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#a little box is marked on it that says he can write what he wants
Note
I feel like, Young!Pathetic!Konig would do REALLY well with a Older!Lady-Cougar!Reader, She's maybe been divorced twice and looking ta maybe become widowed this time? May-haps her current hubby has wealth and power but is a few screws short of being a good man towards our poor reader, and there's that Pesky prenup that makes it so she won't get ANYTHING in a divorce...buuuttt if the bastard has a bit of an....*Oopsie doodle*.... Maybe she's looking for someone to take care of her problem, and maybe she likes this young soldier boy, whose all too happy to help with *whatever needs* she might have? Likes how desperate he is for just her hand on his arm, likes how he's on his need begging for just a *taste* Likes that she can teach him how to please a woman, how to make her moan like no lover before....Likes how willing he is to kill the man she's married too...
Asfdf my brain short circuited ❤️ I know I said somewhere that I don’t write cheating but if it’s cheating a bad man with an even worse man König….
CW: 18+ MDNI. Age difference, F!dom/M!sub undertones, praise kink, cheating (your husband is an old dick), mating press & other shenanigans, murder & mentions of blood, König is a lovesick yandere in the making.
It was just one night.
Just one night to satiate your needs because your husband for sure never takes care of them.
But then the young pup you picked off from the pub pops into your workplace next week... With a large bouquet of flowers in his hand and a box of chocolate in the other, your desperate little “detour” looks like a boy who just got laid for the first time in his life.
“König…” you sigh and pull him to an empty breakroom before all your colleagues see you’ve cheated on your beloved husband with a man at least ten years younger than you.
“You can’t be here,” you start, trying to ignore the happy, greedy stares this little—big—soldier gives you.
He’s all the equal to his alias, looking like a king in the making with those wide shoulders and that fierce stare. But his hands are shaking, he guides those eyes to the floor as he puts the gifts on the table littered with crumbs and coffee stains, switches his weight from one foot to the other once you start to tell him how it is.
He listens dutifully as you try to explain how it was only one night, that he was incredibly lovely and you had so much fun but that you can’t see each other anymore. It was wrong of you to do so in the first place, you’re married, and you’re so, so sorry... You were just so sad and lonely.
You tell him he’s a good man. That he’ll find someone special, some lovely girl to call his own. He will find someone who can give him what he wants, someone who will cover him with kisses for bringing her flowers and sweets.
You try to explain it to him even as you get slowly chased into a corner, you try to tell him what a catch he is even when you get pinned to the wall by a hard, lean chest.
You try to tell him that he’s the perfect man for some other girl even when he pulls your strings aside and bullies his cock inside you.
One minute is all it takes as he huffs and groans and fucks you against the wall, your moans and his grunts barely muffled by shirts and fists and lips and skin. There’s lipstick on his clean, white shirt after he’s done with you, teeth marks where his shoulder meets his neck, a spittle of cum on your skirt as he pulls it down with shaky hands.
“Sorry,” he murmurs in your ear. “I just had to see you. I missed you so much...”
Your cunt is what he missed, any woman could see that. Got a taste of it last weekend and wouldn’t let you leave his place at all; a small, miserable flat of 25 square meters, with burned rice on the stove and a thin, cum-stained mattress on the floor. He fucked you on that mattress, four times because on the fifth attempt to part your shaking thighs, you told this horny lad you need to go home.
“I know, big boy. I missed you too. But you need to go now,” you say to your pretty lover. Ugly but pretty, in his own way, his utter lack of cruelty is what makes him beautiful in your eyes.
“I don’t want to,” he dares to argue back and claims your mouth, kisses you like you’ve never been kissed before.
“You have to,” you moan. “König–”
“I love you.”
You’re huffing, panting into each other’s throats as you realize he’s even younger than you thought. Fell in love with your cunt so easily, this big runt, thinks it’s meant to be just because you’re wet and he’s hard.
“Don’t be silly,” you huff and look at the drowsy smile, the messy state of this lovesick man before you fight your way out of his lap.
You want to cry, wail, scream from the injustice. Where was this silly young golden retriever six months ago? Why didn’t you meet him when you were single and sweet? Now you’re trapped in an unhappy marriage with some old fool who was cunning enough to trick you into a ludicrous deal with him. The prenupt you discovered only later, after he swore that you wouldn’t have to work a day in your life and that everything that belonged to him would be yours one day. In reality, you’ve had to beg for every crumb, act the part of a trophy wife who also has to work herself to death. And he won’t even fuck you, only wants you to massage his back and his cock while you’re left all alone without love, without a single kind word.
But König never lets you go: not in a way you beg him to, no, he always shows up at your door. Sneaks into your lonely room from the window, licks you to ruin while you laugh and tell him no, fucks you three times a night, crawls under the bed when a cleaning lady almost catches you two. He shows up at cafes, restaurants, conferences, parties, everywhere where you go but your husband won’t.
He’s so reckless that you have to teach him to be more patient, more gentle. You guide his fingers and his head, even his cock, while locking your eyes with his so that he knows when he’s doing it right. You praise him for a good, unhurried fuck, cup his face and kiss him when he gives it to you nice and slow. Anyone can see he'd want to ram it in until there’s nothing left of him and you, but you kiss and kiss and kiss him until the poor boy moans and cums without permission, just from that tiny taste of intimacy and love.
He gets pets, smooches and caresses, blowjobs that leave him shaking and breathless on the bed. He looks like he has no brains left after you’re done with him, looks a little helpless when you climb on top of him and help yourself with his cock after he only just came.
He’s always up in no time, especially if you tell him he did well. Stares at you and your breasts like you’re a vision from heaven, drools on them once when you won’t let him have a lick. Mopes when you laugh at his predicament, and won’t stop brooding even when you give him a kiss on the tip of his nose.
But he’s never mad at you for long, not if you call him sweetie or your silly apple crumb, not if you let him fall asleep in your bed, partly on top of you. There’s always a wet spot on your back if he’s the big spoon, he begs you to sleep naked as he does, says it’s better for your health and then teases you with his fingers come morning, probably thinking he’s so very clever. Takes you to the theater and offers you expensive port wine and cake, tells you how to steal a car, how to shoot any gun. Gives you a hungry kiss in public when you tell him he has to act like he’s your cousin from abroad, vanishes for weeks to his training, sends letters instead of texts, and tells you he’s going to be a big boss someday.
It’s hard to imagine this serious but silly mess as an intimidating officer, not even when you know he has the size and looks for it. He’s too innocent and needy, doesn't know how the real world works yet. Thinks he’s immortal just because he’s young...
There’s a certain darkness in him, and you mistake it for the remnants of some turbulence of his teenage years, just some wrath of a boy who never got what he wanted. Who wouldn’t be a little pissed and impatient in their twenties? He probably doesn’t even know what he wants: hell, you don’t know what you want.
“Like this...?” He asks demurely when he lifts your knees to your ears and sinks his cock into you inch by inch, carefully as if it’s the first time you’re making love.
“Just like that,” you whisper as he spreads you so wide you can’t even breathe, fills you up deliciously, like no one else before. His eyes never leave you, not even when he uses your hole as a place to bury himself and all his bad memories, not even when he makes you squirt like you’re nothing but an oasis in a desert that never ends.
But you know he comes to you for other things than just that.
He comes to you for kind words, breathy praise, soft touches and ruffles of his hair. He comes to you for practice and to get his sense of self in order. He’s your pretty knight in shining armor when others have called him ugly, he’s your strong bull when others have ridiculed his disproportionate limbs. He’s your safe haven, your sunshine, your crazy, silly man, your soldier and your savior, and he soaks up your love and attention like a sponge: every drop gets gulped down like he’s a man dying of thirst. He doesn’t take sips, he doesn’t know how to, and you on the other hand don’t know how to quench the raging drought inside him, long after yours has been satiated.
You sleep like Romeo and Juliet just before their death, and fuck like rabbits in the spring. He takes you in the car, in the closet, in the toilet, in other people’s beds, even at the alley one night.
“I love you,” he always says after he has spilled his cum – it’s like a ritual or a prayer, and you always reach for the baby hairs of his neck in return, and give them the gentlest caress.
“I love you too,” you whisper one night – it just slips when you stroke his cheek. It never comes as a surprise that he gives you the most miserable pair of puppy eyes you’ve ever seen.
He knows about your situation, knows enough that you’re trapped and unhappy. But you never knew he saw you as a victim. If anything, you feel like he’s the victim here. Poor boy, saving what little he has for a future with some woman who knows nothing about true love... You’re not the one for him, you’re not even a silly little sex kitten any young soldier would want to play with. You’re just some bored, abandoned wife who wants to feel something, mean something to someone. But you love him enough to know that you’ll let him go when he wants to move on. As bitter as it makes you feel, you know you’ll give him to someone younger and more beautiful, someone who will love as passionately as he does. Anything to make him truly happy.
But the next evening, König doesn’t climb in through your window. He uses the door, the inside door, and you jump from the bed and hurry to him in your nightgown, the only gift your husband ever gave you.
“I killed him for you,” he says, your soldier boy from Austria, your good, good boy with a good, big cock.
You only now see that his hands are stained in blood, and nothing shakes anymore: your wannabe sniper is as calm as ever when he confesses he’s murdered someone.
“...What?”
He comes to you and cups your face, the blood on his hands both wet and cold. You’ve never seen him so peaceful, not even after he’s had a good fuck. The boy who no one ever loved has turned into a man, but what kind of man… You shiver in his clutch, unsure if you’re about to suffer a heart attack from fear or love.
“He didn’t suffer... Much,” he says, his cracked lips only a breath away from yours. “Knives can be messy…”
You gulp while staring into the deep, dark abyss of his eyes, the innocent baby blue nearly swallowed by the darkest of all loves.
This is not how you thought things would go… You were supposed to give the old man the finger and divorce during the summer. Put your finances in order so that you can escape. Maybe fuck König on the side and see if he’s still the man of your dreams once you’re happily divorced.
Now he’s telling you you’ll marry as soon as possible, or that if you want a summer wedding, he can wait a few months… He tells you you have nothing to worry about, he won’t go to jail, not this time. He’ll take care of you now; he just got promoted. You don’t ever have to be sad again.
“Don’t worry, my love,” he says when all words have finally escaped you. “Now we can be together. Forever…”
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m0nsterqzzz · 2 months
Text
Cat's Out of the Bag La Rue
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pairing: Clarisse La Rue x reader
summary: Valentines Day rolls around, and what kind of girlfriend would Clarisse be if she didnt get you the only present you've been wanting?
a/n: i wrote like 5 fucking valentines day fics yesterday (one with natasha, one with wanda, one with clarisse, one with carol danvers, and one with katniss everdeen) yet this is the only one im posting and i kinda hate it. literally the shortest oneshot i've ever written. also, I'm literally a dog person writing about cats. what has life come to?
is this the worst thing i've ever written? yes. do i hate every other piece of written recently cuz im in writers block and haven't updated in like 3 weeks? also yes. im so done yall.
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With a baseball cap covering her head, tucking her curls against her head and being the best disguise she could come up with, Clarisse’s eyes dart all around the cab. It zooms through the streets of New York, making the child of Are’s slightly concerned for her and her siblings safety as they get honked out. The man driving seems like he’s barely paying attention to the road, but in the end it doesn’t really matter as long as they get to their destination. 
There are three children in the yellow car; Clarisse, her half brother Mark, and her half sister Ruby. They were the only ones who she could convince to come with her to town, past the safe bounds of camp half blood where nothing but their weapons can stop monsters from hunting and hurting them.
It’d be a lie to say Clarisse isn’t nervous, but she pushes the feeling down as she grips her spear tighter in her left hand. 
This is for you. She’s going into town and risking getting in trouble for the end result of seeing her favorite smile. Your smile. Her partner of one year. It may not seem like a very long time to some people, but you guys are demigods. It’s surprising you made it through the year without being killed by some horrible, ugly monster.
The car stops and the guy counts the large amount of money Mark hands him before telling them to get out of his cab. It may have annoyed the teenagers on any other day, but it doesn’t bother them too much since today is a special day.
“Why are we here?” Ruby asks, eyes scanning the area around them as if sure something is going to jump out at them. In the blonde haired girl's defense, it’s very possible something will.
Clarisse gestures to the small building in front of them. It’s run down and in desperate need of a paint job, but it doesn’t matter. That’s not what grabs the child of Ares attention. It’s the small animals chilling in their little spots inside the store. That’s what she’s here for.
The sign above the small colorful store reads, “Mike’s Animals”. Boring name, but gets the point across. She can already see the little animal she came here for when they walk through the door, the loud bell ringing from the action of opening it but no employee comes to help them. Clarisse lets her siblings stare in awe at the other animals for a few months before shoving towards a section near the back. The kitten section. You had been showing her a website on your phone a few days ago, one with a different selection of the small animals. The website was for Mike’s Animals, but you explained that even though you’d really like a cat, pets aren’t allowed in Camp Half Blood. It’s a rule.
Well you wanna know what Clarisse says about that? Screw rules. What her person want’s, her person gets.
So if the police ever come around, asking you why Clarisse shoved a black and white kitten into her brother's coat pocket and then made a run for it while the store manager chased after them, that’s what you have to say.
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
You're laying on your bed reading a book when your girlfriend walks in, a large box covered by a piece of fabric under one arm and a bouquet of flowers in her free hand. She ignores your siblings' gazes as she walks towards your space, setting down the box with a type of gentleness nobody in camp but you gets to see and then holding out the flowers.
They’re your favorite, clearly straight out of the flower fields by the slight glow they give off. They’re wrapped in a brown type of paper with a pink bow clearly down by one of the Aphrodite kids to hold it all together.
“Hey my love.” She starts. “These are for you.” You take the plants with a large grin on your face, bringing them closer to your face to smell the amazing natural scent coming from them. Something moves inside the box she sat on your bed, making you hold in a scream as you jump closer to your girlfriend and farther away from it. “What the hell is moving in that Clarisse?!” You ask, your siblings' attention all over you guys now.
Clarisse just laughs, but she seems slightly nervous as she puts the crate in your lap. “Just look. I hope you like it.” She continues to nervously ramble as you remove the cloth from the top of the box, letting out a small gasp when you see the small animal looking back at you with wide, curious blue eyes.
Your girlfriend stares as you gently pick him up, him instantly curling into your hold with a soft pur as you hold him close to your chest. “You um…you like him?” She asks with a small smile.
“Of course I do! He’s adorable, Risse!” She lets out a relieved sigh, laying down next to you as your siblings surround the bed trying to get a look at the animal. “You know Chiron will never let you keep that right?” One of your brothers asks with a laugh, and you frown as you look at your girlfriend.
She thinks about it for a moment before she says, “We’ll just hide him. He can lounge around the cabin while you’re gone, and you guys can hide him somewhere during cabin checks. Chiron will never know.”
Your siblings eventually leave you alone, going back to their acticicus as your two favorite beings cuddle up to you. Clarisse cuddles up next to your side, and the kitten on your stomach. “I really like you Oreo.” you whisper to the animal, making your girlfriend laugh. “Oreo? That’s the most original thing you could think of right?”
“Okay if you're so great at naming things, what should we name him?”
She goes quiet for a few seconds before mumbling in defeat, “I like Oreo.”
You guys enjoy the silence that surrounds just you guys as you pet Oreo, but then a small laugh comes from you when Clarisse gently grabs the cat and pulls him off your chest so she can lay her head there. “He’s been here for half an hour and you're already jealous?” “He was getting way too touchy. Mine.” She teases and then fakes an annoyed groan when he crawls onto her back and lays down, stretching himself out just to prove a point.
“Will you be my Valentine, my love?” She asks as she places her chin on your chest to look up at you. There's a certain softness in her eyes that you and only you get to see. In fact, it’s very, very rare you ever see the side everyone else talks about when they talk about Clarisse towards you. “You guys just don’t know her like I do.” You tell them. Not like they believe you, half of the camp still believing you somehow put a spell on her.
“Only if you’ll be mine.” You whisper back as if it’s a secret.
“Oh…this is awkward. I already agreed to be like ten other girls date.” Her voice is teasing as she tries and fails not to giggle.
“Is that so?” 
“Mhm.” 
“Hm.” You fake being offended as you cross your arms over your chest and look away. She laughs, and the sound practically forces a smile on your face.
“I’m kidding. Only you, angel. I’m yours. Always.” 
“And I’m yours, Clarisse La Rue.” 
“Always?” 
“And forever.”
There’s a knock on your cabin door, and you figure it’s another camper until a voice calls from the other side of the door, “Clarisse? I know you're in there. Your siblings told me where you went. Cat’s out of the bag La Rue.” Chiron says. Very terrible choice of words. She groans into your stomach, rolling off of you and successfully getting Oreo to jump off her back and onto the bed.
“Those little snitches.” She snarls as she gets up to open the door, making you instantly miss her warmth.
You place the cat under your sweater, giggling and then shoving his face back under when he crawls to put his head through the neck hole. Once she knows he’s covered, Clarisse opens the door. Chirons eyes fall to you, and it’s only then do you think about the fact that there is a giant Oreo shaped lump in your sweater.
