to look at it.

"okay- we can wait until you're ready." spencer put his hand on your arm in efforts to reassure you. you looked at him and let out a shaky breath, you knew that no matter how long you put it off the results wouldn't change.

"i'm ready."

spencer gave your arm a light squeeze before flipping the test over, two bold lines confirming that you were pregnant. your body tensed as you stared at the test, your breathing uneven.

"y/n..." spencer cupped your face and made you look at him, he wiped the stray tears from your cheeks. "we can do this, you know. me and you, together."

you nodded you head and leaned forward into his chest. the longer you stayed in his arms, the more you calmed down and came to terms with the fact that you were actually pregnant. "what are we supposed to tell the team?"

"i'm not sure. maybe we'll just wait until you start showing or something." he pressed his lips to your head, already imagining himself what your child would look like. "since i got you- uhm- since we're gonna be having a baby, i think it's only right that i ask you to-"

"are you about to ask me to marry you? that's a big step, from being friends to being married." you pulled back from his chest to look at him.

"yes, that is a big step but no, i'm not asking you to marry me. not now at least." he chuckled. "i would like you to be my girlfriend, though."

"so you get me pregnant first and then ask me to be your girlfriend? that’s a bit backwards." you teased with a smile on your face, spencer shrugged and returned the smile. "of course, i'll be your girlfriend."

#golden1u5t #myrarants #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader fluff #spencer reid x fem!reader smut

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astralis-ortus · 3 days

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weighted blankets and projector

✱ a bang chan headcanon

— as long as you're happy, then chan is happy too.

w.count → 0.6k genre → fluff. very soft fluff. warning → none! a.n → originally wanted this to be a single post with streetlights and warm nights, but the fluff would be out of control (and i got too delirious to actually continue writing lol) sooo here's the second part!

although chan loves adventures, he also doesn’t mind spending your date nights inside.

foods and games would be the most important factor chan takes into consideration. your pool of dinner choices might be a little more limited when you’re bound to a certain location, but that’s what his little games are for.

you’re feeling like having some fried chicken? of course he’ll get them for you, but make sure you win the rounds of truth or dare or you might not be able to get even a single bite of those golden goodness (who are you kidding—he’ll definitely cave once you put on your puppy eyes, just like how seungmin taught you). hot pot night? no worries, his uno cards will help you two determine whether your dinner of the night follows his mild tastebuds or your daring ones. chan will get your every dinner requests, and put a fun twist on them just to see your smile.

when all the food is gone, chan would then pull out the weighted blanket he bought and kept especially for your date nights, all under the pretense of ‘i heard it’s good for you’ (when in actuality, he just needed wanted a tiny extra help in keeping you glued to his side).

what you’ll be doing from then on is a free arena—there are days where you’d just talk for hours on end, laughing at whatever silly things each other would say. on other days, you’d spin a wheel and let fate choose which of your all time favorite movies will you be rewatching that night (which, oddly enough, mostly fell to either the deadpool series or a few ghibli movies). there are also days where both of you decided to just melt next to each other while doing your own thing—chan with his laptop, while you, on the other hand, finishes the book you’ve been dying to read all throughout the week.

just as you’re about to feel drowsy after all fully digesting your dinner, chan would then draw a warm bath for you to relax in, bath bombs and all. he’d always tell you to take your time when you’re having your bath; he needed the extra time to pick out your set of matching pajamas set (yes, he wears one too), as well as setting up the candles and the new galaxy light projector he just bought a couple days ago. you once told him it looked pretty, and being the good boyfriend and devoted astrophile he is, of course he remembered it.

if your bath was chan’s way of taking care of you, then you doing his skin and hair care routine is your way of taking care of chan. you always treasure every opportunities you have to be so up close with him, taking note of his features while he’s surrendered under your gentle touch. you’d note every single speck of his freckles, every stray curls on his forehead, every faint smile lines he had etched over the years on the surface of his skin, which only grew in definition after he met you.

and you fall in love again.

maybe a little bit harder,

maybe a lot deeper.

now all warm and cuddled up under the layer of comfy duvet, you finally snuggled close to chan, allowing his body heat to entirely encapsulate you. the echo of his heartbeat is loud and clear, turning you all blush and giggly while sleep gently knocks on your eyelids. chan would say a couple things—noting how nice your new shampoo smelled, or how soft the layer of pajama is over your skin, but when he noticed your absence of reply, his smile would soften as he watches your sleeping face. chan would place a kiss on your forehead and held you tighter, wishing that even in his dream, the only person he would see is you.

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rougecreator1 · 3 days

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wassup man. hey i got a requestion. Could you write a Regina Georgee fic where she andd NB!Reader are in a secret relationship but Y/N is dysphoric, and regina reassures them she won't leave them for someone else? Lots of praise, physical touch for comfort (smut only if ur comfy!! xx) + regina wears Y/N's letterman jacket to hard launch at school the next day so everyone knows her ass is owned by Y/N? If you do make it smut, bottom!regina would be great with whimpering and begging Thanksssssssssssssss

You're Beautiful ||

|| Regina George x nonbinary!reader

|| Warnings: minors don't interact, first time posting smut (just a small amount, isn't the main focus and doesn't go overly detailed; does skip through some of it), body dysphoria and description of how it feels, reader being upset, some swearing, regina comforting reader which means somewhat out of character regina, bottom!regina, top!reader

|| Summary: Reader struggles with body dysphoria, Regina assures the reader they're beautiful which leads to reader showing Regina they're thankful for her... the next day, Regina shows the school who owns her.

Requests open!

Started: May 2nd

Finished: May 10th

~~~

This week has been absolutely awful, mental health wise. Everything else was about the same. Which you were grateful for, you really didn't need any extra stress from school drama or assignments.

You had stayed the night at Regina's place, having decided to have a cozy Thursday night in with your girlfriend instead of attending the usual parties and such. You ordered take out and watched a movie. Regina's always had this certain image about her, but behind closed doors? When it was just the two of you? She could be so uncharacteristically soft. The first time it happened you had to do a double take and stare at her; wondering if that was really your girlfriend or if she had a twin you didn't know about.

Speaking of her being your girlfriend. Nobody knew about the two of you. You were considered an outcast for your gender identity, the only ones in the school that didn't judge you (besides your girlfriend) were Janis and Damien. They were pretty much your best friends because of it. And only friends...

You were currently getting changed in the bathroom; something you usually did, much to Regina's annoyance. She would always tell you you could change in front of her, that she didn't mind and in fact insisted that you did this. It's not like she hasn't seen you like that before anyway. But you always made up some excuse for why you couldn't and then scrambled off to the bathroom before she could stop you.

Today had been no different.

When you finally got out, Regina turned and looked at you. Eyes scanning your body. Instinctively your arms went to your stomach and you took a step back. Trying to avoid her gaze. You hadn't changed into anything different, just your regular set of pyjamas. Despite that you couldn't help feeling self conscious about your body. It wasn't what you wanted. Some days, you managed... others? Others were harder. You wished certain body parts could just be detachable. Well, they were with the right surgery but you didn't have that kind of money and you sure as hell weren't about to ask Regina.

When you backed away from her, she raised an eyebrow and took a couple steps closer until her hands gripped your waist and pulled you in flush against her.

"Where do you think you're going?" She smirked at you, hand trailing up your side. Sending a shiver down your spine as you bit your bottom lip in response.

"I..." You take a breath, gathering your thoughts. Do you tell her about your insecurities? "Not today, Regina. Please." You voice was barely above a whisper, feeling vulnerable in the moment.

She looked almost offended for a brief second but her features softened as she looked into your eyes, trying to get a good read on how you were feeling. She could see your vulnerability and it all clicked in place.

She sighed deeply and grabbed your hand, pulling you over to the bed as she made you sit down before straddling your lap and looking into your eyes. Her hand rested under your chin.

"You are fucking beautiful." Regina whispered, giving your jawline a kiss." So damn handsome."

"Regina- that's not-" You stuttered out, though whatever you were going to say died in your throat as she kissed your jawline. Your hands instinctively went to wrap around her waist to keep her in your lap.

"What? That's not true?" Regina's eyes met yours again and you shook your head. That wasn't what you were going to say.

"That's not what I meant. I can't stand my body, it makes me feel sick just thinking about it. This isn't who I am in my head and it hurts. How can you be with someone like me? Someone who can't even accept their own body?" You admitted out loud how you really felt, it felt good haven't it out but it hurt talking about it. Tears brimmed your eyes.

Regina frowned as she listened to you, she knew being nonbinary was hard for you. She knew you were hurting. She never realized just how much.

"Because I love your body. I love your mind. I love you. Alright? I'm not going to fucking leave you for someone else, you have what I want even if you can't see it for yourself. You're beautiful." Regina replied, her hands trailing along your sides as she speaks; making you shiver under her touches.

"Alright?" She asked again, her lips now brushing against your neck. You tilt your head to the side almost instinctively, allowing for her to have easier access as she kisses your neck. Sucking on the skin until a mark is left behind. Her finger gently touch it, making you shudder as she laughs a little. You were so easy. Every little thing she did had an effect on you.

"Mm..." You tried talking, but it came out as a soft hum instead of the 'okay' you had tried to say. Your mind wasn't fully settled, Regina could tell just looking into your eyes.

"You're beautiful. My handsome partner." Regina whispered into your ear, making you blush. You could tell what she was doing, giving praise to lessen your thoughts. You appreciated her for it.

You nodded slowly, taking in her words and allowing them to sink into your mind. Even if they were hard to accept.

"Better?" She asked, her hand now resting below your neck as her fingers just barely graze against it.

"Better... thank you." You mumbled, letting your eyes close as you melted under her touch.

"That's not a real thank you. Show me just how much you appreciate me." She whispered into your ear again, you blushed a deeper shade of red as you read between the lines of what Regina really meant.

She looked at you expectantly, you rolled your eyes but that didn't hide the smile (or blush) on your cheeks.

Regina smirked when she saw it and laid back in bed, head rested on the pillow as she grabbed you by your arms and pulled you on top of her.

You easily followed, laying your body down on hers as you began giving her neck soft kisses. Her head tilted to the side in response, eyes closed as she melted into the feeling.

Regina wouldn't call herself submissive, she wasn't submitting to you. She was more of a pillow princess, she wanted her body to be worshipped by you. Treated like a Goddess.

Your soft kisses became harder as you sucked on her skin, leaving that oh so familiar mark. Matching the one Regina had given you just moments before. You heard a soft whimper escape Regina's lips, so you kept going. Getting more of that sound from her. You made sure to start slow so you could worship her body the way she had wanted; and show her just how thankful you were. You'd spend the whole night treating her if you could.

"More... please." Regina almost begged, her tone sounding desperate. Part of her wanted you to just skip the worshipping and get right into the hard stuff, the other part of her wanted to be worshipped and praised. She felt torn.

"Hm? What's that, baby?" You smirked against her neck, looking up for a brief moment to lock eyes with hers. God, you loved being able to make her this desperate.

Regina gritted her teeth, trying to keep herself from begging for it but she knew you wouldn't give her what she wanted if she didn't.

"Fuck you." She cursed, you held back a laugh. You knew she was just frustrated with how you were doing this.

"Keep talking like that and I'll just stop all together." You whispered in her ear, sending a shiver through her body." Go on, beg me."

Regina's eyes closed again as she kept her mouth shut, when she felt you start to pull away and get up... she grabbed you and held you in place on top of her.

"Don't stop."

You smirked, knowing you had her exactly where you wanted her. You gave her throat a kiss and continued on with what you had been doing before... only you upped it a notch like Regina had asked for.