All your siblings fall silent as they watch to see what’s gonna happen.
“Mac and cheese day am I right?” You try to joke with a nervous chuckle, but he doesn’t laugh. He just runs a hand over his face and then stares at you. “You know what? I don’t care. You find a way to feed him that isn’t taking resources from us, you make sure he doesn’t do any damage to the furniture, and you keep track of him at all times, you can keep him.”
You grin at him, letting the small animal out of your sweater who in turn lowly hisses at the sight of Chiron.
He groans, walking off as he mumbles something about needing a very long vacation. There's only so much of your girlfriend bending the rules to get you presents he can handle before he was bound to just accept it.
The cinatar leaves, your girlfriend flipping him off when he can’t see. He yells over his shoulder, “I know what you’re doing Clarisse! Stop it or no dessert!” 
She stops flipping him off. Next to you, chocolate cake is what she lives for.
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
That night, as you sit with Clarisse at the bonfire, she listens to you complain about how much you miss Oreo. Usually, you’d be too busy roasting marshmallows and cuddling with her to think about anything else, but your girlfriend doesn’t do anything other than smile, happy she made you so happy.
“So how’d you get him anyway? You don’t have that kind of money and there’s no way Chiron gave it to you.” You say, and she freezes in her spot on a log, slightly tightening her arms that are wrapped around your waist as she avoids your eyes.
“I stole him.” Her voice is slightly quieter than usual, and she says this in the most casual tone she can muster.
“CLARISSE LA RUE!”
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drvscarlett · 13 days
Text
The Tortured Drivers' Department
— combining another one of my favorites. I'll be taking notes and writing fics about which TTPD song do I associate with the drivers ( + I will be including the retired ones). This is the main list and I'll be linking them when I finished writing them. Let me know if you wanna be tagged
Also give TTPD a listen. Its so beautiful and a masterpiece
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Fortnight
— i love you, its ruining my life (Lewis Hamilton x Mercedes!reader)
The Tortured Poets Department 
— At dinner you take my ring off my middle finger and put it on the one people put wedding rings on. And that's the closest I've come to my heart exploding (Pierre Gasly x ex!reader)
My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys 
— 'Cause he took me out of my box, stole my tortured heart left all these broken parts (Lando Norris x reader)
Down Bad
— Fuck it if I can't have him (Charles Leclerc x kpop idol!reader)
So Long, London
— You swore that you loved me, but where were the clues? (George Russell x secret girlfriend! reader)
But Daddy I Love Him
— "I'm having his baby" No, I'm not, but you should see your faces (Alex Albon x Horner!reader)
Fresh Out the Slammer
— Now, pretty baby, I'm runnin' back home to you (Esteban Ocon x childhood bestfriend!reader)
Florida!!! (feat. Florence + the Machine) 
—I need to forget, so take me to Florida (Logan Sargeant x heiress!reader)
Guilty as Sin?
—What if he's written "mine" on my upper thigh only in my mind? (Oscar Piastri x bestfriend!reader)
Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me?
— I was tame, I was gentle till the circus life made me mean (Nico Rosberg x Lewis Hamilton)
I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)
— they shake their heads, saying, "God help her" when I tell 'em he's my man (Daniel Ricciardo x longtime girlfriend!reader)
loml
— Oh, what a valiant roar. What a bland goodbye. The coward claimed he was a lion (Max Verstappen x childhood sweetheart!reader)
I Can Do It With a Broken Heart 
— Lights, camera, bitch, smile (Zhou Guanyu x model!reader)
The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived
— And I'll forget you, but I'll never forgive (Yuki Tsunoda x Actress!reader)
The Alchemy
—'Cause the sign on your heart said it's still reserved for me (Kimi Räikkönen x assistant!reader)
Clara Bow
— This town is fake, but you're the real thing (Sebastian Vettel x Ferrari heir!reader)
The Black Dog
— I am someone who, until recent events you shared your secrets with (Mick Schumacher x driver!reader
imgonnagetyouback
— I'm an Aston Martin that you steered straight into the ditch (Fernando Alonso x wife!reader)
The Albatross
— She's the albatross, she is here to destroy you (Jenson Button x revenger!reader)
Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus
—So if I sell my apartment and you have some kids with an internet starlet. Will that make your memory fade from this scarlet maroon? (Carlos Sainz x Vasseur!reader)
How Did It End?
— The deflation of our dreaming leaving me bereft and reeling (Logan Sargeant x Oscar Piastri)
So High School
—You knew what you wanted, and, boy, you got her (Charles Leclerc x reader ft Max Verstappen x childhood friend!reader)
I Hate It Here
—I hate it here so I will go to secret gardens in my mind (Kimi Räikkönen x interviewer! reader)
thanK you aIMee
— And then she wrote headlines in the local paper laughing at each baby step I'd take (Mark Webber x reader)
I Look in People’s Windows
—What if your eyes looked up and met mine one more time (Sebastian Vettel x reader)
The Prophecy
—Don't want money, just someone who wants my company (Pierre Gasly x politician's daughter!reader)
Cassandra
—So they killed Cassandra first cause she feared the worst (Lewis Hamilton x wife!reader)
Peter
— Forgive me, Peter, please know that I tried to hold onto the days when you were mine (Lando Norris x reader)
The Bolter
— "Oh, we must stop meeting like this" (Max Verstappen x hollywood starlet!reader)
Robin
— You have no room in your dreams for regrets (Oscar Piastri x girlfriend!reader)
The Manuscript
—One last souvenir from my trip to your shores. Now and then I re-read the manuscript. But the story isn't mine anymore (Carlos Sainz x McLaren employee!reader)
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moralesmilesanhour · 11 months
Note
My second time writing a request foe someone rlly nervous lol
Can you do a
reader x earth 42 miles
Where reader wants to buy things for themselves but miles keeps buying stuff for them like anything we look at or love next thing Yk he’s buying it?
I rlly hope you can understand this bc im not sure if it made sense 💀
-sincerely sorry miller
Oh don't be nervous I understand perfectly fine!! (Under the cut as usual)
"See you, Carol!" You wiped the sweat forming around your hairline as you untied your apron with haste. You had taken extra shifts at the diner this week for extra spending money, and it had you counting down the days until Friday.
Slinging your bag over your shoulder, the bell jingled as you pushed open the glass door with a grunt.
Right next door to the run-down diner was a small clothing shop, one of the few that managed to stay open. You had made it a habit to check the window for the mannequin that had your jeans on: A flaired, denim number that was optimal for weekend block parties.
"Come Friday, you're mine, baby." You say to yourself with a hand on the plexiglass display.
"I thought I was already yours," a familiar voice nearly made you jump out of your skin.
Miles' footsteps could almost never be heard, you swore he was a ninja in his spare time.
"Don't fuckin scare me like that!" You whined, smacking his shoulder as an amused grin spread across his lips.
He ignored your outburst and pointed towards the mannequin. "You want that?"
You gave him a warning look. "I'm gonna go shopping this weekend. When I get paid."
"You didn't answer the question."
"No comment," you said, spinning on your heel to walk away with Miles' gentle laughter following behind you.
When you don't stop, he jogs after you and traps you in a bear hug.
"Fuck off, Miles!" You laughed, fake struggling to escape.
"Alright, tell me what I did."
"Nothing!"
He let you go and opted to walk next to you, his long legs making it easy to keep up with you.
"Okay look, whatever you're mad at me for, I got a surprise waiting for you," Miles poked his head in front of you as you both walked, twin braids dangling over his shoulder. "Come over?"
You sighed, "Fine."
He gently took your hand and started tugging you along, presumably in the direction of his mom's apartment. "Thank you."
-
Miles' brow furrowed as he fumbled with his keys a bit before quietly unlocking the door. He turned to you and placed his index finger over his lips, and you nodded in understanding.
The familiar smell of yellow rice and scented candles engulfed the both of you when you entered the empty apartment. Rio was at work, and Uncle Aaron was likely napping in the living room, as it was only the late afternoon.
"So, where's the surprise?" You whispered.
"My room. Been up there for about a week."
You rushed up the stairs as quietly as your feet could carry you to catch up to your boyfriend, who was already halfway there and glancing down at you with an impish grin. You roll your eyes playfully. Typical.
"Lemme take that," Miles stuck his hand out for your work bag as he removed his sneakers.
Deeply inhaling the cool air of his room, you let him take it off your shoulders. You were sure that thing was starting to leave a mark from carrying it on the same side every day.
Miles sat on his bed for a moment to rummage through his black knapsack, and produced a small, pink plastic bag no bigger than the hand that held it. This confirmed one of your suspicions, and you gave him a tired smile as he stood to place it gently in your palm. He was a funny sight, hands clasped together in anticipation like a parent at Christmas.
Inside the bag was a little white box, which held a small necklace cushioned in the middle. You recognized the teardrop pendant from the mall. You had practically dragged Miles along, looking bored and scrolling through his phone the entire time. Or so you thought.
Now, he looked about ready to run a marathon from here to Manhattan as you removed the delicate necklace, the silver chain catching the little light that Miles allowed into his room in shiny strips.
"Thank you baby, I love it," you bit your bottom lip, "It's just that-"
"I could put it on you?"
You sighed, and held out the necklace. "Of course."
He damn near snatched the piece of jewelry from you to unclasp it, rushing to get behind you.
"Miles, if you break it-"
"I won't, relax!"
The cool metal settled on your skin as he gently draped it around your neck, and fastened the clasp.
"How does it look?"
Miles moved your braids back and planted a kiss on your cheek. "Pretty."
"I know you know more words than that, sir," you teased, "try again."
"Alright, breathtaking. Stunning. Effervescent."
"Now you're trying too hard."
"I'm about to take this necklace back," he muttered, earning a short outburst of laughter from you.
When the laughter subsided, you turned to face him. He let your braids slide across his hands before they fell back at your shoulders.
"Miles, I need you to do something for me."
Worry settled over the boy's soft features. "Such as...?"
"Don't buy me them jeans," you said, arms crossed but still smiling.
His brows shot up. "Why, you don't like 'em anymore?"
"I do," you draped your arms around his neck, "which is why I've been saving up to get them myself."
You watched Miles' eyes dart back and forth in thought before settling back on you. He was silent, imploring you to explain further.
"If I wanted everything gifted to me, I wouldn't have gotten a job."
Miles nods, and something seems to slot into place for him.
"So no more surprise gifts?" He says, pouting exaggeratedly.
"For at least another two weeks."
Miles winced, taking a nervous glance at his knapsack, "Damn."
Following his line of sight, you noticed the white plastic bag poking out from it.
Your jaw drops, and you give him another good smack on the shoulder.
"You bought it, didn't you?"
He smiles tightly. "Hypo...thetically?"
"Miles!"
-
A/N: idk why the hell that took me so long to write but it was fun! Happy reading!
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norrisleclercf1 · 2 months
Note
If we're talking dad thots what about Jenson or any of the older drivers when told their wife is expecting?
A/N: I'm writing this for Jenson and Mark because I can and I think it'd be cute
Jenson and Presenter!Wife:
You couldn't wait to tell Jenson; you were so excited, and nothing could make this moment more perfect than announcing it to everyone but also Jenson. You had it all planned and you had the help of Will and Laura.
Hell, a lot of the people that worked here still remembers the first time you and Jenson went out on a date 14 years ago, and now here you were about to announce your pregnancy. "You ready?" Laura asks, fixing your hair and you nod as it wasn't every day that SkySports and F1TV got to do a joint broadcast and you were so excited.
"Well, my two favorite ladies, and Will, you ready?" You giggle as Will rolls his eyes at your husband and you nod. "Yes, we're ready." You stand and grab the little box and hide it as Jenson bends down kissing you as you two walk to your spots.
Everything goes well and you notice the cameraman give you a signal and you nod and step forward. "And honestly, this has been an amazing opportunity for me. And as everyone know, Jenson and I have been together for about 14 years and we've always been the Button Duo, but sadly in about 10 months I'll be having to take a break," You pull open the box and show off the onesie that says baby Button on the back.
Everyone laughs as Jenson drops his mic and walks over turning you to face him. "Are you serious?" You giggle and jump up and down so excited that you finally told him. "Yes! We're going to be parents." Jenson can't help himself as he breaks down into tears, gathering you in his arms as everyone pops little confetti poppers. "I love you so much," Jenson whispers and kissing your cheeks.
Mark and Roo
"Oscar you didn't have to help me," You remind the young Aussie but he shrugs his shoulders, he liked spending time on the ranch. It was quiet and you and Mark let him train but still enjoy the fun of being in Australia. "Nah, I like helping you anyway Y/n, besides you shouldn't work yourself to hard." Oscar holds up the kangaroo with a little joey in the pouch.
"Are you making a joke about my nickname be Roo and me being pregnant?" You ask and Oscar chuckles and finishes fixing the box that you're using to tell Mark you're pregnant. "Yes, and it's funny. He'll get a kick out of it," Oscar comes around the table and kisses your cheek. "Lily and I will be down swimming, let me know how it goes," You pat his head which he leans into before walking off.
Mark would be due inside soon with the dogs and you go placing the box on the bed. Smiling to yourself you run to the livingroom and sit down in your favorite chair and turn on your show. "Roo, I'm back, the damn dogs wanted to play, yes you did." You giggle at his baby voice and see him walk in pulling off his shirt, covered in sweat.
"Kiss?" You lean back smelling him and twitch your noise. "Please, go shower," Mark chuckles and nods his head. "When did Oscar leave?" He yells down the hall and you smirk. "About 10 minutes ago, he and Lily are going swimming." You wait for a reply and turn in your chair.
"Mark?" You yell down the hall, not hearing anything you get up and walk down the hall and push open your bedroom door. Mark sat in the edge of the bed holding the little kangaroo and joey. "Are you pregnant?" He asks, his eyes filled with so much hope and want.
"Yeah, we're having a baby," You pull out the pregnancy test and hand it to him. "We're having a baby," He whispers and drops to his knees and hugs you as he kisses your stomach. "We're having a baby," You giggle and wrap your arms around him.
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dyeher · 5 months
Text
includes| Akaashi Keiji x Fem! Reader x Bokuto Koutaro— smut(1.3k words)
warnings| Oral Sex, Cum Play, Anal Fingering, Degradation, Mentions of Cucking, Mentions of Orgasm Denial, Mentions of Overstimulation, Dom/Sub Relationships.
notes| mean akaashi my beloved.
people regularly made the mistake of accusing akaashi of being the sane one in your relationship. his refined features, lean build, and gentle demeanor usually gave the illusion of elegance, propriety, vanilla. the assumption that a man who preferred to read and write in his spare time was boring was so, incredibly wrong. boring?
he was not.
akaashi keiji, behind the mahogany doors of your shared bedroom was a tyrant, a madman, an unforgiving dictator. the worst kind of leader. it was especially bad when he found one of his meticulously crafted rules were broken. there were three of them, two of which were assigned punishments and one that was left up in the air. open to anything.
rule 1: no one cums before you. the bane of koutaro’s existence is that once his dick gets anywhere near your soft walls, or your equally soft lips he’s left brainless. hyper-focused on the feel of them around him, and this leads to him cumming early. it’s almost like he can’t help it. punishment is overstimulation. the pro-athlete is strapped to a chair, a vibrator tied to the shaft of his cock, and left to stare in agony as akaashi eats you out, sucks and fingers at your pulsing walls until you scream koutaro’s name. koutaro is allowed to cum, as many times as he likes, and punishment usually ends when his orgasms come dry and leave him sobbing akaashi’s name.
“I’m sorry, ‘m sorry, ‘m sorry,” he sobs, “won’t do it again, ‘kaashi, ‘kaashi please, ‘m sorry.”
rule 2: no toys without supervision. you’re dating a manga editor and a professional athlete, not only are they busy often but, you make it an unfortunate habit of not saying anything when you feel neglected. this is where the trouble starts. you always end up sitting on the bed, the black box in your lap chewing on your lip as you consider how much time you have to get yourself off before one of them gets home. if it’s kou, then maybe you can guilt trip him into forgiving you but, if it’s akaashi? punishment involves denial.
you’re not allowed anywhere near their cock for the next seven days. they’ll play with you as they like though; keiji runs long fingers through your folds, teases at your hole absentmindedly, stuffs you with his favorite dildo, and watches your cunt flutter around the glass while koutaro fucks him on your shared bed; koutaro lets you watch as he fucks his fist in the shower, slaps your hand away when you reflexively reach out to help him, sucks on your nipples and litters your pretty skin with his marks but, ultimately leave you unfulfilled. on day eight you’re fucked senseless, made love to slowly, eaten out, doted on, whispered to, worshipped. their way of reminding you what they can do toys cannot.
rule 3: no lying. situations like these were when the real monster came out. an akaashi who took his glasses off before getting to the bedroom was a dangerous one. it was a stupid little lie, supposedly a prank that you and kou had dreamed up but, it had stressed akaashi out and now? now you were going to be punished.