~~~

The next morning, you had woken up sore as you took your spare clothes and went to change in the bathroom like you normally did. Regina had felt you getting out of bed and started to stir, sitting up and rubbing one of her eyes.

Her eyes narrow when she sees you heading to the bathroom with your clothes.

"Y/N." Regina spoke up, her tone a mixture of stern and tired with sleep.

You stopped in your tracks, hand on the door frame as you looked back at your girlfriend and tilted your head in confusion.

"Yeah?"

"Get your ass over here." Regina demands, you sigh and listen. Going to her bedside. She grabs you by your waist and suddenly pulls you into her lap, making you gasp at the sudden action.

"Regina-"

She cuts you off with a kiss, making you quickly shut up and melt into her body.

Regina parts the kiss and stares into your eyes, hand gripping your chin to make sure you had your full attention on her.

"You're changing out here. Repeat what I told you yesterday." Her tone was stern, but it didn't come from a place of meanness like it usually does for everyone else. She was always a little softer on you.

"You told me a lot of things yesterday," You gave a teasing response back, you knew what Regina wanted you to say. You wanted to see how much you could get away with.

She rolled her eyes, her grip tightening around your chin just slightly." Don't be a smartass."

"Fine... I'm beautiful." You muttered, she could tell by how you said it you didn't mean it.

"Y/N." Her tone remained the same.