“on your knees,” his voice is deceptively calm, like the lull in the seas before a tsunami, the silence of birds in the trees before a storm. “take me out, suck me off until I say to stop.”
koutaro scrambles to undo the waist of akaashi’s slacks and drag his dick free of it’s confines, he’s soft and koutaro instinctively leans in to run his tongue along it. it twitches, and koutaro hums.
“i don’t want to hear those; don’t hum, don’t moan,” akaashi sighs, “just, shut the fuck up, and suck my dick.”
you gulp where you’re kneeling next to kou, you can see the way he swallows around the head of akaashi’s cock and your pussy weeps a little at how badly he’s going to punish you. he’s moved your antics to the living area, so your knees are probably going to bruise from the rug under them but, you stay silent because you’ve not been addressed; you listen, to the wet sounds of koutaro choking on the pretty head of keiji’s dick.
you glance up to find glacial eyes trained on you. his lips are parted, and you can see that he’s breathing heavily.
“are you going to let him do all the work?” he asks. “get over here.” he shoves koutaro’s head off and motions for you to get closer. “you can both do it.”
kou watches from the other side of akaashi’s cock as you lick a long strip up the shaft and suckle the head into your mouth, he leans in and joins in, bringing one hand up to cup akaashi’s balls, as he sucks at the base and shaft. you pull back as one to run your tongues along the bottom. they rub against the heated flesh and each other, and akaashi moans at the sight.
“fuck,” he groans. “the only thing you’re good at-” kou gives a particularly hard suck at the base at the same time you dip lower to take one of his balls into your mouth and he whines, “-shit, being my little cock suckers, it’s the only thing.”
your lips and mouth are stained with akaashi’s pre-cum so are koutaro’s. by the time akaashi cums along both your tongues where they’re sticking out next to each other, koutaro’s cock is leaking everywhere and your cunt is soaked.
kou turns to you, tongue coated in cum and grabs you by the back of your head and shoves it against yours. your mind hazes, thoughts going cloudy; only akaashi’s cum mixed with kou’s saliva as it swishes around your mouth mixing with yours.
you moan as his tongue swirls around yours, the actions forces you to swallow the concoction and you’re just about to climb into him, when you’re separated by a harsh tug on your hair. your neck protests at the rough handling, your scalp burns but, the pain goes straight to your throbbing clit.
“always so selfish,” akaashi hisses. his cock twitches against his stomach when you let out twin sobs. “you’re not getting anything tonight.” he points out. “don’t do shit to make me angrier, who said you could use my cum like that?”
when no answer comes, he lets go of your hair with a shove. “get me the silicone dildo in the safe koutaro. the one with the vibrating head, and the lube,” he says, and you lock eyes with kou for a second. kou opens his mouth to tell akaashi that doesn’t sound like a punishment, and you slap a palm over his mouth.
“he’ll do it,” you say, “he’ll get it.”
akaashi laughs. “yes, he will.”
you’re concerned about the way akaashi’s smug smile grows wider when koutaro returns with it.
“i’ll be using it on myself,” he smiles. “you’ll sit over there and watch,” he motions to the other side of the room the matching armchairs stare back. “if I can’t make myself cum,” he tuts, “well, i have a few friends who’re willing to help.”
koutaro chokes, and you sink to your ass on the floor with a whimper, “’kaash-”
“sit, and watch,” he says, the hard edge to his voice has you both scrambling to the other side of the room. “if i don’t come, i’ll call osamu,” he chuckles, and koutaro glares at him from across the room, “him and suna would take care of me,” he sighs.
“we’re so-”
“i know, and after this you’ll think really hard about what you do and say without me,” he snarls the words and goosebumps erupt across your chest. “lying to me? what did you call it? a prank?” his laugh is hollow. “it’s almost like, my rules mean nothing to you.”
he’s stripped fully, and settled onto his knees on the couch, face down into the cushions.
“let’s hope i can make myself cum,” he groans as one of his fingers disappears into his ass. “otherwise…” he doesn’t have to say anything. both you and kou know he’d do it, this isn’t akaashi that they can argue with, this is the tryant.
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hysteria-things · 2 months
Note
i need a part 4 of sinful desires 🙏🙏🙏🙏
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SINFUL DESIRES (part four)
read part one here
read part two here
read part three here
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!nate x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: it’s prom season with your new boyfriend nate. let’s just say, it’s definitely a night to remember.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, pinch of fluff, tied hands, marking, teasing, oral (female receiving), a little praising, making out, fingering, p in v, possessiveness, overstimulation
ASSUME YOU’RE ON THE PILL!
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,547
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i’m so happy you guys are loving the new theme🥹
i stumbled upon this photo and nate got me spiraling like how is the (my) man low key ripped🤣
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“y/n! nate’s here!” your mom yells from the bottom of the stairs.
you’ve been trying to keep the relationship on the down low with him, but it doesn’t help that he’s attached to your hip every time you guys are in school. it didn’t take long for people to notice.
usually, he’d text you if he’s coming over, but this is the first time he’s here unannounced.
you walk down the stairs and see your mom talking to him, but when they see you your mom smiles. “i’ll leave you two be.”
she exits, and that’s when you notice a white box in his hands. “i know you don’t like attention.” he starts. “like whenever your family and mine would go out for your birthday you’d throw a hissy fit when i told the waiter to sing to you.”
you roll your eyes playfully. “yeah, yeah. what’s this about?”
“so.” he sighs. “since we’re official and because i’m not that much of an asshole to ask you in front of the whole school, i got you cupcakes.”
he opens the box, revealing five nicely decorated cupcakes with extra treats around it. it’s your favorite flavor, and the writing is in your favorite color.
you grin widely.
PROM?
the sound of the zipper is heard while your mother beams behind you. “you look so beautiful.” she says and you turn around.
not to sound biased, but your dress is beautiful. it’s red and sparkly with a slit on the side of your leg. it’s off the shoulder and flows neatly down to your ankles. the top of it is separated by a mesh with red stems and leaves stitched on it.
you hear footsteps come up the stairs, and your dad enters the room. “nate’s downstairs waiting for you.” he says, smiling at the way you look.
you get deja vu when walking down the stairs. it feels like the day when he asked you to prom a few weeks ago.
nate moistens his lips, holding your hands in his to put the corsage on your wrist. he’s wearing a simple black tux with a red tie and handkerchief, along with red dress shoes.
“you’re so fucking hot.” he mumbles so only you can hear. “i can’t believe you’re mine.”
prom went on smoothly… except for the football player who tried to flirt with you in front of your boyfriend’s face.
you didn’t feed into it or anything, but you’re a people pleaser. so, you talked back politely to the guy trying to let him down easy. he didn’t get the memo.
your dress is bunched up on the floor along with nate’s shirt and pants. he still has his boxers on for now.
he tightens the tie he wore on your hands that are tied to the headboard of his bed. he didn’t give you shit for talking to the guy, but you know this is your punishment.
he leaves wet kisses down your neck until he finds your sweet spot. biting down, you moan softly at the sensation.
a purple bruise forms, and then he moves down to your exposed breasts. he leaves multiple marks there, squeezing hard at them causing you to gasp.
he kisses down your stomach, chest heaving in the process. you’re getting wetter by the second the closer he gets to your core.
his bottom lip grazes down your body as he spreads your legs wide. he grins smuggly at the way you’re dripping. instead of going where you want him most, he bites down on the inside of your thighs to yet again leave hickeys there.
you whine when you feel his breath on your sensitive folds. “tell me what you want.” he demands, staring at the way your pussy reacts to his voice.
you squirm under the restraints but whine again in response.
“words, pretty.”
“i need you so bad, nate.” you whimper. “please. please, i’ll be—” you stop talking when his tongue flattens on your slit, licking a strand up painfully slow.
his lifts your legs on his shoulders and licks painfully slow again. you wiggle, pulling your wrists away but they don’t move an inch. he tied it good.
he moves away and hovers over your face. this teasing is making your eyes water from the way your clit is swollen from being so turned on without doing anything about it.
he smirks. “i love how needy you are. i bet i can make you cum with just my words.”
uh oh.
you turn your head away, but he takes his finger under your chin and forces you to look at him. he nibbles your earlobe before whispering. “you’re such a pretty mess for me. going to have you walking around with hickeys so people know you’re mine. maybe you can show your new friend who you were talking to before.”
you squeeze your legs together for friction, but nate notices right away and forces them back open. “need me to fuck you real good, don’t you? have you begging for me, right? remember that night i came into your room and fucked you so hard you were limping at school the next day? or when i had you bent over that desk over there?” he points, and you follow his finger and whine.
“wearing my jersey with my name on it, taking my cock as if you were made for it. tied up nice just begging to be used. i’m gonna fuck you like i own you, baby.”
you exhale, pathetically fluttering the start of your release out of you. he rubs his fingers on your clit and you moan loud before he pushes two in, pumping them as slow as a snail. “tell me you’re mine, y/n.”
you let out a quiet sob, feeling helpless under his dominance. “i-i’m yours, nate.”
he kisses your lips passionately, continuing to move his fingers in and out… in and out. you moan into the kiss, the rest of your orgasm making a mess on his sheets.
he takes them out and licks his lips when you open your mouth and suck on his digits. “that’s my good girl.”
when taking his fingers out, he goes back to your core. you rut once his tongue makes contact like it did before, but this time he does something.
your moans come out in bits and pieces while he eats you out like a starved man, hitting just the right spot. “shush. you do know my family is sleeping, right?”
“please, nate.” you scratch at the fabric. “i need to touch you.”
“no,” he says blankly, somehow digging deeper than before.
this time, his tongue moves in weird directions, until you figure out that he’s spelling out something.
MINE.
you pinch your lips together tightly so you don’t moan too loudly from the pleasure, but it’s no use. “i’ll stop.” he threatens, pulling away. “be quiet. don’t make me tell you again.”
he pulls you in closer, your legs shaking and squeezing around his head when you feel your orgasm approach for the second time. you bite your lip hard, smearing your white on his mouth.
he sighs. “i knew you’d taste good.”
finally, he pulls down his boxers to reveal the raging boner that he’s been holding in way too long.
his hands roam your body, squeezing at your arms, then your tits, then your hips, and then your thighs.
each time he squeezed, he’d say ‘mine.’
aligning himself to your hole, you’re filled with adrenaline because this is the moment you’ve been waiting for all night. his lips make contact with yours — because he knows you’ll be loud — and starts pushing into you.
he thrusts deep, but not too fast, making sure to feel how your walls wrap perfectly around him. (even though he’s felt them multiple times before)
both of your lips are red when he pulls away so you guys can breathe, soft whimpers leaving your mouth.
his forehead leans on yours. “what’s my name, pretty?”
“n—” you start but get cut off when his tip gets closer to your g-spot the more he thrusts into you.
“nathan.” you whimper, tugging like the tie will magically pop off the headboard. “oh my god, nate.”
his hand covers your mouth. your moans and squeals are muffled when he starts moving faster. he’s close himself, and all he wants to do is fill what’s his. “fuck, i’m going to cum inside you. you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
you nod frantically, pleading into his hand. he grunts and tries to not have the bed bang against the wall before spilling into you, still thrusting to make sure he coats your pussy well.
your body twitches, feeling numb but so good at the same time as you cum around his dick.
nate wipes your tears, peppering kisses on your face while he unties your hands. they hurt little, but he soothes the pain by rubbing them. he pulls you close, the sound of his heartbeat calming your breathing. “remember when i hated you?” he asks, and you laugh.
“yeah; and i hated you.”
“want to know something?” he stares at you as if you’re the most beautiful thing in the world. “i think i’m falling in love with you.”
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𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @whoreforchrissturniolo @r4iyaa @sturniolotriplettoplover @mattybswife @freshsturns @loverrsposts @sturnlcvr @elliesturniolo1 @tpvmz @user283926392 @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @sturniologirl813 @leahrab @chrissturniolosslut @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @luv4kozume @ivyyyyyysposts @mirxcle1 @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @sturniol0s
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st-danger · 19 days
Note
saint may i trouble u for somethin quick rough and nasty idc which ghouls or how or what or why their fuxkin but im obsessed w ur writing please and thank u 🙏
Dew can't breathe. There's no hand on his throat, no palm covering his mouth, but his knees are folded up to his ears and Ifrit is an imposing, impossible figure above him, pressing in and knocking the air from his lungs with every thrust. Mouth parted, looking dazed. Intense and relentless is a nice look on him, even if that's the only nice thing about him for the time being.
Dew has some hair sticking to the corner of his mouth, his sweaty forehead. His nerves feel oversensitive, his body aches already, and he isn't sure what he says please for. Not sure what he's asking, but it feels correct to say, a soft puff of air knocked from him with a particularly nasty roll of Ifrit's hips. His hands press ineffectively against Ifrit's broad chest, clawing at him as the angle lets him drill against a sensitive spot inside. It's so good and Ifrit won't let him forget it. The irritation from that will be a problem for future him, and he'll roll his eyes and play stupid when Ifrit dares to call him out later, telling him he knows he's the best he's had and that it's so obvious he needs it again. Needs to be put in his place, because the others are too nice to him. Too kind, too loving. The others don't understand the ways in which Dew needs to be fucked brainless.
"Please?" Ifrit mocks. "What more could you want?"
Ifrit buries himself deep, holds himself in, leans in further and Dew's sure he can feel him in his throat. Arms bracketing him, boxing him in. Not that he has any leverage like this, but even if he wasn't folded up to be used, ankles over his shoulders, he still wouldn't be able to wriggle away if Ifrit's on him. He's possessed, thoroughly and inescapably, and he'll have the bite marks and bruises to show for it when he's finally finished using him. He will ache, he will wince, and nothing will ever feel as good as when Ifrit uses him like an object.
"Please," Dew wheezes again, and knows his cock is leaking a spot of pre onto his belly. Knows that each thrust he gets is moving him, smearing the wet spot around his skin, cock trapped between their stomachs. He can finish from this. It's barely enough friction on his dick, but it's enough with how keyed up he is, which how perfectly Ifrit nudges inside him right there. The sum of it all is enough, the helplessness, the cruelty. "Use- me, make me, c'mon, make me cum."
Ifrit adjusts enough to where he can lean all his weight onto one arm, freeing the other to grab Dew's face. Thumb digging into one cheek, fingertips into the other, forceful and aggressive and squeezing, squishing his face. Reflexively, Dew's hands fly to his arm, though not to pull it away. To anchor. Ifrit's eyes burn into his, brow knit together, staring at him like he can see more than anyone else. Something secret and shamefully weak.
"I'm fucking you until I'm done," Ifrit warns, voice dark and low. "You don't want to cum early." Dew nods, eyes wide, and Ifrit drags out slow and then slams back in. Fucks a pathetic whimper out of him. Repeats. The hand on his face is painful. He has to look stupid. "Yeah? You wouldn't want to take my cock all sensitive like that, would you?" Each snap of his hips makes Dew's eyes struggle to focus, little toes curling. "That'd be awful for you," Ifrit grunts, throbbing hard when he pauses before drawing out again. "All used up and cryin' for me. Be a fucked up thing for you to want."
Dew nods again as best he can with his face being gripped the way it is.
"Please," he says again, weak.
162 notes · View notes
Note
pleaser part 4 pls 🙏🙏🙏
Hiiii! I hope you like it!
Sorry I left it on a cliffhanger again but I'll have the next part this weekend if anyone wants it!
Also, I'm sorry it took so long for me to write this, but I literally had almost 20 requests in my ask box for it. HOPEFULLY it doesn't suck😭
AND I STG BAD IDEA, RIGHT?(Part 4) IS STILL COMING! I'm struggling to get the end just right lmao.
Pleaser - Stepbrother!Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader - Part 4
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This contains SMUT - Minors DNI
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
Summary: You're still sneaking around with your stepbrother, and it's looking like you have the chance to actually be together with your mom and his dad splitting up.
Contains: p in v, fingering-ish, thigh riding, stepcest but like...your mom and Ethan's dad aren't really together anymore so is it really that bad💀(I know I'm probably missing something but if I read this again, I'll delete the whole fucking thing lmao)
A/N: There's a lot of dialog in this fic, even the smut. If that's not your thing, don't read it:)
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After a couple weeks of you sneaking around with Ethan, you started to get a little reckless. You knew how close you were to leaving for college, and you knew the odds of your mom sending you away at the last minute weren’t very high. It got to the point where he was sneaking through your bedroom window every night because you didn’t want to sleep without him. Then, he’d have an alarm set to wake up before Wayne and your mom would get up for work and go back to his room.
The situation between your mom and his dad seemed to be civil, even though Wayne had to sleep on the couch while he tried to find a house. He even contemplated getting an apartment for him and Ethan while they figured it out, but your mom was adamant that it wasn’t a big deal. As irritated as she was over the situation, she didn’t feel right for Ethan to bounce from place to place right before he was leaving for college anyway.
You were sure that your mom had no idea that you were still spending time with Ethan, but she started to notice little things. The flirty glances, the sneaky subtle touches. But what really let her know that you’d found a way to spend alone time with Ethan was when you were helping her make dinner, like you always did, and you put your hair up to get it out of the way. She saw the huge purple mark on the nape of your neck, and she realized that you had no idea it was even there once Ethan walked into the kitchen to see what was for dinner, and his eyes grew wide the second he saw it. He motioned for you to put your hair back down, your cheeks turning bright red. You thought she didn’t notice because she didn’t say anything, but she was planning to later that night after dinner.
Just like clockwork, you and Ethan excused yourself to go to bed right after dinner was over. He was crawling through your bedroom window as you walked over to cut the lights off, your room only lit by the moonlight that was pouring through the window before Ethan closed it and drew the curtains shut.
As you crawled in bed with him, he couldn’t keep his hands off you. Your back was pressed to his chest as your legs were spread for him, his fingers rubbing over your panties as he placed open mouth kisses along the side of your neck.
“You’re so hard,” you said, as your ass was pressed against his cock that was straining in his boxers.
“You always do this to me,” he mumbled against your neck. “I want to fuck you so bad right now.”
“You can,” you whispered, as he slid your panties to the side.
“You think you can be quiet?” he asked, a gasp slipping past your lips as he slid one of his fingers inside you.
Before you could say anything else, you heard a light knock on your door before it eased open. Ethan pulled his hand away from you as you closed your legs. You both froze in fear as you saw the silhouette of your mom as she made her way inside your room.
“Are you still awake?” she whispered, as she tried to navigate through the darkness of your room.
“Yeah, I was almost asleep. Just don’t cut the light on,” you said, your anxiety creeping up as she sat down on the foot of your bed.
“We need to talk about you and Ethan,” she said softly, “I know you’ve still been sneaking around.”
Ethan was trying to be as still as possible as he laid beside you. He was so thankful for your blackout curtains, and how you really couldn’t see anything in the room.
“I know you’re probably going to try to deny it, and I don’t want you to lie to me right now. Please be honest with me,” she said, as you took a deep breath.
“When am I going to dads?” you asked, confirming her suspicions without actually admitting to it.
“Do you love Ethan?” she asked, as you tensed up. You hadn’t said those three words yet, and you knew she was just trying to have girl talk with you to know where your feelings were, but you didn’t want to tell her when he was right behind you. “I think he loves you. He looks at you like it’s way more than just some fling.”
“It’s not just some fling,” you said, as you felt Ethan's hand rubbing against the back of your thigh. “I guess I do have really strong feelings for him.”
“I know I was upset when I first found out about the two of you, but I really like him. I’ve seen a different side of him since the weekend that Wayne and I went on our little trip,” she said, as she started to laugh to herself. “You know he used to annoy the shit out of me.”
“He’s actually really sweet,” you said, as his hand just kept moving.
“I’m not going to send you to your dads…and I think I’ll ask Wayne and Ethan to take the cameras down. They don’t really seem to be serving a purpose,” she said, “But, don’t think that I’m okay with the two of you going crazy. I don’t want to walk in here one morning and see him in your bed or something.”
“I’m not that stupid,” you mumbled, “But I’m really tired. Can we talk more about this tomorrow?”
“Of course, honey. Get some sleep,” she said, as she stood up to make her way towards the door. “If you want, we can go get stuff for your dorm tomorrow. Ethan can come, too.”
“Cool, I’ll ask him about it in the morning,” you said, as she opened the door and walked out, quietly closing it behind her.
You and Ethan laid in silence for a few minutes to give your mom plenty of time to go to bed, but he still snaked his arm around you to hold you close.
“Did she just give you permission for us to be together?” he whispered in your ear.
“I think so,” you said, smiling at the thought of it. “I’m sorry if she made things awkward.”
“I think the only awkward part was me being in the bed with you and she had no idea,” he said as he softly laughed against your neck. “Are you talking about the feelings stuff?”
“Yeah…I know we haven’t really discussed that yet. I didn’t know what to say.”
���Do you have really strong feelings for me like you said?” he said, as his hand ran up your thigh.
“I do,” you said softly.
“Good, because your mom was right…about me loving you.”
“You love me?” you asked, as he nodded his head against you.
“I have since we were left alone for the whole weekend.”
You adjusted on the bed so you were facing him, your legs tangling with his as he held you close.
“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” you questioned, as he sighed.
“It’s a complicated situation. I didn’t want to say it until I knew we actually had a chance to be together.”
“I love you, too, babe,” you said, as you leaned up to kiss him. You started to laugh against his lips once you felt how hard he still was, his cock brushing against you. “You’re still hard.”
“I told you; the idea of getting caught is my kink,” he mumbled against your lips. “You still want me to fuck you?”
“Mhm.”
He connected his lips to yours again, his hand running over the curve of your ass as he rubbed his cock against you. You were getting more wet by the second, the anticipation building as his tongue moved across your bottom lip. He moved his leg so his thigh was pressed against your pussy, as you started to grind against him, gasping at the friction on your clit.
Your breathing got heavier as you kept moving your hips, and once his hand on you ass was helping you move faster, you were trying so hard to be quiet. He started to groan once he felt how wet you were, your panties completely soaked as you rubbed against him.
“You think you could cum like this?” Ethan said, his tone teasing as his hand went to your hip to hold you down harder against him.
“Oh fuck,” you whimpered, as he softly laughed.
You reached between the two of you to palm him over his boxers, as he helped you move. He attached his lips to yours again to keep quiet himself, because his cock was throbbing so hard as your hand moved over the fabric. He wanted to fuck you so bad, but he wanted you to fall apart over his thigh in between your legs first.
You were whimpering into the kiss as you felt yourself start to get close. He pulled his lips away from yours, his bottom lip in between his teeth as he helped you move as fast as you could.
“Oh my god,” you said, your voice strained as he helped bring you closer to the edge.
“Try to be quiet, baby,” he said, his voice raspy as your legs started to tremble.
“I can’t,” you panted, “Fuck, we’re gonna get caught.”
“No, we’re not,” he said, as he leaned down to kiss you, hard. His mouth caught all the sounds you were trying to hard to hold in as your orgasm hit, your hand still shakily rubbing over his cock.
The grip he had on your hip loosened as you slowed down, your moans turning to soft whimpers as you started to relax against him.
“That was so hot,” he said against your lips, as your breathing started to slow.
“Now, I need to make you cum,” you said softly, reaching into his boxers to pull his cock out.
He let out a low moan once you started stroking, paying extra attention to his sensitive tip.
“Try to be quiet, baby,” you teased, “You want me to suck it?”
“I need to be inside you,” he said, “I want to feel your pussy.”
“Okay, let me grab a condom,” you said, untangling your legs from his before you rolled over to reach into your nightstand.
“I still think it’s funny that you don’t hide them under your bed anymore,” he said, chuckling as you reached into the almost empty box.
“What’s the point? My mom knows I’m not a virgin now,” you shrugged, as you felt him move closer to you, his hand pulling you towards him so your back was against his chest again.
“I can’t believe she thought you were just so innocent,” he said, as his lips went to your neck again, his hand running under the big t-shirt you were wearing. He squeezed your breast, a soft moan slipping past your lips at the feeling.
“I am innocent,” you said, your words making him squeeze you harder.
“You’re far from innocent…especially when you’re in bed with me.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said, playing dumb as you moved so your ass was firmly pressed against his cock.
“Keep that shit up and you won’t be able to be quiet,” he playfully warned, as he started to suck on your neck.
You moaned at the feeling as his hand moved to your hips, hooking your panties under his thumb as you adjusted to make it easier for him to slide them down. You passed him the condom, your anticipation building as you heard him open it. He rolled it on and grabbed your leg, spreading them open so it’d be easier for him to slide inside of you.
“Don’t be loud,” he reminded you, as he started to push inside you.
“Oh my god,” you whispered, feeling him stretch your walls.
“Shh, you can take it.”
Once Ethan was all the way in, he stilled to give you time to adjust, but that wasn’t what you wanted. You started to move your hips, giving your pussy the friction it was craving. He groaned at your actions as his hand started to roam under your shirt again.
“You gonna help me out or not?” you asked, once you’d been moving for a little bit and he wasn’t.
“I want you to beg me for it,” he said, as you kept moving.
“Please?” you asked, as he chuckled.
“Not good enough,” he teased, “Tell me how bad you want it.”
“So fucking bad,” you said, as his hand moved to your hip. “I need you to fuck me, please baby.”
He started to move, but it was so slow. He was helping you meet his thrusts, the tip of his cock hitting that spot every single time, but you needed so much more.
“Ethan,” you whined, as he shushed you. “Please.”
He didn’t know how quiet you were going to be, but he couldn’t hold back anymore. He started giving you hard, deep thrusts, as your hand slapped over your mouth. The grip he had on your hip was getting tighter, as your free hand started to grip at the sheets. He placed kisses along your neck as he started to whisper in your ear.
“You take my cock so well.”
“Your pussy is perfect.”
“I’ve got you.”
He knew you were getting close, the sounds muffled by your hand just getting louder as he started to go faster.
“Keep moving your hips, baby.”
You did as he said, his hand leaving your hip to rub fast circles against your clit. You were whimpering as your toes started to curl, your entire body getting hot as he brought you closer to your orgasm.
He let out a low groan when your pussy started to clench him, his fingers pressing even harder as he rubbed your clit. Your body started to arch against him as you cried out against your palm, your eyes rolling back as the intense euphoric feeling washed over you.
“Gonna cum,” he panted, as his hand went back to your hip, his cock giving you a few more hard thrusts before his grip on you got shaky. “Fuuuck.”
You both laid there, the only sounds in the room were the heavy breathing coming from the two of you until it started to return to normal. He slid out of you and crawled off the bed to navigate around the darkness of your room to the trash can to dispose of the condom before he laid back down and wrapped his arms around you. You soon dozed off with Ethan’s head nuzzled against your neck.
The next morning, you woke up with Ethan’s arms still wrapped around you. You reached over to your nightstand to check your phone, your eyes growing wide once you noticed that Ethan didn’t set his alarm.
“Babe, wake up,” you said, your hand shaking his arm as he sleepily mumbled. “Ethan, it’s almost eight.”
“Fuck,” he whispered as he sat up and jumped out of bed. “Where’s my sweatpants?”
He walked over to your curtains to let a little light in so he could see, his heart pounding in his chest one he noticed your mom working in the flower bed right outside of your window. The moving curtains caught her attention, and when she glanced up, she saw Ethan quickly trying to close them.
“Your mom’s out there,” he whisper-yelled, feeling around on your floor until he finally found his sweatpants.
“Did she see you?” you questioned, jumping off the bed to put your pajama bottoms on.
“Fuck, I don’t know,” he said, “I’m so stupid.”
You tried to think of a plan, but once you heard the front door open, you walked over to your bedroom door and eased it open to see your mom walk in.
“Out the window, now,” you said, rushing him as he did what you said.
Once he was out of your room and you closed the window behind him, you turned around to walk back to the door to see your mom standing there.
“Maybe we do need to look into you going to your dads.”
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theragethatisdesire · 10 months
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"l’amore è cieco" - eren x reader - 18+!!!
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back to the ti penso universe!!! finally!! did you guys miss it? i know i did; i am utterly obsessed with these two. i've had this sitting in my unfinished wip pile for way too long not to share.
our lovebirds have gotten the wedding all wrapped up with, so we're a solid four years past them reuniting in italy....and surprise! they're expecting!!!!! i could literally scream just writing that; the grip dad!eren has on me will never let up, i fear......anyways, this one's a little rough because i've picked it apart a thousand times and i'm just tired of editing, so you guys enjoy!!! sorry if it's not quite up to par :/
pairing: eren x reader
wc: 4k
DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.
CWs: smut, reader is pregnant, use of names (baby, mama, pretty, beautiful, etc), swearing, vaginal sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, breeding kink, lactation kink, creampie, crying, tooth-rotting fluff
title means "love is blind" in italian, per tradition w this verse <3
-
Right on schedule with your new daily, depressing routine, you stand in front of the mirror running your hands over your body, examining the recent changes. On second thought, scrutinizing might be a better word.
You’re grateful your job has allowed you to work from home for your entire pregnancy, editing articles from the journalists who can actually travel while snuggled up on your couch, but the downside of it is that you’ve had far too much time to mull on all of the ways your body has stretched and warped to accommodate the growing little girl in your stomach. You thought pregnancy was supposed to be beautiful, and sometimes it is, but more often than not, you just feel like a swollen, hormonal mess.
You “popped”, as all the mommy podcasts say, about two weeks ago, and thin stretch marks have begun to appear on your stomach. Eren calls them your “tiger stripes”, having been in full-blown cringe dad mode since the day you took the test. Bizarre cravings control you at all hours of the day, evidenced by the little black crumbs you’re picking out of your sports bra, left behind by your fourteen-Oreo breakfast today. You gaze longingly at the jewelry box on your bathroom counter; you haven’t been able to wear your wedding band in weeks, the tan line already beginning to fade from your finger. Before you can get a hold of yourself, the hormones have you in their grip, and hot, frustrated tears are spilling down your cheeks.
“Babe, have you seen that tie with the red–” Eren materializes in the doorway with absolutely no warning, as he’s prone to do, but cuts himself off at the sight of you, “baby, no, again?”
“Don’t say it like that,” you say, reluctantly allowing him to take you in his arms.
“Like what?” Eren’s voice is sweet, but hesitant. He’s been living under the constant threat of getting his head bitten off for mundane reasons because of you. It makes you feel worse, makes you shove him away and glare at him accusingly.
“Like I’m always fucking crying.” You are always crying, but you wish he would at least muster up some semblance of surprise at finding you in tears yet again. You turn away from him, wiping your face in the mirror. “Shouldn’t you be packing? Your flight leaves in like, three hours.”
“I’ll cancel,” Eren coos, stepping behind you to wrap his arms around your waist, picking your belly up in his hands.
It’s some hack he got off Tik Tok, supposed to take the weight off of your back for a precious moment, and as much as you don’t necessarily want to be touched right now, it actually helps. You’ve been alternating between thinking Eren’s overenthusiastic parenting research is adorable and mind-numbingly annoying, but for the moment, your back has stopped aching for the first time all morning, and you sigh, leaning into him.
“You can’t cancel,” you murmur, momentarily soothed, “‘s a big client. Where is it again? France?”
“I just got back from France, Miss Pregnancy Brain,” Eren chuckles, quieting immediately upon catching your lethal gaze in the mirror. “It’s just over in LA, and honestly, I could have Hitch go if you need me.”
“No, I can take care of myself, it’s just like…” a fresh wave of tears spills down your cheeks, “fuck, I don’t even know what’s wrong with me.”
Eren nods into your shoulder, letting you sniffle. It’s not a new trait, your outright refusal to ask for help, but it’s been exacerbated by your pregnancy, especially considering exactly how much help you actually need now.
You’ve taken custody of all of his sweatpants, not yet able to bring yourself to buy maternity clothes. You’d walked in sobbing and humiliated the other day because you’d peed yourself on the long elevator ride up to your apartment in front of the neighbors. You can’t sleep on your stomach anymore; Eren has to prop himself up just right beside you and sandwich you between himself and a wall of pillows to stop you from turning. You know it hurts him seeing you miserable, and you try to suck it up and enjoy the positives of pregnancy as much as you can, but you can’t muster up that strength every day.
“Hush,” Eren pulls your wet face to his chest, letting you stain the Number 1 Dad! t-shirt he had bought himself. “I’m not going.”
“Eren–”
“I’m not,” he says firmly, rubbing small circles into the bottom of your spine, “you need me here, whether you want to admit it or not.”
You grumble complacently, nuzzling into him. You do need him, as much as you want to think you can tough it out on your own. Eren’s bought book after book, not just for the baby, but for you. Most nights you find him reading titles like You’ve Made the Baby…Now What? or How to Survive Pregnancy: A Guide for Men with his feet propped up on the coffee table, a habit that, despite your efforts, you cannot nag him out of. It’s cute, honestly, how over-the-top he’s gotten with baby prep, especially when you’re often too exhausted to wrap your mind around reading a parenting guide.
“I feel ugly,” you admit quietly, sticky and snotty against his shirt. “I feel disgusting.”
“What?” Eren’s reaction is one of genuine confusion. He pushes you away from him so he can search your face, waiting patiently for you to elaborate.
“I’m gaining an obscene amount of weight, my ankles are the size of my knees, I can’t wear a single one of my rings, what am I supposed to feel like?”
Eren frowns. “Those things are supposed to happen. I read last night–”
“I don’t care!” Your voice cracks under the weight of your frustration, and you press your fingers into your eyes hard enough to see stars, trying to regain control of your temper. “I don’t care that it’s supposed to happen. It still sucks.”
“I think you’re beautiful,” Eren sounds earnest, but you scoff at him anyway.
“We’re married. You’re supposed to say that.”
“I don’t have to.”
You cock an eyebrow at him. “If you want your head to stay on your shoulders you do.”
Eren laughs at that, tugging you over to stand between his legs as he sits on the bed. “So, you’re serious? You genuinely don’t think you look good pregnant?”
“No,” you rub at your nose, “I don’t.”
Eren looks up at you, cupping your face gently. “I disagree.”