"I'm beautiful." You repeat, Regina kissed your cheek and let go of your chin.

"Damn right you are. Now get dressed. Where's your jacket?" She added, looking around her room for a brief moment to see if she could spot it.

You looked at her in confusion. Your jacket?

"My letterman jacket?" You asked, wondering why the hell Regina would want it.

"Yeah. Where'd you put it?"

"Um... I think it's on the couch downstairs. Why?"

Regina rolled her eyes, getting out of bed. There was a slight shake in her legs which made you smirk, feeling pretty damn proud of yourself because you knew she was still effected by the night before.

"I'm wearing it. Obviously."

"To school?" Your eyes widened a little, that jacket had your last name on it. Was she seriously about to reveal your relationship?

"No, to a funeral. Yes, dumbass." Regina narrowed her eyes, annoyed with the amount of questions you were asking though she couldn't help feeling a little amused when she saw your reaction. She was planning on hard launching your relationship. She wanted people to know she was taken by you. She wanted it to be the talk of the school. She knew exactly what she was doing with this.

And sure enough, everyone at school knew Regina belonged to you and that you belonged to her. When they saw her in your jacket it started so many rumours and for the first time in your entire highschool life... nobody bothered you. They didn't want to risk the wrath of Regina George.

#x reader #fanfic #canon x reader #mean girls x reader #mean girls #regina george #nonbinary reader #regina george x nonbinary reader

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freelancearsonist · 1 day

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fresh out the slammer

➔ Javier Peña x afab!Reader

➔ 4.4k words

➔ Javier Peña moves home and, in the process, breaks the invisible bubble of your complacency.

➔ Rated MA // reader is afab (female anatomy, no pronouns used), age gap (reader is 23, javi is mid-30s), infidelity (reader is married), unprotected p in v sex, oral (reader receiving), pet names, smoking/nicotine use, reader wears a dress

You’re not sure when the ring on your finger, a glistening band that you used to admire so much, transformed into a shackle.

You loved him at one point, you’re sure you did. You never would’ve ended up here otherwise. You’re not weak, you’ve never been the type to need a partner in order to feel complete. You got married because you were in love, because you thought that you would love your husband for the rest of your life.

It’s terrifying how quickly the illusion of comfort comes crashing down when you meet Javier Peña.

You’ve heard so much about him that he’s nearly a thing of legend, despite never having met him. Your neighbor Chucho is incredibly proud of his only son. Every day that you go over to help around the house with Chucho’s seemingly endless list of chores, you’re regaled with stories about the fearless Deputy-turned-Agent Peña; about how the world will be changed and molded by Javier’s hands. It’s hard to believe all the tall tales that Chucho weaves, and still there’s undeniable reverence in your mind as you catch a glimpse of Javi’s handsome face in the photo frames that you dust.

All the stories you hear, though, never could have prepared you for the real deal.

He shows up without warning one sweltering afternoon and sets his bags down on the floor with a hefty thump, clearly confused at the beautiful stranger in his father’s kitchen. Apparently, Chucho didn’t warn him about you, either.

He knows within seconds of stepping through the door that you’re off-limits–he’s trained his eyes to seek out the glistening golden band on your left ring finger. But the more you talk to him, the more you look at him, the more you smile at him… he can’t help wondering more and more exactly how off-limits you are.

Days don’t blur together the same way they once did for you. You find yourself eager to visit your neighbor just for a chance to glimpse the easy smile that Javi reserves for you–his pretty next door neighbor, his friend.

It’s so painfully easy to like him, even despite your best efforts to the contrary. He’s the perfect gentleman–always says ‘please’ and ‘thank you’, holds doors open for you, helps you carry in groceries. He thrives with acts of service, and it shows. He seems like he genuinely likes spending time with you. He tells you the lighter stories of his time with the DEA, and you tell him stories in return. Mostly about your childhood so you can avoid what your life has become since then: just a moon spinning mindlessly in the gravitational orbit of your husband. Nothing more than a phantom floating around your boringly nice little house, in your boringly nice little neighborhood.

You were so young when you uttered the vows that would become chains. Eighteen, fresh-faced and wide-eyed and all those other descriptors that come with youth and naivety. You had wanted to be wanted, and your husband had wanted you. It could’ve gone on forever without a wake-up call.

Then there’s Javi and everything changes because of him. With each passing day, you grow closer and closer to a man who isn’t yours. Bit by bit, Javi pries the steel trap of your doubts open without even meaning to–and when those doubts pour out, they come like a flood.