“Do you really?”
“I think you look better than ever.”
“That’s an insult to non-pregnant me,” you roll your eyes, moving to step away, but Eren holds you tight between his legs.
“It’s not,” he insists, “there’s just some things your pregnant body has that you didn’t necessarily have before. Some things that I like.”
You cock an eyebrow at him. “Cankles?”
Eren chuckles breathily, shaking his head. “I adore your cankles, but they weren't exactly the first thing that came to mind. Take these, for one thing.”
Eren presses his nose into your sports bra, hands moving up underneath to palm at your swollen tits. You let out a breathy laugh as he explores, already feeling a low heat beginning to simmer in your core. That’s one perk of entering your second trimester; your hormones might turn on a dime, but your sex drive has skyrocketed.
Eren shoves your bra up to free your tits, groaning appreciatively as he takes a nipple into his mouth, licking and sucking. You watch as he feels his way around with his mouth, humming contentedly under your breath, when suddenly, his eyes fly open and he shoots away from you.
“What?”
Eren shushes you, bringing a hand to the breast that had been in his mouth and squeezing lightly. White liquid beads on your nipple, and you cover your face in shame.
“When did that start?”
“A few days ago,” you admit, trying to push his hands off of you, cheeks burning. Eren swats you away, leaning back into your nipple, sucking harder. You can feel a small stream of milk leaving you, relieving some of the pressure in your tits; a moan rumbles deep in Eren’s chest, and you can see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. Eren releases your nipple with a loud pop and looks up at you panting, eyes blown wide.
“Is it weird that that’s kinda hot?”
“Probably.”
“Does it hurt?”
“No,” you hum, threading your hands through his hair and urging him back to your chest, “feels good.”
That’s all Eren needs to hear, diving back into your chest with renewed vigor. As he continues, you realize it doesn’t just feel good, it actually feels incredible. You’ve always had sensitive breasts, but with the pregnancy, sensation has increased tenfold; you can feel your panties getting wetter as the weight of your full breast decreases. When Eren’s gotten all he can from your left nipple, he moves to your right, replacing his mouth on the now-abandoned nipple with his hand to twist gently at the wet skin.
The combined sensation makes your knees buckle; Eren saves you smoothly by wrapping an arm around your lower back, yanking you to him to straddle his leg. It’s the perfect angle for you to roll your hips against his thigh slowly, feeling the much-needed friction of his sweatpants against your cunt.
“Eren…” you breathe out, voice nothing more than a wisp of air.
“I know baby,” Eren speaks directly into your flesh, not willing to back away for even a moment, “feels good, doesn’t it?”
“Feels so good,” you whimper, clutching him to you with fistfuls of his hair.
“Told you this new body’s not so bad, hm?” Eren closes his teeth down on your nipple lightly; you almost keel over from the shockwave it sends through you.
You nod, rubbing yourself against his thigh faster. It’s awkward and cumbersome with your belly in the way, but it’s enough for now, enough to light your nerves on fire in that way that only Eren’s ever been able to.
“Fuckin’ ridiculous,” Eren mutters, grabbing onto your hips to help you get your rhythm right, “you’re so perfect, and you don’t even see it.”
Your fingers dig into his arms as you moan. “But my stomach–”
“But nothing,” Eren kisses you, mumbling into your mouth, “love your stomach, love your tits, love all of it. You think it doesn’t make me so fucking hard, watching you walk around with that big belly and knowing what it came from? I did that. We did that, didn’t we baby?”
“Mhm,” you bite into his shoulder, the friction on your clit through your sweatpants is getting to your head, making you dizzy. “Eren, Eren–”
“Sh sh sh,” Eren shushes you, moving so that he can look you in the eyes, “what do you need? Tell me.”
“I don’t– I don’t know, I just…” you can’t find the words, so in need of him that you can’t even decide what sounds best. His mouth? His fingers? All of it?
“Okay, okay,” Eren says quietly, standing you both up only to lay you against the pillows, “I’ve gotcha.”
He nudges his sweatpants down your legs, bringing your panties with them, spreads your legs so he can see the most intimate part of you. Eren brings his hand to your clit, rubbing tentatively, but you’re so desperate for him that it’s enough to make your back arch, a long, throaty moan ripping out of you. He lays beside you, gently playing with your clit and watching in awe at the reaction you give him, already a blubbering mess after only a few minutes.
“So sensitive, aren’t you mama?”
“Yes,” you hiss out through clenched teeth, a fresh wave of arousal flooding you at the name, “s-so sensitive. Need to cum, I need, n-need–”
“I’ll make you cum,” Eren promises, sinking a finger into you, “I’ll make you cum, baby.”
“Fuck, Eren, it’s– I can’t–”
“Feel good?”
“So fucking good,” you’re basically sobbing at this point, fingers clenched into the muscles of his bicep, clinging to him and humping his hand. You’re not sure if it’s the lack of sex over the first trimester (“What if I hit the baby’s head?” Eren had asked nervously whenever you approached him) or the rawness of the sensation against your over-sensitive body, but you’ve never been so close to your orgasm so quickly.
You don’t hold out long; Eren’s skilled with even just one finger, and before long, you’re crying out his name, gushing all over his hand. Eren presses his lips to your forehead in a sweet kiss despite having utterly destroyed you less than thirty seconds ago.
“Ready for me?”
“Sit,” you pant, pointing to the massive stack of pillows against your headboard. Eren raises his eyebrows in surprise, but does as he’s told, only pausing to pull his clothes off. The loss of the stupid dad t-shirt is a relief as much as feeling his bare chest under your hands. Due to your hormones, you’ve thrown Eren out of the house several times, and you’ve demanded to be alone enough to where his only solution is to go to the gym downstairs and work out until you’ve calmed down. It shows: his chest has grown broader and stronger, and the veins on his arms are nearly popping through the skin. “You look good.”
“Yeah?” Eren offers a shit-eating grin, flexing his bicep ever so subtly. “You should see yourself.”
“You seriously think I look good like this?” You’re straddling his hips now, rubbing your clit on his bare cock. It’s a lewd sight, his cock drooling on his abs, glistening with your cum; your cunt clenches around nothing, more than ready to be filled.
“Mhm, you look so fucking good like that,” Eren grunts, hands finding your hips again and lifting you up to sink you down on his cock, both of you letting out loud, satisfied groans, “but you look much better like this.”
You grind your hips against his, not possessing the energy to bounce your now-heavier body, but it makes you see stars. Eren rarely lets you ride him, much preferring to bend you over or pin you to the bed himself, but with your bump, you now have an excuse to hop on top of him whenever you like. It’s been close to a decade of fucking him, but the full stretch of him never fails to shock you, the way he pushes into you until you’re positive he’s in your stomach. With Eren sitting up, his cock stays firmly nestled against your g-spot, pushing little bits of squirt out of you with each movement of your hips.
“Eren–” you whimper, holding your breasts as you rock into him.
“Shit- you’re so tight like this,” Eren says through his clenched jaw, throwing his head back against the headboard, “why don’t you ride me more often?”
“You don’t let me,” you say with a watery giggle.
“Stupid,” Eren gasps, “‘m so fucking stupid.”
You’re too fucked out to voice your agreement, opting for sliding a hand down your body to flick at your clit. You can’t quite reach it around your bump, though, a discontented noise leaving your lips. Eren opens his eyes, takes notice of the way you’re hunching your back, and swats your hand away.
“I got it, I got it,” he pants, tucking his hand underneath your swollen belly to rub your clit just the way he knows you like it.
“Oh, f-fuck,” you choke out, throwing your head back.
“Good?”
“Yeah,” you hiss, “‘s perfect.”
“Take what you need, mama,” Eren’s watching you intently, a glimmer of admiration in his eye, “take what you need.”
You’re moaning pitifully, loud and wanton as Eren’s cock moves inside of you. Your cunt tightens around him desperately as the bubble building in your stomach threatens to explode.
“Think you get wetter like this, all swollen with my baby,” Eren muses, leaning forward to latch his mouth around one of your nipples where more milk has already started to pool. His words have a visceral reaction on you; you cry, tears welling in your eyes as you spiral towards your release. 
“I think–I think I’m gonna– oh fuck, don’t stop,” you croon, rocking your hips as fast as you can manage. Eren mumbles around your nipple, something about how beautiful you look, and you come undone around him, grinding your hips hard against his and cradling him to your chest. He might have a point- there’s damn near a puddle of your arousal at the base of where you’re connected, slicking up the skin on his hips and the inside of your thighs.
“Better?” Eren pulls you in for a kiss; you can feel him grinning through it.
“Maybe a little,” you admit, laughing light and watery against his mouth.
“Mmm,” Eren hums, grabbing you by the hips and lifting you only to drop you down again and turn your laughter to a quiet whimper, “not good enough. Need you to be much better.”
“Fuck me, then,” you nip at his bottom lip, earn yourself a deep groan.
“Can you— can you hold yourself up like this?” Eren scooches both of you down, albeit, a little awkwardly, so that he can lay flat on the bed. He moves you up until you’ve only got him halfway inside of you, cocking a questioning eyebrow at you.
“Yeah, I–I think so.”
“And you’re sure I’m not going to hurt–”
“Jesus Christ– no Eren, it’s fine, just– fuck,” he cuts you off with a sharp snap of his hips up into yours, grinning menacingly when your eyes roll back.
“Like that?”
“Just like that,” you moan, annoyance wiped from you with one clean stroke. Eren takes that for the green light that it is and starts pistoning his hips up into you, swearing under his breath. Even though he’d instructed you to hold yourself up, he makes good use of his new muscles, suspending you at the perfect height to feel every inch of him as he fucks up into you like his life depends on it.
“You look so fucking gorgeous like this,” Eren growls, “all swollen with my fuckin’ baby. Gonna keep you like this, give you as many as you want.”
“Eren–” you choke out, suffocating on the way he’s fucking you, his words, him. For the first time in months, you feel amazing, holding your chest and groaning long and loud as Eren thrusts up into you.
“Baby, I’m- fuck, not gonna–” Eren cuts himself off with something that sounds suspiciously close to a whimper, throwing his head back.
“Cum in me,” you pant, nodding urgently at him, “want it so bad.”
“Oh fuck,” Eren groans, hips moving impossibly faster. His fingers are digging into your hips near to the point of pain, and that little frown he makes when he’s about to cum is crumpling his face. You do want it, badly.
“Please Eren, I need it,” you gasp, legs trembling on either side of his hips.
“Fucking love you, love you so much,” Eren slurs, hips stuttering. With a long, throaty moan, he slams you down one final time, cumming deep inside of you. You grind against him as he does, moaning along with him at the familiar warmth in your belly. Exhausted, you momentarily forget about your bump and try to collapse facefirst on him- that’s enough to snap Eren out of his post-orgasm haze.
“Whoa, whoa,” Eren shoves you back upright, lifting you under your shoulders and laying you on your back, “careful.”
You wince. “Shit, sorry. Sometimes I forget. It’s still sort of new.”
“I know,” Eren agrees, eyes locked lovingly on your baby bump, “love it, though.”
“Really?”
Eren cocks a disbelieving eyebrow at you. “If that didn’t convince you, I don’t know what will.”
You giggle at that; he’s always been good at this, cheering you up and diffusing your worries like it’s second nature. After ten years, it probably is at this point.
“I don’t mean to be so down on myself, really,” you sigh, tracing a finger over where his hand’s splayed on your stomach, “it’s just…so much harder than I thought it would be.”
Eren nods thoughtfully. “That’s reasonable. But you’re so good at it.”
“I haven’t even– what?” The insecurities that you’ve been successfully masking under good natured teasing and occasional annoyance come slipping from between your lips. You’ve thought it for weeks; how Eren’s so into all the baby stuff, so enthusiastic about learning everything he can, while all you’ve managed is trying not to gag when he cooks eggs in the morning and picking out some onesies. “What about all of your books and your podcasts and crap? You’re the one doing everything.”
“That’s all I can do,” Eren scoffs, “you’re doing all the hard stuff, like carrying the baby around and puking every morning and crying all the time–”
“Hey!”
“I’m serious,” Eren shushes you, “you’re putting in all the legwork. I mean, you’re literally growing our baby. You’re a fucking rockstar mom already. If anyone’s not doing enough here, it’s me.”
That’s one thing about Eren that will never get easier; his deep, unwavering admiration for you, no matter what you’re doing. Sure, it’s endearing when Eren spins you around in his arms for something as simple as finally getting that croissant recipe to come out well, but when he’s praising you for something that’s actually difficult? It’s sweet enough to give you a cavity, warm your heart, and turn your cheeks pink all at once, even after all this time.
“Well, if you’d like to take a shift carrying her around, be my guest. She’s a chunky little thing already,” you roll your eyes, tucking your face into Eren’s ribs to mask the flush rising to your face.
“I’d do it for you if I could,” Eren sighs in faux-thoughtfulness, “but I wouldn’t look half as hot.”
You giggle furiously when he lands a slap to your ass, swatting at his chest. “God, it still doesn’t feel real, does it? A little girl that’s half you, half me.”
“It does and it doesn’t,” Eren shrugs, bringing a hand back to your stomach, “I don’t know about you, but I’ve been thinking about it since Italy.”
You gape at him. “That long?”
“You know I’m always ahead of you on this stuff,” Eren teases, squeezing your cheeks together, “knew I wanted you first, knew I wanted you back first, knew we should get married…”
“Yeah, yeah,” you roll your eyes at his bragging, “it’s just, like…are we ready? To do this?”
“This?” Eren cocks his head.
“The whole…‘parents’ thing.”
“Putting aside the fact that you're way too late to be having those kinds of thoughts,” Eren says, rubbing your lower back, “of course we’re ready. There’s no perfect parents, but I believe in us– believe in you. Gonna be the best mama any baby’s ever had, I know you will.”
“I don’t even…oh, Eren.” You’re tearing up again–damn hormones. Eren wipes at your tears, planting a big kiss on your forehead.
“I mean it. You’re going to be great, already are,” he says, smiling down at you. He holds you just like that for a few moments, letting you nuzzle into his chest, until his little grin grows wicked. “Although…the only thing I can say I am worried about is which one of us is going to accidentally teach her her first swear word. Should we bet on it?"
Even through your tears, you cock an eyebrow at him. “You and I both know that’s going to be Jean. Especially after what you taught Clara the last time we babysat.”
Eren barks out a laugh. “Hey, hearing her call Jean ‘Daddy Jackass’ was funny, and you know it!”
“Thanks for reminding me,” you smirk, “now I know what I’m teaching our little girl first.”
“No way!”
862 notes · View notes
eldaryan · 3 months
Note
AHHH OMG THAT STORY FOR “His little kitten” I LOVED IT, I MEAN YOUR SO ABSOLUTELY AMAZING AT WRITING!
PLEASE, PLEASE, CONTINUE IT, IM LITERALLY BEGGING!! 🧎‍♀️😭
Maybe something along the lines of we come home after a stressful day at work and decide to go full on dress up as a cat for RZ Michael. Omg it’d be so cute and if you don’t mind NSFW.
Thxsm!! 😭❤️
}Hi! Yeah, sorry for taking so, SO long with it, but my life got pretty messed up but… I never forgot about it and the other asks. Please, I hope you enjoy it!🌹
•Warning: Smut, agnst, mentions of killing (lightly), +18 (minors dni), finger teasing, a bit of fluff (a bit), female reader, unprotected sex, bread kink.
🤓Under revision📃
His Need
Part 1 • Part 2 (His Possession)
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What a day. You loved your job, but some days, it was just so exhaustive. Indecisive people or people who end up not buying anything, others ignorant and difficult to deal with, others who treated you as if you were nobody and didn't understand anything about the business… But at least you were finally home. You could take a long bath in your tub, wear your most comfy pajamas and cuddle with Michael. Oh, Michael. You almost forgot.
— Michael? I’m home!
You yell from the entrance, letting him know of your presence. Normally just opening the door he knew you arrived home, greeting you and standing on the stairs.
— Weird. He’s not here.
You take off your shoes, keeping only your socks on and you start walking around the house looking for Michael, not finding him in the living room or the kitchen. Maybe He is upstairs? With that thought, you made your way to your bedroom, not finding him there either.
— He still out hunting?
A shiver runs down his spine, imagining him killing someone. You had already talked with Michael about his “hobby”, trying to convince him to kill only the people who deserved it, after all, as you saw Chucky say in a movie: there are people who really deserve to die.
After much persuasion, and favors, Michael agreed to your request, just looking for victims who truly deserved the fate of the boogeyman's blade. You shrug your shoulders, forgetting about it now and taking off your clothes, just wanting your bath and relax from this day. Walking towards your bathroom, you turn the faucet, letting the water fall into the tub. With your hand you feel the hot water. Just how you like it.
You enter the tub, letting your body rest and a sigh escape from your lips, feeling the warm water embracing you. Washing your body, you just can think about the last time Michael did share a bath here, when you could convince him to. How his massive body did embrace yours, almost not fitting in the tub. The water escaping with every trust of his hips… He was a possessive man, kinda aggressive, but that’s how he is. Wasn’t his fault. With some research, you’ve found everything about his childhood, his forced treatment… ”Poor child” you thought. And living with him, day by day, you met the man with a boy in his cold heart, that melted little by little with your smile and warmth.
Lost in thoughts, you did remind of that day you arrived home with cat ears. Something different, but wasn’t your intention, you didn’t even knew that Michael would be so obsessed with that. The way he stared at you, marked your skin that night… You could feel goosebumps run through your skin just with the memories, biting your lip when an idea pops into your mind.
You wanted to feel the man that way again, so animalistic. And that’s why you bought something special last week when Michael was out hunting again. After finishing cleaning your skin, you get up, letting the water run, drying the tub while you grab a towel to dry your body and hair. You walk towards your room again and to your wardrobe, opening it and searching deeply on it for something specific, finding the black medium box. Carrying it, you put the box on your bed, opening and revealing the full cat costume you did buy and hide from your partner.
— Ah, yes. Let’s see what Michael thinks about it…
The towel fell on the floor from your body with you starting to wear the costume piece by piece and going to take a look at yourself in front of the mirror beside your bed. It did fit perfectly in your curves and a smile grows in your lips when you realize it. Wasn't everytime you had the courage to wear something like that, but Michael, with the passion he seemed to show you, the want to try and tease for him just growth.
— Now all I have to do is comb my hair and I'll be ready.
•••
The large and tall figure finds it's way to the house, entering and finding the same perfect silence of when he left. But something different did caught his eye. Her shoes and coat were in the entrance, finding out that his partner was finally home. He could feel his cold blood slowly heat at the discovery, lightly tightening his grip on the hilt of his bloody knife, starting to walk again, looking around for you.
No signal of you downstairs so you probably were in your bedroom, reading a book as usual or just taking a nap from your day at work.
He couldn't wait to see her. His obsession. So he immediately makes his way towards the stairs, climbing calmly and silently, even though he's anxious inside. Michael was a patient man, he knew exactly the perfect time to strike even after long days of stalking his potential victim. With his silent footsteps, and long breaths, he finally finds the door to the main bedroom of the house, opening it slowly and running his gaze around the room. The clothes strewn across the floor catch his eye before she finally lifts her masked face to the bed, finally finding you there, lying invitingly and dressed in those clothes. She did it again.
— Oh, Michael! Welcome home.
You say with a smile on your face, crawling across the mattress only to sit on the edge and cross your legs.
— I missed you. Come here!
With your arms outstretched you call out to him, seeing his tall figure somewhat tense and his strong grip on the knife, as if he were holding back while he watched your body in those small pieces of clothing through the dark holes in the mask. Your skin burned from just that. They were so small that almost couldn’t cover that precious parts of you that should be covered, and for him only to see. And here were you two.
— Michael? What’s wrong?
You asked when he just stood there, watching and holding the bloody knife. He seemed to be thinking about something. To do something or just about how to start something. Usually, the heat of the hunt always guides him to grab your body wherever you were and claim you, just to dissipate all those feelings. That heat of being the predator, and you were just another prey. The most valuable prey, his reward.
And then, the figure finally moved, walking to you slowly and without any sign of rush, just analysing your tiny little body, in comparison to his, almost fully undressed for him. There. On that bed.
He finally reached you, starting your heavy breathing escaping from your lips and your breasts going up and down from that angle, analysing the beautiful and submissive look on your face. All his.
His left hand found it's way to your face, slowly caressing his big calloused fingers to your cheek as he continues to go down to your neck. You were so hypnotized by his presence and the figure of his mask that you didn't notice the strong grip on the back of your neck, making you gasp as he pulled your hair.
— M-Michael..? What? Y-You didn't like the costume?
You asked finally, wanted to know his mysterious thoughts for the first time, feeling your cheeks burn as he watched you before finally approaching his face from your, and slowly to your neck. You could listen to his loud heavy breath perfectly by the close distance now, and how he smelled your skin, making you shiver in pleasure.
He was analyzing you. He was curious about the motive you were dressed like that again. Michael couldn't understand what you wanted, but he hadn't disliked what you did bring to him. Quite the opposite. You were different from everything he has seen in his life. Anything you did amazed him in ways himself did not understand. But Michael knew one thing.
You were his.
You felt your body slammed against the mattress just by his strong grip as the man placed his knife on the edge, letting you there. With his calm movements he approached you again, covering your body with his now and grabbing both your wrists, squeezing them on either side of your body and pinning them there before pressing you down with his weight. Michael went back to burying his face in your neck, smelling the scent of your skin that only made him grunt behind the mask and press it lips there, as if kissing you.
— Oh, I see… You like it.
Michael backed away and tilted his head to the side, making your body pulse as you felt the volume on his pants against you meanwhile you tried to keep the eye contact. You whimpered as he hold both your hands together with his left one, over your head, as the right started to touch your skin.
He slowly slides his fingers between your breasts and around now, teasing you before using them to press your nipple marked on the costume, pulsing when you moaned his name. He knew your body like his own hand, just by watching your reactions all this time.
That's why he just kept going, feeling the curve of your waist and tightening his touch, grabbing your leg to open you more for himself. And the smell, ah, that sweet smell with the vision of your panties wet, showing how much you desired this without the need to say something.
— Y-Yes, I was waiting you…
You said, making him look at you again as you opened more your legs for him to watch you more and better. You loved this side of him. You knew it's was his aspect, how he used to act and know things about you that even you did not know, that always surprised you.
— Your girl needs you.
He has looked at your body one last time before squeezing your waist and slide his fingers to your panties, feeling the sensation of the fabric and the details there against his hand before pulling it. Surprised, you moan with the sensation of the fabric being torn against your sensitive skin, another consequence of the ecstasy.
Michael had that singular power against you. Always making your heart beat faster, curious of what he could do next or just the way he showed his sweet side (with the mysterious gifts he did bring to you), or what he was thinking meanwhile watching you or how your skin seemed to burn with his touches. His heavy breath and muscular body, his strong grip that could break you easily, but just used to keep you there, for him.
His fingers found your pulsing core, touching your sensitive and aroused point that always called his attention, grunting behind the mask as he could listen your sweet moans again, encouraging him to continue exploring your pussy with his big calloused fingers.
— Y-You… You, Michael. Your kitten wants you…
You begged with your panting voice, knowing that he liked when you did beg. And wasting no time, he used both hand to take your panties, seem you relax before grabbing your wrists and tying them together over your head with the fabric, keeping you pinned so he could unzip the jumpsuit. Exposing his muscular, scarred body to you, making you shiver at the very sight. You never got tired of seeing him reveal himself like that.
With his left hand at your waist, he finally took his massive cock in his right hand, showing you how he was for just smelling your perfume and seeing you dressed like that. A pure vision of redemption for him while he could barely contain himself from corrupting you.
His tip teased you as he approached your bodies again, wanting to listen and see your face closer as he slided his member to your wet entrance. And with a single trust, he invaded your warm and wet embrace, grunting as you moaned satisfied. Feeling every inch of him inside of you, filling you, and his pulsating veins.
You had no time to adjust to his size as he grabbed your leg and started moving his hips against you, slowly. You noticed when he closed his eyes by the light of the room, enjoying the sensations of being inside of you, making you tremble in pleasure and scream of surprise. He felt it, looking back at you instantaneously with the feeling, knowing you too damn well.
Michael seemed curious tonight, as the first time you wore something like that. His eyes couldn’t stop to explore your figure with that costume. The fluffy ears, your hair and the costume bra hugging your skin tightly, letting your breasts to jump a little with every single move of his. You looked stunning for him. Delicious. Sweet as you’ve always been.
And he just wanted more and more to consume you entirely.
He focused his slow, but intense, trusts to just feel you clenching around him as your cunt fought to adjust and embrace him as best as your body could so abruptly, feeling his massive member twitching inside of you. As you could hear a hum from him… as he did enjoy to see you like that. Fighting the feelings inside of you that felt so overwhelming with each trust.
His hips snapped against yours with his single force, causing those sweet and surprised moan that slipped so well from your lips. The force of his movements, his cock hitting your walls and giving delicious chills trough your skin. The sound of his hums and low groans behind the mask. Everything that he only gave to you. Things that no one ever heard or felt.
You were his obsession. The only thing that made his feral desires mix on his mind. The need. The hunger. To feel your skin again as his calloused hands tightened while holding you. The smell that only you had. A parfum that embraced his thoughts. His nerves. Your face, and how it seemed to change whenever he was around. Of course he knew. By stalking your house whenever he felt bored by not finding the right prey on his hunts.
You made it all. Alone.
Michael starting to feel more and more conscious about you. The much the touched and felt you, the more the voice inside of him felt louder and louder.
Mine. Consume. Take. More.
His member pulses against your tight and wet walls that felt more slick as his body was against yours. The warmth you felt embracing your body as his arms and hands got lost in your curves, exploring as he used to like to do whenever you were together like this. His left fingers slowly going up to feel the costume’s bra, pushing it more against your skin and sensitive nipple, playing with the sensation of the fabric and your body. Causing you to close your legs around him and vibrate, moaning his name softly. In need.
— Feels… Feels good…
You only wanted to tease the man. See what more reactions you could get from the mysterious and famous killer. And yet, here you was. Again. Submissive to him. In his hands.
The more reactions you gave to him, more his entire body pulses. And more he feels the need to push himself against your little cunt, picking up the speed and force he claimed you. Fucking you as much as his body needed.
His grip tightened against your breast, making you feel the light pleasurable pain in your skin. And inside of you, as well. His massive form that never felt tired, retreating only to quickly force his way back to you, causing more of the wet songs as waves of pleasure run trough you like a river. Your arms shivering.
There. When your legs freely hugs his waist and he starts to slam his force against the right spots and you tight even more around his massive cock. When you feel your brain melting and your moans get louder, you can listen how vocal Michael can get.
Grunts and rough moans escaping from the man above you. When his eyes drift along your body, entirely, with your warmth involving him. When you makes him feel sensitive. And makes him almost furious due it.
It’s when his left hand found your neck with anger, his harsh gaze meeting your lost eyes. Your lips parted with the heavy breathing and mixed with your moans and cries from the violent pleasure of him fucking you. With his animalistic side that always drives him. He needed more. He wanted more.
— M… Michael…
He grunts, huffing behind the latex mask as his body hovered your frame, getting his face close to yours only to listen. To absorve more of you, if that was possible. The warmth of your breasts against his chest, your body moving due his movements, almost making you jump on the mattress.
Your legs felt like jelly as tension and pleasure were mixed, the knot in your belly growing more and more. The feelings overwhelming you and making you loose yourself as tears escaped the corner of your eyes, influencing Michael to only tighten his grip around your neck even more.
You were so close. You felt so close to your high as much as he pushed and forced your tight walls open, as he hates you. And he knew it by how your body did tremble below his, with his mouth watering as a carnivore. In delight to make you feel so lost like this. By using you.
— P-Please… I’m… ‘M so close… I… can’t.
Your voice was a mess as yourself, rocking your hips against his body in a plead. Your breath harder and quick with Michael’s hand not letting go of you, feeling your heartbeats echoing in your ears with force. As you felt hotter. Michael only stared at you, letting go of your hand to slap your hip before holding it in a bruising way, to make you still for him to continue moving the way he wanted.
Quickly he pulled more of your body against his, your hips lifting a bit in the air only to encounter his harsh deep trusts every time he pushed himself. Again. And again. Reaching even deeper inside of you, making your walls clench against his massive rough cock, and vibrate almost desperately. Wanting to milk him.
You felt too weak against this man. You were nothing compared to his strength and stamina. You weren’t even able to think anymore, only surrendered by how well he could handle you. How well he could make you be a mess and loose yourself. Be weak. And that’s how your high exploded, the knot in your belly reaching its limit as a long moan escaped from your throat.
Michael let himself stop moving for those seconds only to feel you melting around him, his gaze locked in your face as it changed so much in pleasure. Your lips forming a “O”, your eyes squeezed shut as your back arched and your body shake. Almost not noticing how he was holding his own breath. You were like an magnet. In so many ways.
Before your body started to relax, Michael started to move again, easing his grip in your neck only to slowly reach your hair, pulling it against his massive hand. His hips moved by its own, guided by his feral need to have his release after so much of feeling you.
You moaned tired and surprised by how light you felt and how rough he still could use you, slowly moving your hands to his arms and feeling his muscles flexing. A loud huff of approval coming from him as you could see Michael closing his eyes. He seemed to be in a internal fight, lost in it and the madness pleasure and hunger he felt with you.
It was when he breath paused and a loud groan echoed from his throat, long enough to make you have goosebumps, biting your lower lip with the feeling as he trusted his hips against you one last time, with a bruising force that made you moan in surprise. Using your nails against his arms.
You felt his hot release almost exploding deep in your cunt, making your legs tremble in pleasure as you almost could feel yourself cumming again with the sensation. Being filled by Michael’s cum more and more, claimed by the infamous killer again.
His body relaxed and pressed against yours, almost laying against you as both catches the breath. Not long passes as Michael’s gets up to stare ate you, still breathless. He stared at you silently before looking up to your messy hair and the cat ears accessory in it. Slowly reaching it with his right hand, feeling the fabric and your hair together.
— So… You… liked it, mm?
A smile grow in your lips, letting your hands caress his arms lightly. You knew Michael almost never did you touch him, but you could abuse in those moments. Even now that he seemed to be analyzing you. Probably still in his high.
Nothing seemed to change the fact that only you affected him the way you did. Don’t mattered how many people he killed or how long he tried to stay away from you, forced by his own desires to stalk you trough your windows and finally enter your house. To meet you. Always with a bigger hunger than before. Because you were his. His need.
Hi! I want to apologize to everyone who did wait for it so long! Thank you for reading and enjoying the other ones I did write, as well! Please, feel free to contact me and I hope to write more in the future! Xoxo!🌹
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seren1tyhaze · 11 months
Text
sunflower dreams
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PAIRING: haechan x afab reader
WORD COUNT: 3k
SUMMARY: you have a new roommate who spends most of his time teasing you during the hours of games you play together online with your friends, but when it comes time to pick a new bed for your room, a sunflower shaped one seems like the perfect way to crack through his bratty exterior.
THANK YOU: A very belated happy birthday to our hyuckie and all my haechan smut lovers out there <3 Once I saw this photo on twitter I knew exactly what I would write for his birthday and I sincerely hope you all enjoy this brief drabble. @strwbrysunday as always, you know what I want to say to you. I'm so glad you enjoyed this <3
WARNINGS: explicit smut, angst, weed smoking, vaping, breakup flashbacks
PLAYLIST: Sunflower, Vol. 6 by Harry Styles - Stronger by NCT Dream - Sunflower (P.E.L) by Choi Yoojung - Sunflower by Vampire Weekend
--
“What the HELL is in here?!” your roommate nearly screeched as he struggled to drag the heavy object in front of him over the door frame of your apartment.
“It’s for my room, I just need help getting it in there and then you can go back to your lame solo queuing and getting your ass kicked by 12 year olds,” you shouted back over the large cardboard box, tucking an annoying strand of hair back into your ponytail.
Hyuck huffed and tossed his phone onto the couch so he could pull the box easier. You could see his forehead over the top of the box as you pushed, sweat gathering at his brow under long, black bangs.
To be fair, the box was way bigger than you had thought it would be. The listing had said “minimal assembly” which you thought meant it would somehow not be huge - but it turned out to be the opposite. You felt slightly guilty that you had had to get Hyuck to help you come drag the box upstairs and inside.
You smirked deviously, hoping Hyuck’s annoyance would soon be replaced with excitement when he found out what you had ordered for your bedroom. The two of you had recently become roommates after you had ended things with your toxic ex and his roommate had taken a new job in another city.
“You’re letting a girl move in?!” Mark had exclaimed over the steaming hot pot, nearly choking on the clear glass noodles dangling from his lips.
“Mark, chill,” Hyuck had replied, rolling his eyes before dipping a thin piece of beef into the spicy broth in between them. “She’s cool and you know she’s better than half our friends at Valo and on the court.”
Hyuck wasn’t wrong, Mark had watched you pull through as the match MVP quite a few times and was always first picked whenever they played pick up games on the weekends at the gym.
Similarly, Johnny had almost blown a gasket when you had shared the news in a final screaming match the day you were supposed to be meeting your landlord for final checks of your unit. It started with him complaining that you hadn’t cleaned the kitchen well enough before he started asking about where you had moved to.
“Lee Donghyuck? That little twerp?” he had spat at you, looking you up and down, making you suddenly self conscious in the thin tank and sweats you had thrown on for the early morning appointment.
“Leave him alone, Johnny, he’s very nice to let me sublet the extra room at his place. Plus it’s all the way across town which means you don’t have to run into me,” you had rolled your eyes, glancing down at your phone to check the time, wondering how long you were going to have to talk to this asshole.
“I always knew he was desperate to fuck you,” Johnny mumbled. Jealousy and hatred laced his tone, and before you could ask for clarification, your landlord appeared in the doorway.