You used to sleep so soundly in the king-sized bed you share with your husband. But now, there are late nights where you lay awake in that bed and you wonder even as you lay beside your husband if you were too hasty in marrying him so young.

Your quiet resentment was at least subconscious before Javi strolled in, short sleeved button-up shirt sweaty from the late summer humidity and dark wash jeans hugging those broad hips in a way that should be considered a crime. You leave his house and return home to a husband who takes you for granted, who thinks your care of him is just the bare minimum, and it chafes.

You try not to let it bleed over, but little comments you make paint a much larger picture. Javi can tell as clear as day that you’re not being appreciated–that you’re even starting to feel trapped.

Your friends start to see it too, on the few occasions you go out. You’re a bit more transparent with them, because they can read you like a book regardless of how much you try to hide. That’s the hardest part of coming to terms with how unhappy you are; that you were wrong, that you made a stupid decision, and the people around you know it. You’ve never been good at admitting mistakes, and this is the biggest mistake you possibly could’ve made. The vows you made to your husband are supposed to be engraved in stone for eternity.

You know you should focus on fixing this rather than condemning it. You were happy before, and you could be happy again. Then you look up into Javi’s dark eyes, and you start to think that you might never be happy if it’s not those eyes that you come home to each night.

It’s infinitely harder when you can feel the burgeoning desire every time you step foot in his home. Javi knows it’s not his place to speak his mind, but it’s right there in the look on his face. He thinks you deserve better, even if better isn’t him. That’s the part he fights to keep to himself; that he so desperately wishes it could be him. Javi could appreciate you the way you deserve, Javi could make you happy. If you would just give him a chance, he could change everything for you. He’s so willing to ignore the doubts and the what-ifs in favor of the perfect fairytale ending. Realistically, could he really deliver on all the promises he’s made to you in his mind? He’s tried this out before, and it didn’t end well. It could just end up as the same story, different chapter.

That’s the scariest part, to him–the realization that he’d rather love you and lose you than never have you at all.

The scariest part for you is just how willingly you would uproot your entire life for even a chance to be his. There’s no reality where it happens easily, your life is far from a Hallmark movie. Divorce would be messy, and it would halt not only your life but your husband’s, too. He has no reason to think you’re unhappy; on the surface, everything is great. He supports you, and you support him in return. He doesn’t recognize that you’re wasting away your wonder years in the home of someone who doesn’t excite you–and even worse, that you spend most of your days pining after someone he’s never even been properly introduced to.

Maybe that’s the hardest part of all this; that it’s not really your husband’s fault, but yours by way of negligence. If you had waited, maybe explored a little further before settling down, you might have found the man you really wanted to be with. You wouldn’t have led on a perfectly nice guy who’s just a little too vanilla in all aspects of life for your taste.

You know it’s considered emotional cheating, what you have with Javi. Your husband would be so hurt if he found out, and you know it. The last thing you want to do is hurt him, but Javi makes you feel so alive. He makes you feel so cared for, so valued, and who can blame you for wanting more of those feelings?

Every morning when you walk across the expanse of lawn that separates your property from Chucho’s, Javier’s waiting for you with a smile and a cup of coffee made exactly the way you like it. He protests half-heartedly that you don’t need to come take care of Chucho anymore now that he’s home, but you know he would worry his head off if you didn’t show up. Besides, your home is so lonely. When you go next door, you have constant company between Javier and Chucho. When you’re home, you have no one but yourself until your husband comes home–and even then, it’s hollow company. There’s not much conversation between two people who can feel something dissolving but are powerless to stop it.

Your husband starts to ask questions about the neighbors that he’s never bothered to bond with. He’s a lot of things, but stupid isn’t one of them. You used to go to Chucho’s once a week to help out, and your visits have only increased since his son moved back in. It looks suspicious even from an objective point of view; Chucho is old, but he’s far from decrepit. He doesn’t need as much help as you offer, certainly not with Javier around.

You never talk about it, but you know he wonders. And really, he has a right to. You’ve thought about taking that final, irreversible step a million times. You’ve thought about taking Javier’s handsome face between your hands and kissing him absolutely breathless more times than you can count.

But that’s all it’s been so far, thoughts, never actions. As much as you want to forget, you always remember that you’re married. Javi can’t seem to forget it either. You know he wants you–maybe even as badly as you want him–but he won’t do a thing about it. Not with that shiny ring on your finger.