The two of you finally managed to drag the huge box down the hallway and you immediately grabbed your box cutter, desperate to get to work and get rid of all the extra packaging.
“I’ll leave you to it?” he commented, his statement coming out more as a question as he watched you begin to tackle the large box.
“Yeah yeah, I promise, I’m good! I’ll text you if I need help,” you added, pulling out a copious amount of bubble wrap and tossing it behind him.
“Please don’t,” he quipped back, turning on his heel and closing his door behind him.
Soon you could hear him yelling at Jeno to stop running ahead, knowing they had to be back grinding Fortnite ranks together and failing miserably. The two of them were awful at working together in duos and the only time they were even remotely successful at clearing out teams quickly was when you and Jaemin played with them in squads.
You laughed lightly, rolling your eyes and finally placing your hand on a dark green, velvety pillow. Ripping the plastic bag open, you placed the pillow on your desk, beginning to unpack other pieces of soft, yellow cushions.
You had been scrolling through Pinterest one afternoon at work, hoping to find some ideas to decorate your new room. While you were able to take most of your furniture from your shared apartment with Johnny, the bed had been his, so you desperately needed to find a new one. You had been sleeping on a thin air mattress for the last couple weeks and Hyuck was tired of hearing you complain about your back.
The minute you had laid your eyes on the piece of furniture housed in the giant box you had just hauled in, you knew you had to get it. It matched your style perfectly and was also perfect in so many other ways.
The parts were awkward to fit together without a second set of hands, but it didn’t take too long to assemble. Once you stuffed all the packaging back into the box and pushed it back out into the living room, you stood sweaty but proud in front of your new, giant sunflower bed.
It was round, so it was hard to say if it was King sized, but it seemed pretty close based on the dimensions. The center was dark brown and fuzzy, with giant yellow petals spanning across the frame. You had already had your best friend crochet you some smaller sunflower and leaf decorative pillows that she had dropped off earlier that week. She had also shown up with a small panda plushie with a matching leaf on its head, giving you a long hug in your doorway and reminding you of how strong you were for finally dumping Johnny’s stupid ass.
Grabbing your towel, you headed to the bathroom to shower, letting the hot water cascade over your aching shoulders and scrubbing your body and hair quickly, desperate to take a nap in your new bed. When you passed Hyuck’s room again, you heard him still yelling at Jeno, but based on his call out it sounded like they were playing League and you decided against disturbing him. He would see your new furniture eventually and the growing pit in your stomach was preventing you from showing him anyways, nervous for his reaction.
Once back in your room, you dimmed the lights and put on your chill playlist. You lit some candles on your desk, followed by a blunt, letting the haze flow through the afternoon light streaming through your blinds. As soon as you had ordered the bed, you had found other matching decor for your room, hanging some lighted vines from your ceiling, cascading down the corner near the bed, blending into pale pink and green sheer curtains covering the window. A small mushroom side table held crystals, an ashtray, and your phone charger next to your bed. You smiled, looking around your new space that felt safe and unique to you.
During your relationship with Johnny, you felt like you had lost parts of yourself that had previously brought you so much confidence. He hated when you gamed with the guys, complaining that they were all flirting with you and in the midst of heated comms he would often unplug the router, blaming it on a power surge.
Whenever Jungwoo would come over for face masks and binging the latest season of Single’s Inferno, Johnny would watch with a chilly gaze from the kitchen, sharpening his chef’s knife before slicing up an apple. His possessiveness broke your relationship apart and while you still missed him, you would never miss that disease that plagued your time together.
After you slipped into a soft set of sleep shorts and a cropped tank, you finally let yourself fall onto the center of the large flower. The mattress was as comfortable as all the reviews had said, maybe even more. Taking a long, final drag of the blunt, you extinguished it in the ashtray and curled up into the pillows, smiling as you moved the small bear to your bedside table.
The soothing music, weed, and scent of your favorite candles made your eyes heavy, watching as the hazy smoke flowed through the rays of light across your ceiling, sun warming your bare legs. You don't know when exactly you drifted off to sleep but before you knew it you were stirred awake by a soft knock at the door.
“Hey…did you need any…” came Hyuck’s voice as the door swung open, barely giving you a chance to adjust your shirt that had ridden high up your side, exposing the underside of your breast. The waistband of your shorts had also ridden up your waist in your sleep, exposing much of your thigh.
“Oh…I uh, sorry I didn’t know you were sleeping,” he stuttered, moving to blow out the two candles on your desk, nervously avoiding eye contact with you.
“It’s okay, I should have said something but didn’t want to interrupt your game,” you replied groggily, lifting a heavy hand up to your eyes to rub at them.
“Wait…is that…”Hyuck trailed off, finally noticing the bed design. He looked adorable in the afternoon light, hood pulled up over messy hair, small sections of pink peeking through the black locks.
“A sunflower, yeah,” you replied with a smile, sitting up and leaning back on your arms, neglecting to adjust your shirt, chest pushed out at your new position. You dragged your legs up lightly, digging your feet into the fuzzy brown center of the bed and swaying your knees lighty as you spoke.
“A sunflower,” Hyuck repeated, unable to keep his eyes from dragging up and down your half naked body and damp hair. You looked ethereal in the golden hour sunlight and he let out a sigh before pulling his lime vape pen to his lips for a long drag. He kept eye contact with you through the cloud of smoke, a small smile breaking out onto his lips.
The bed was “perfect in many other ways” due to Hyuck’s gamer tag, SunnyFlowerz, one he had made years ago but had stuck. He had accumulated some sunflower related items over the years, including some stickers on his pc, a bright neon light that hung on the wall behind him and always visible on call, and the small crochet holder he kept his vape in. Some of the guys teased him about it but he always had new facts about the resilient flower to share, including how they track the sun and can self-pollinate.
You knew all these things because even before you had started dating Johnny you had always been intrigued by Donghyuck, the loud, whiny friend who sometimes had hot pink hair and laughed at all your stupid jokes when getting high in the park. You had thought about him late at night or as you touched yourself in the shower more times than you cared to admit. The first thing you had thought of when you saw the sunflower bed was how getting fucked by him in the middle of it would be the sweetest revenge you could ever imagine.
But now in the moment, with your legs inching open wider under Hyuck’s tense gaze, you knew it was more than revenge. You wanted to fall apart underneath him and the way he was looking at you right now confirmed he wanted it too.
Pulling one hand back over his shoulder, Hyuck pulled his hoodie off in a swift motion, dropping it to the floor as he stepped close to the bed, pausing at the edge as his shins touched the soft yellow petals.
“Is this for me?” he asked, dragging the back of his hand lightly against your bare calf.
“Maybe…” you trailed off, shivering slightly at his touch and pulling your chin up, silently begging him to come closer.
Dropping his knees to the bed one by one, he crawled between your legs, caging you in as he crowded over you, tight abs tensing as he leaned over you. His hair was dangling in his eyes, darkened with lust.
Your breath caught in your throat as he brought a hand up to your chest, playing with the thin strap of your shirt, pushing it down to expose your collar bone.
“A pretty flower, all opened up for me,” he murmured, dipping down to nip lightly at the skin of your neck, already on fire from the gentle touch of his fingers.
You felt your core tighten and breath pick up, desperate for him to touch you. Leaning your head back, you opened up more of your neck for him to mouth at, letting out a light moan as he dragged his lips up and down the column of your throat, laving his tongue over a particularly sensitive spot.
“I’ve wanted this for so long,” you can’t help yourself from mumbling and you swear you can feel him smile against your skin.
“You hid it so well, PandaBare,” he hissed out mockingly, using your own gamer tag, causing you to flush.
“Maybe I have something to show you too,” he added, standing up on his knees to pull at the waistband of his loose gray sweats.
You sat up further on your elbows, gulping and eyes widening. You watched as he first pulled down the sweats and then moved achingly slow to slip his thumbs under the band of his black boxers.
“If you’re about to try to impress me with your massive cock, Lee Donghyuck, you should remember that I used to date the Johnny Suh,” you replied, rolling your eyes at him, even as your heart picked up speed in your chest.
He merely chuckled, ripping down his boxers suddenly, half hard cock springing out and demanding your attention. 
Your eyes widened, not at the sight of his arousal, but at the black ink on his hip bone, suddenly visible to you for the first time. You had been to the pool with the boys a few times, but never seen this far below his shorts. 
“Is that…” you croaked out, equally as speechless as he had been in your doorway earlier.
“A panda bear? Yeah, it is,” he smiled, running his thumb over the small line art before moving over you again.
“Guess we both weren’t fake flirting on vc then…” you sighed as everything flooded into place in your mind.
Hyuck had been the first to offer you a place to stay and none of the boys had dared say anything in opposition. Even your best friend had encouraged you to move in.
He was always the first one to ream out a sexist team mate on voice chat when they complained about a female voice in the lobby. He always sent you a game off your wishlist on Steam for your birthday, saying he did it for everyone, even if you knew he hadn’t gotten Mark a gift in years. And if Johnny’s reaction had told you anything, it seemed like everyone had been picking up on the vibes for a long time.
“We’re both idiots,” he laughed out, dipping down to finally capture your lips with his, pressing warmly against your mouth.
Your hands flew immediately into his long hair as he yanked down your shorts, grinding his bare crotch against yours. You moaned loudly into his mouth at the feeling of him against your core, wrapping your legs around him tightly, drawing him closer to you.
“Wait,” you gasped into his mouth, reaching your hand over to fumble for your phone.
“Important Twitter update to post?” he asked, cocking a brow as he lifted up, toying with the edge of your top and letting his fingertips brush across your nipples that were peeking out under the neon green fabric.
“No, I have something better,” you said slyly, opening your camera and pulling Hyuck back down on top of you by the back of his neck. Holding the phone out, you snapped a slightly blurry photo that clearly showed Hyuck’s muscular and bare back with you spread out underneath him on the sunflower bed.
You tapped into a phone conversation you hadn’t messaged in in a month, sending off the photo without a caption before letting your phone fall back to the bed.
“Oh you’re evil,” Hyuck laughed maniacally, crashing his lips against yours and snaking a hand between your bodies to drag a finger through your dripping folds.
“Hold on, send him another one like this,” Hyuck murmured against your mouth, kissing down your throat before pulling his face between your thighs and smiling up at you.
You grabbed your phone eagerly, arching your back and tugging your bottom lip between your teeth in ecstasy as you snapped a few photos and videos. A loud moan escaped your throat, causing you to drop the phone and focus back on Hyuck and the long night that seemed to be ahead of you as he pulled his tongue slowly up to your clit, moaning into you in pleasure.
Yes, the sunflower bed was for Hyuck. But also the perfect fuck you to the man who had broken your heart and spent so much time gaslighting and manipulating you.
Across town, a loud string of curses rang out in a tiny apartment, causing Taeyong to rip his headphones off in concern and push open Johnny’s bedroom door. Without replying to his friend, Johnny glanced down at the small sunflower tattoo on his arm and threw his phone violently across the room, knowing the screen most likely shattered as it bounced off the wall.
His angry, jealous comments he had made when he last saw you had been right. Hyuck had always wanted to fuck you and while this was the first time, it looked like this wasn’t going to be the last.
501 notes · View notes
its-time-to-write · 11 months
Note
Ooh I just read the other part to the baby Jamie tartt story and it was amazing!! What about where it’s bea’s first soccer game and the team shows up and Jamie is just a proud dad or she’s 2 or 3 watching her dad play and cheering super loud and getting into it!?!
Heyyo! Mixed this with another ask. It was fun to write! Thank you!
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today’s a day like any other
Bea is two years old and five months, and she’s at the age where she is talking in sentences and can understand things that are happening around her. She makes little two-year-old jokes that only she understands, and her favorite person in the whole entire world is Sam Obisanya. 
You have a picture of her at her second birthday party, pointing at something while Sam holds her, both in matching Obisanya 24 kits. She can’t read, but she knows enough to tell that the markings are the same. She wears it every day it’s clean, and some days it’s not. You think it’s hilarious because Jamie has to cajole her into wearing her Baby Tartt 9 kit. 
Jamie is her second favorite person. She calls him “dada,” and shrieks whenever he comes home from training. Both of you are in your mid-twenties now, and you get stares whenever you’re out with her. The press is still the press, but they keep Bea’s face out of it when they speculate how long Jamie will keep “playing house,” or you will “put up with his antics.” They comment on young marriage and early divorce, and you and Jamie make the choice to laugh through it. 
He calls Ted about once a week for advice on marriage and fatherhood, and Rebecca stops by for lunch for you and Bea twice a week to give you advice on marriage and encourage you in motherhood. Bea adores her, almost as much as she does Sam. Almost. 
Rebecca had been hesitant at first to share, but once you said, “I’m pretty sure you know what red flags I should look for,” she laughed and went full steam ahead. 
All that to say, Bea’s favorite people are Sam, Jamie, and you, in exactly that order. (You could rank the rest of the team, but honestly it’s pretty close between some of them and they don’t need that type of competition.) 
Bea is two years old and five months, and she is at yet another football match, wearing her Obisanya 24 jersey and bouncing up and down in your arms. You’re three months along with your son name undisclosed so you can still hide it, but you’re wearing one of Jamie’s kits as opposed to your own. You put tiny lines of red and blue face paint on Bea and are standing up in Rebecca’s box, pointing things out to Bea. You point to a tiny Sam on the pitch, and Bea starts yelling, “Sam, Sam, Sam!” He can’t hear her, of course, but he’s looking around and smiling. The stadium is chanting, “Go, Sam Obisanya,” and Bea picks it up. You see Jamie nudge Sam and point up to where you’re sitting and Sam waves. Bea waves back, giggling.
“Bea, do you see Dada?” you ask. Jamie’s face is on the big screen, and she wiggles even harder. She’s practically vibrating in your arms. You think this might be the first game she actually understands enough to remember. You spend the first half narrating the game to her- “See, Sam has the ball. He’s trying to get it to Dada. Oh look, there he goes. Do you think he’s going to pass it?” 
Bea is watching intently as Jamie zips by player after player. You see him fake out Wolverhampton’s last line of defense and then the stadium erupts. He’s scored the first goal of the game. 
Bea is yelling her head off and bouncing again. Jamie looks up to where he knows you are an blow a kiss, which only makes Bea lose it more. 
On the drive home, all she can talk about is how “dada got a goal,” and “dada is my favorite.”
— 
Bea is seven years old and one month, and she is very adamant that she wants to play football. Her friends are all playing, plus she’s Beatrice fricken’ Tartt. Isn’t football in her blood?
You and Jamie tried to talk her out of it, not wanting her to feel like she had to. She insisted.
So there you are on a Saturday morning, seven months pregnant (yes, again thanks to goddamn Jamie Tartt) getting ready to cheer Bea on in her first match of the season. 
Her kit says Tartt 24 because of course it does. The teams are doing little stretches to get ready, so you smile and reach down to get a juice for four-year-old Theo (no, you don’t call him Ted) out of the cooler Jamie brought. 
“Eyy, it’s the Tartts!” says a voice. You look up to a grinning Dani. 
“Dani! What are you doing here?” you ask, grinning back.
“Couldn’t miss my favorite niece’s first match, could I? And I heard you had drinks,” he says, peering into the cooler. 
You laugh and someone else says, “let me know what’s in the cooler, bruv.” You turn, and there’s Isaac, Colin, and Michael. Dani waves to someone across the field, and it’s Sam, Jan Maas, Richard, and Bumbercatch. Roy’s Jeep screeches into the parking lot, and you see him get out followed by a flurry of pink. Of course it’s Keeley. 
“I hope I’m not late,” says another voice, and Bea runs up to say “Aunt Bex!” and does a flying leap at Rebecca. 
All of Bea’s uncles are here, minus Ted and Beard, to support her at her first game. 
You think you might cry.
Jamie, on the other hand, is looking extremely proud of himself. 
Bea is showing of her number 24, Sam is grinning proudly, Richard, Isaac, and Jan Maas are hyping her up, and Dani is doing arm curls with Theo hanging onto his wrist. 
Jamie slides his arm around your waist and presses a kiss to your neck. 
“Jamie Tartt,” you say, “did you invite all of them?”
Jamie grins. “I might’ve.“
“That might be the sweetest thing you’ve ever done. It might even make me not mad at you anymore.”
Jamie pulls away a little, indignant. “What’re you mad at me for? I haven’t done anything!”
You point to your stomach and say, “Oh really, then what do you call this?”
Jamie fixes you with a devilish grin. “Proof that I’m still fucking sexy?”
You giggle like a teenager. He is definitely still fucking sexy. 
The game is filled with wild cheers from Bea’s aunts and uncles, especially when she performs a header. 
“I taught her that,” Roy says to anyone who will listen. 
They swarm her on the field after the game’s over, uncaring if she’s won or lost. It doesn’t matter. They don’t all play for Richmond anymore, but they will always be a family. 
Bea is sixteen years old when she causually mentions a boy named Thomas in one of her classes. You’re all at the dinner table and Jamie doesn’t clock it, but you do. 