It’s your five year anniversary, and your husband thinks it needs to be a big deal. You would think so too, if you weren’t so preoccupied with other thoughts. Regardless, you go through the motions. You go into town and buy a nice dress for the occasion, you send out hand-written invitations, you organize catering and decorations. It’s slated to be the backyard shindig of the year, but celebrating your marriage is like a punch to the gut right now–especially when Javi offers his help with the preparations.

Your feelings are a little unreasonably hurt by how eager he is to assist. Why is he so excited for you and your husband? Have you been reading all of his signals wrong?

You haven’t–his love language is acts of service, and he’s sure he can prove to you that he’s the better choice if he can demonstrate his worth. But it’s not like he can just come out and say that–he can’t be the deciding factor of whatever happens between you and your husband. It’s a choice you have to make on your own. So he grins and bears it–even as each wedding photo and reception memento you pull out of storage drives a chisel into his heart.

You’ve grown used to being able to read him so well. Now, as he helps you lug boxes down from the attic, you have no clue what’s swirling in those pretty brown eyes. It seems like distance, and maybe that’s for the best. Maybe celebrating your wedding anniversary is exactly what you need to get back on track–to finally put the man you can’t have out of your mind and focus on the man you do have.

“You did good,” Javi hums, beer in hand as he leans against the garage to admire the finishing touches of backyard decoration with you.

“You probably did more than I did,” you admit sheepishly.

“Nah, I’m just brawn. You’re the brains behind this operation,” he tells you with a quiet chuckle. “He’s gonna love it.”

You let out a little sigh and push away from the garage, wiping imagined dust from your palms. “Let’s hope.”

It’s quiet for a long moment, and Javi takes a few sips of his beer before working up the courage to ask what he wants to. “You still love him?”

“Of course I do,” you answer without thinking, because that’s what you’re supposed to say–even if it’s not entirely the truth.

You want to take it back the moment you see the crestfallen look on his face, but it’s too late. You shouldn’t want to take it back, even if you could. You’re supposed to love your husband forever, ‘til death do you part.

“Guess I’d better go clean up,” he murmurs. “I’ll see you tonight.”

He treks off across the lawn before you can stop him, broad shoulders practically bursting through the seams of his tight button-up, and all you want to do is throw yourself at that retreating back. You want to bury yourself in him and beg him to run away with you, to save you from this mess of your own making.

Instead, you go back inside and get yourself ready for what is shaping up to be the longest night of your life.

It’s busy, there’s really no other way to describe it. You’re being pulled in thirty different directions simultaneously–everyone wants to hug you or take photos, the caterer keeps pulling you into the kitchen for issues that they should be able to handle on their own. Your goal of a nice, relaxing party is completely out the window by the time the last of the guests arrive.

Big parties have never really been your thing, but your husband soaks up the attention. You hardly even see him the entire night–he’s always off chatting with a friend or a coworker.

All these smiling faces are like nails in your coffin. You get so many hugs and congratulations that it’s suffocating. There’s one face you really want to see, one face that could make your anxiety melt away like butter on a stovetop. He’s not here.

Chucho seems to sense your anxiety as he brings you into a warm hug–there’s something unreadable in those anciently wise eyes. “Javier sends his best.”

“He’s not coming?” Your stomach drops, and Chucho can tell.

“Think he’s come down with somethin’,” Chucho explains. Then, with a subdued smile that tells a deeper story than words ever could, he says, “Maybe you ought to go over and check on him. You might do more good than I could.”

Deep down, you know it would be so horribly irresponsible and rude of you to leave your party at this moment. You’re supposed to be hosting and having a good time, enjoying a night dedicated to you and your husband. If Javi doesn’t want to join in, he doesn’t have to. He has every right not to be here, it’s not like it’s his celebration.

You’re knocking on his front door before you’re even conscious of making the decision to do so.

His eyes are red-rimmed when he opens the door. For a moment, he looks at you like he’s seeing a ghost–the most beautiful spectre of a person he’s ever laid eyes on.

“You still love him.” This time, it’s not a question. Just a cold, hard statement.

“I’m supposed to,” you whisper. It’s an easier answer than the truth.

“You should go back,” he tells you, and you know. You know you have no right being here, no right to ask him to give you more of himself than he already has.

“I know.” The unspoken part of your answer is that you won’t, because there’s nothing worth celebrating back there. Those people are all at your house under false pretenses, and the only other person who knows it besides you is standing in the doorway of this modest ranch house with tear-stained cheeks that you can hardly bear looking at because you put those tears there. “I’m sorry, Javi.”

“I am too.” You don’t know what he’s apologizing for until your brain catches up to your nervous system and you realize he’s kissing you. Not sweetly, either–it’s harsh, as if he’s chastising both of you for what’s happening even as he’s powerless to resist it. His tongue sweeps into your mouth and your arms snake around his neck without thinking, because the thought of pulling away now that you’re here hurts more than anything else ever could. There’s no going back now and you both know it.

He pulls you inside and presses you against the door, every delicious inch of his body pressed up against yours as he kisses you deeper and deeper.

“You need to stop me,” he murmurs into your mouth, even as his hands trace down your waist and tug you closer against him.

“I don’t want to.”

Javi knows he should be the bigger man and put a stop to this before it can go any further. He can’t ask you to uproot everything for him. He doesn’t have anything better to offer you than your husband does–realistically, he knows he’s the lesser of two options. He just can’t bring himself to do it when his lips are trailing down your neck and your hands are unbuttoning his shirt.

“This’ll change everything,” he mumbles as your hands find his belt buckle. It’s a last, fleeting attempt to save you both from something that only ends in disaster.

“Good.”

Really, when you put it like that, he’s doing you a favor by pulling you down the hall to his bedroom.

“I don’t wanna go back,” you confess as he pulls your dress over your head. “It’s all bullshit.”

“I know, baby. I know. But you have to.”

“We can’t just ride off into the sunset?” You ask, a tinge of humor in your voice because you both know that it isn’t that simple. Maybe in the movies, but definitely not in real life.

“I wish we could,” he admits with a smile as his warm lips trail lingering little kisses down your stomach. “I’d give anything to make that happen.”

Really, you know there’s nothing more for him to give. He’s risking his own security by doing this, too. He’s dooming himself to backwards glances at the supermarket and whispers behind closed doors–the typical curse of a small town. Whatever heat you get for this, he might get it just as bad. Still, he doesn’t seem to care. Still, he’d ruin his own life for a chance to be yours.

If you were merciful, you’d bail him out now before he has to take any of the heat from this disaster. In the end maybe your biggest flaw is how unable you are to stop yourself from being selfish, now that you finally have a glimpse of the sunshine you’ve been hoping for throughout the winter that your marriage has become.

He’s achingly gentle as he pries your thighs apart and makes quick work of sealing his lips around your clit. He looks up into your eyes as he unwinds you, like he’s never seen anything more magnificent. The thought excites you more than it should.

“You taste even better than I imagined,” he all but whines into your cunt. It’s impossible not to let that go to your head–the fact that he’s imagined working you open on his tongue like this before.

In the end, you need the reassurance that it hasn’t just been you this whole time–that he’s always wanted you as much as you’ve wanted him. “You imagined this?”

“All the time, baby.”

That does you in all on its own. You shatter like a vase dropped on a hardwood floor, pleasure coursing through every vein as you struggle to escape his ministrations yet simultaneously desperate to press yourself closer to him. His grip is strong as he works you through it, keeping your hips firmly in place against his mattress as he laps at you like he’ll never be able to get enough.

“Jesus…” he murmurs once you’ve come down enough to stop moaning his name. He scatters little kisses over the insides of your thighs, desperate to stay close even as you shiver with the remnants of your orgasm. “I gotta be inside you, baby.”

“Come here then.”

You’re still a little breathless as his lips find yours, but he breathes life back into your lungs quickly enough. He’s shoving his jeans down and grinding his hard cock against your soaking cunt in a matter of moments, and it’s intimidating. Not because of his size—although he’s quite a bit bigger than you're used to—but because of how right this feels. What if this is the first and last time this ever happens? What if nothing ever feels this right again?

He quells your fears one kiss at a time, tongue sliding across your bottom lip as his hand comes up to hold your jaw.

“We can stop here, baby,” he tells you so sweetly, even though you can see in his beautiful eyes that stopping is the last thing he wants. He would do it for you though, even if it hurts, and that only makes you want him more.

“Please don’t stop, Javi.”

He’s lining himself up before you’ve finished saying his name, eyes dark and searching. “Nice and slow, querida.”

“Okay,” you breathe.

The first push of him is ecstasy. Like stars lighting up the night sky or waves crashing against time-worn cliffs, it’s right. It feels good, his hands holding your thighs open while he presses deeper inside you, but what makes it feel great is that it’s Javi. It’s the man you would give everything up for, finally filling you the way you’ve dreamed since the day you met him.

“Ohhhh, Christ…” he murmurs as his eyes flutter shut, finally filling you to the hilt. It’s almost hard to hear over the deafening pace his thumb works against your clit. “This is gonna be so embarrassing.”

“W… what do you mean?”

“I’m not gonna last long like this,” he murmurs into the crook of your neck. “Feel too damn good.”

You’ve got to be hearing things, because surely there’s no way he’s as unraveled as you are? Surely you don’t have that much of an effect on him?

You brush your fingers through his dark hair, soothing him even as you’re desperate for him to move. “It’s okay. You’re perfect.”

“I’m far from it,” he admits, but he pulls back and starts slowly rolling his hips against yours anyway.

“You’re perfect for me, then,” you whisper. His hips jolt a little at that, and you’re stunned once again by how much simply your words affect him—by being wanted as much as you want him.

“God, I don’t fuckin’ deserve you.” He thrusts deep, as if to distract you from his passive self-degradation, and it draws an involuntary whine from your throat.

“You deserve everything, Javi.” You hope he’ll keep you around long enough for you to drill that lesson into his head.

He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t need to. Words would never properly convey what he feels, anyway. He dedicates himself to showing you instead.

It’s like time stands still just so he can wreck you more effectively. Every moment of his hands hitching your legs higher around his waist, every moment of his cock splitting you open, every moment of his breathy kisses; it all seems drawn out. And yet it’s not enough— you don’t think it’ll ever be enough. You’ve wasted too much time not being his.

“You’re everything I’ve ever wanted,” he mumbles into your mouth with a particularly deep shove of his hips. “I never thought I’d get to have you.”

“I never thought you would want me,” you admit earnestly. Your voice is so much higher than you remember it being—everything is so tightly wound you feel like you might combust into flames.

“How could I not?” He kisses you again—slow and languid, even as his hips pick up the pace and his thumb speeds up on your clit to match. “I can’t let you go now. You know that, right?”

“I don’t want you to,” is all you can manage before all coherent thought is wiped from your mind by a blinding wave of pleasure.

Time doesn’t exist for a little while. Nothing does, really, outside the bubble of this queen-sized mattress. All you know is the waves coursing through your nerves and Javi’s little grunts filling the room as he fills you, with short and deep strokes that leave you dripping the creamy reminder of what you’ve done. You’re sweaty and sticky as he unwinds himself from you so he can flop down beside you, and nothing’s ever felt better.

By the time you manage to pry your eyes open again, Javi’s coming back from the bathroom down the hall with a wet washcloth.

He winces at the overstimulated groan you let out when he starts wiping you clean. “I know baby, m’sorry.”

He tosses it into the laundry hamper at the foot of the bed when he’s done, then sits on the edge of the bed next to you to light a cigarette.

For a moment, it’s quiet. You watch with quiet fascination at the little swirls of smoke that drift from his lips, and you think you could get used to this.

“I meant it, Javi,” you hum quietly. You prop up on your knees behind him, arms snaking around his waist as he leans back against you. “I don’t wanna go back to the way things were. I don’t want you to let me go.”

“I won’t, then.” He lets out a contented hum, then leans forward to drop the butt into the ashtray on his nightstand. Your arms are open when he leans back into you, and this time he turns so he can kiss you. It’s light and lingering, a contrast to the desperate kisses from earlier—it feels like a promise.

“It won’t be easy,” you warn him. You know he knows, but you have to give him an out. You have to make sure he sees the storm that’s coming.

“It doesn’t have to be.” A smirk flashes across his lips as he leans his forehead against yours. “You did your time, baby. You tried. It’ll be alright.”

And here, in the safety of his arms, in the safety of his bed, you believe him.

You’ll go back to your own home in a few short minutes, when you can bear to release Javi from your arms. You’ll finish out the party for your guests, and then you’ll talk to your husband. And then, once everything is finished imploding, you’ll run to the porchlight that calls your name from next door and the open arms that can soothe any ache.

➔ this is third submission to @beskarandblasters Taylor Swift Drabble Challenge thank you for the prompt love :)

➔ beta: @shakespeareanwannabe and @schnarfer ; dividers: @saradika-graphics thank you darlings <3

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