Jamie is only a few years out from retirement. He’s around the age Roy was when Roy hurt his knee, and although he’s still tearing it up on the pitch, you both know his time is coming to a close. 
He’s a lot sadder than he lets on, but you remind him there’s more to life. Your family has become somewhat famous, even in the States, so he’ll still have opportunities to do what he loves. Just not with the League. It’s become a bit of a routine, at this point, having the same conversation at the end of ever season. 
Just one more, Jamie promises, One more and then I’ll retire. You just hope he isn’t forced to by an injury.
But anyway, Bea’s got her eye on a boy and Jamie is completely oblivious until you bring it up that night while getting ready for bed. He’s flossing his teeth and your putting lotion on your face. 
“She fuckin’ what?” Spit goes flying. 
“Jamie, that’s disgusting. Please wipe that up.”
Jamie grabs a towel and swipes at the mirror. “How d’you know? It could just be a friend. She’s too young to be thinking like that!”
You smile. Bea’s a very thoughtful girl. You’re pretty sure she timed the name-drop with great precision and care, testing the waters. 
She’s a lot like you. 
“Babe, I just know. And, not sure if you’ve noticed, but she’s not seven anymore. Plus, I’ve seen Thomas around. He’s a very bright, respectful young man. Bea’s got a good head on her shoulders.”
Jamie pales, not listening to a thing you said. He grabs your hand. “Babe. Babe. Think about what I was like. Fucking hell, I was an absolute wanker. Oh fuck. This is not fucking good.”
He’s spiraling. He’s spiraling about his oldest daughter and it’s adorable. His hair is all crazy from running his hands through it, and his eyes are wild. You know what Jamie was like. You met a toned-down version of him, and you’re pretty sure he wouldn’t want Bea even near someone like that. You’ve heard the stories of how he was before. 
“Jaim,” you say, “it’s going to be ok. Seriously.”
“You don’t understand,” he says, hands now on your face. “I was an absolute shithead. I was rude and a fucking dick. I didn’t treat women well, or anyone well, and I don’t want Bea with someone like me.”
You understand. You’re not minimizing his concerns or apathetic about Bea, it’s just that you know the daughter you’ve raised, and you tell Jamie as much. “I know this is new for us, but she’s wonderful. And anyway, it’s not like she’s going to end up like me, twenty-two and knocked up.”
“We were married!” Jamie protests, “And twenty-two is like being a real adult!”
You raise an eyebrow. “We were barely married. And we were basically kids.” 
Jamie still looks distraught, so you place your hands on his wrists. 
“Darling, don’t worry. She’ll be ok. We made it this far being stupid, and she’s so much smarter than either of us.”
Jamie snorts, which you take as a victory. 
“And anyway,” you continue, “any boy that breaks her heart has like a million of her scary uncles to deal with. I promise, promise, promise she’ll be alright.”
Jamie smiles at that. “She does, doesn’t she?” He kisses the tip of your nose. “Suppose it’s a good thing you didn’t have any of those, otherwise we might not have gotten together.”
You laugh. “Alright, you sentimental dweeb. It’s past your bedtime.”
“Just one more kiss,” Jamie replies, and then his lips are on yours and you forget what you were even talking about, anyway. 
488 notes · View notes
luveline · 6 months
Note
hiii, can i have a blurb with emily, it can be literally about anything, i miss her and you write her impeccably ✨🥺
thank you ♡
Emily frowns at her computer screen. She's been having a hard time using the new system, and she can't stop batting at the feathered bangs that kiss her eyebrows, an agitated tic. 
She really doesn't like admitting that she can't do things. 
You rifle through your desk drawer. A few weeks ago you'd stopped for throat soothers on the way to work and found a packet of strawberry flavoured mentos at the gas station. I love the strawberry flavour, Emily'd said once, but I don't like any of the other ones. It feels like too much of a waste to buy the bag. 
You bought them. Chickened out on giving them to her. They're still sealed. 
"Hey," you say quietly, careful not to draw the attention of her deskmates. If Spencer or Derek were to witness this, they'd both laugh at you. Everyone knows how you feel except Emily, because isn't that always the way? "Emily?" 
She immediately turns her attention and concern to you, her eyes so dark and pretty it makes you feel sick. "Hey," she says, her voice dulcet, near melodic, "you okay?" 
"I got you these." 
You pass her the box of mentos without fuss. 
Her lips part in shock before melding to a smile that brags the pearl of her teeth. "Oh my god. Where did you find these?" Her gaze flickers between you and her newfound treasure. "How did you–" 
"I remembered, um, when we went to Austin, you," —you look down at her hands— "said you liked only the strawberry ones. So when I saw them I hoped you'd like them."
"Have you ever tried them?"
You rub at the inside of your wrist. "No." 
Emily's chair rattles as she stands, and mentos hit the sides of the box as she breaks the seal with her finger and tips a few into her palm. They're a light pink and smell strongly of strawberry, though there's a subtle coolness to them. 
"Here," she says. "I think you'll like them." 
You take it because she could offer you little tiny rocks and you'd eat them. You'd smile at her with cracked teeth. Emily doesn't realise how much power she has over you (remarkably) nor the effect of her closeness. You press the mento between your lips and she does the same, beaming this beatific, heart-racing smile at you as strawberry pops over your tongue. 
"They're good, right?" she asks, nearly smug. 
You nod quickly. You're not a reliable narrator and you'd say yes no matter what, but something about looking at her makes them sweet. 
"The– the new computer system, it's buggy, right?" you ask. When she looks at you dumbfounded, you correct, "Non responsive. Doesn't wanna listen." 
"Right?" She looks so relieved that it knocks you off kilter. 
"I think I figured out how to get my emails to stay in one place," you say, aiming for casual, barely making the mark. 
"Could you show me how to do that?" 
You sit in her desk chair at her computer and fix her emails to the desktop. The system isn't buggy, but you want her to feel capable. She is capable. Strawberry mentos over your shoulder, her hand resting on the back of her chair, fingertips brushing your back and silky dark hair skimming your shoulder, she's perfect. 
Spencer meets your eye from over the desktop monitors. He, of similar disposition, seems to be commending you on your demeanour with widened eyes and a small nod. 
Derek, on the other hand, taunts. "Is it hot in here?" he asks, fanning himself with his t-shirt. 
Emily leans over your shoulder to grab a case file from her desk, tossing it onto Derek's. "You can fan yourself with that once you've peer reviewed it for me." 
Spencer shakes his head in pity. 
"Hey, what's wrong?" Emily asks you, looking down. "Are you hot too? You look flustered." 
"I'm feeling it," Spencer says. 
"Huh. I must be cold blooded," she says under her breath, the exhale tickling your neck. "Weird." 
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promitto-amor · 6 months
Text
Should Something Happen
Pairing: Mark Hoffman x You
Summary: While working as Jigsaw Apprentices, Amanda spoils some quality bonding time between yourself and Hoffman.
Warnings: Cursing!
Might this actually be a little bit of fluff? I wanted to do something involving the main Jigsaw crew and a protective Hoffman. 👀
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Perhaps the only aspect of being an apprentice Mark enjoyed was the opportunity to work alongside you. Every trap crafted, every game played and every eventual death led Mark one step closer to his freedom. A life no longer in servitude for an impulsive act of vengeance. Mark had always struggled to quell his impulsiveness. It made him good in the field, Mark had earned a fair share of promotions for his quick actions, but his greatest mistake had cost him almost a year of servitude to Jigsaw himself. Until his sentence was up, until mark could be certain both John Kramer and his helper monkey were dead, he would carry out his part in the games with minimal complaint. In the meantime, he could find a steady contentment in watching the slackened, dream-like expression on your face as you fiddled with some shards of broken glass. 
“Careful,” Mark finds himself saying, “It’s not intended to spill your blood.”
You drop the shards back into the glass coffin and wander back to the workbench you’ve commandeered as a desk, “There’s so many traps,” You whine and if it were anyone else Mark would be grinding his teeth together. You flip your notebook onto a fresh page, “Who is this one for again?”
“I try not to make a habit of remembering names.” Mark answers, “Once you name something you get attached.”
You nod, “You’re right.” You pick up your pencil and hover it over the page. “Sadly I don’t have that luxury.” Mark keeps one eye on you as he cleans up his workbench, placing a set of screwdriver heads back in their assigned places. You think for a couple more minutes, your expression growing more pained till you drop the pencil again. “How can I write the tape for someone I know barely anything about?”
“Don’t ask me,” Mark says. “I’ve never been one for words.”
You give him a shrewd look, as if confirming his words. “You have special uses.” You say, jumping off your stool and heading over to a stack of boxes, freshly delivered.
“Oh yeah, like what?”
You send him a small smile, “Brawn, muscle, inside info…” 
“Is that all I am?” Mark can’t help the flicker of irritation he feels, “A meathead?”
“No,” You return to him, catching on you may have offended him. “You…” A couple teeth sink into your lip, “You’re the only one whose behaving.” 
Mark glances towards the open door, connecting the room to the rest of the Nerve Gas House, “Go on.”
You turn cagey, “Ever since Mexico…”
“Ah,” Mark nods, “Say no more.”
“I don’t like what I’ve been hearing.” You admit, “The aim of all this was never revenge.”
“Was it not?” Mark enjoys how your head lifts up to meet his gaze, “Was that not why you got mixed up in all this?”
You fix him with eyes of steel, “Maybe…” You admit, “But not anymore. Seems we’re cut from the same cloth, Detective.”
Mark likes how you say his title, pronouncing every syllable distinctly, “You don’t know me. Not really.”
“Maybe we should work on that?”
Something gives a leap inside Mark. Before he can answer you’re back at the delivery boxes and Amanda is thudding through the door. Her steel toe capped boots echo on the wood, little patches of dust springing up where she steps. She pauses on catching Mark stood in the centre of the room, “Admiring my work?” She asks, tilting her head.
“I thought John made this one?” You pipe up, before Mark can.
“He did.” Mark confirms, “That’s why this one has some refinement.”
“But it was my idea to add the…” Amanda’s points to the walls and then places her hands a couple inches apart. She presses them together slowly, applying pressure. The visual is enough for Mark to look away.
You busy yourself with the boxes again, “There’s nothing but syringes.” You take out one to show the two apprentices.
Mark tosses you a pair of gloves, “Put them on, they probably aren’t clean.”
You make a face and drop the syringe you’re holding, “Great. I’m going to need a check-up after this.”
“Be thankful you’re not the poor bastard diving in there.” Amanda smirks, heading over to inspect the coffin trap. “Is this one done yet?”
“Just needs a couple tests,” Mark says. “Any volunteers?”
“You first.” Amanda holds her arms up as if she’s a presenter, “Get in there, Detective.”
“What about you, babe?” Amanda slinks over to you and throws an arm around your shoulders, “The glass isn’t in yet, it’ll be like taking a good nap.”
“Stop trying to scare her.” Mark’s voice comes out with more bite than he expected. 
Amanda’s eyes flash, “Why you protective all of a sudden, Hoffman?”
Mark would never confess to the bitch before him, but he’s made a mistake and Amanda knows it. “We’re not testing anything without John here.”
Amanda makes a noncommittal noise.
“If John approves it, I’ll test it.” You offer, “I trust him.” Amanda jumps back into performance mode, “Aren’t they precious?”
“If you put this on.” You gingerly remove from another box a very familiar contraption and hold it out for Amanda to see. Mark grins behind Amanda’s back. He can just picture the colour draining from her face. Amanda doesn’t move as you walk past her with the Reverse Bear Trap in hand, “Very funny.” She calls, trying to reclaim some of her bravado.
“I thought so.” You counter, placing the device on the workbench.
Amanda’s scowl only becomes more prominent the longer she stares at her old trap, “Why is that here?” “Inventory.” You supply, “Or so I’m guessing.”
“Something old can always be re-used.” John wheels himself into the room. Wheelchair bound, he surveys the glass coffin standing pride of place in the middle of the room. “Is Laura’s test finished?”
“Almost,” Mark busies himself with checking over the gears situated behind the coffin.
“Laura,” You repeat, scribbling something on your pad. “I couldn’t for the life of me remember.”
John appears amused at your choice of words, “Writer’s block?” You look up as John wheels himself over to you. The Reverse Bear Trap is sat just a few feet away, Mark doesn’t like how close you are to something so barbaric. With you showing John your tape speeches and Mark still preoccupied with the gears, Amanda sulks in the middle. She makes her way over to Mark’s toolbox and grabs a wrench, right in John’s line of sight. Mark thinks it’s pathetic behaviour, how co-dependent she’s become since Mexico. He can see that your worries were justified. She makes her way over to the trap, but Mark has left her with nothing to do.
“There’s one glaring issue I see with this entire game,” You say in a low voice. You glance over to Amanda, “Won’t they all get suspicious if every one of them has a trap but her?”
“What did you say?”
“Amanda,” John cautions as his apprentice as she wheels round on the spot.
“I just worry that something will happen.” You say, closing your notebook and leaning against the workbench. “Are you really betting on all them failing and Daniel just being the last one left alive?”
“He doesn’t have a trap either.” Amanda points out, “I’m not the only one.”
“He isn’t being tested.” John states simply, “That is why you are there, Amanda. To protect him.” He turns back to you, “Nor is Amanda being tested.”
‘I still think we should put something in there.” You hold up your hands, “I think it’s foolish to leave it to chance.”
“Not if you can predict the outcome.”
Mark has heard it all before from John Kramer. He knows your attempts are futile, so he finishes up his work on the coffin and with nothing else to do, makes his way to the door. “I’m done for the night.”
“Thank you, Mark.” John says, “The game begins tomorrow. I presume you’ll be in position?”
“On the monitors.” He nods.
He’s been excused. Mark should go home and rest up for a long day ahead tomorrow. But he can’t quite bring himself to leave. John has resumed helping you with writing out the tape for the trap, but Mark doesn’t like how Amanda won’t leave the two of you alone. Her new behaviour has made him protective. Mark would have liked you to finish up at the same time as him. Perhaps he could offer to drop you home and they could work on getting to know each other.
“You want to put me in that.”
You, John and Mark all turn to Amanda, “What?” You ask.
Amanda nods, “That.” She points to the Reverse Bear Trap, “You want that to be my test. You want me to do it again?”
John glances imperceptibly to Mark. He swallows, so John shares their concern about his favourite apprentice. “Do you know how stupid you sound?” Mark cuts in, taking up what he hopes is a casual position beside you. “Everyone knows you already escaped it. 24/7 news coverage.” You’re still leaning against the workbench as Amanda walks around it, her eyes fixed on you as if you were prey. 
“It’s not a bad idea,” You taunt, “Some poetic justice”, but Amanda doesn’t find it clever. 
She shoves the Reverse Bear Trap toward you, “You don’t deserve to be here.” She hisses. Mark swears he can hear a ticking sound as you brace your arms on the table, “Of all the people to win, it had to be you didn’t it?” “Fair and square.” You return and Mark finds himself wondering for the umpteenth time just what your own game was. Before Amanda, before Mark himself joined Jigsaw, you were tested and won. His eyes fall on the scar on your neck, all that remains of your own brush with death.
“Use your brain,” You counter and your face is far too close to the trap as you glare back at Amanda Young. “You’d have to wake up in it, or someone would have to put you in it. I don’t think either of those are going to work in this game.”
“How about you wake up in it, you bitch?”
Mark’s hands snake around your middle and yank you back just as the trap rips open with a loud bang. The ferocity makes both you and Amanda jump. You would have fallen off your stool if not for Mark’s chest breaking your fall. He can feel the sharp breaths you take as the Reverse Bear Trap cools down and lies dormant once more.
“Amanda, take the trap and put it in my office.” John says. His apprentice turns wide, teary eyes on him, but John’s face is expressionless. “Now.”
She obeys instantly, taking the trap and striding out of the room.
Mark slides you back onto your stool, “Thank you.” You murmur, hand jumping instinctively to your neck.
“Are you alright?” John asks and you nod. Mark can see right through you, he could feel the tremors of your body against his. That was a close call. 
“She’s out of line, John.” Mark says, “I don’t know what the fuck happened over there, but it’s messed with her.”
“Amanda will be fine.” John insists, “She will play her part, so long as she isn’t provoked.” You nod, understanding your own fault but Mark refuses to admit to his own. “Now Detective, I believe we’re finished here. I will see you both tomorrow for the final preparations.”
Mark watches John wheel himself out. The moment he’s gone you rest your forearms on the workbench and place your head on them. You let out a deep sigh. Mark’s never been good at consoling anyone. It’s just not what he does. Not since Angelina…
He spots your fallen notebook and places it beside you, “Need a ride home?” “I don’t think I want to go home.” You say, your voice weak.
“You don’t want to stay here.” Mark says, “You can’t anyway. They all…arrive tomorrow.”
“How can you do that?” You lift up your head, “How can you willingly put people in here knowing they will probably die?” Mark meets your eyes, “I convince myself they deserve to suffer.”
“You don’t lie awake thinking about it?”
“No,” He’s being honest. “I think it’s one less shitty person out there.”
“Then you must think that about me.” You push some hair out of your eyes and wrap your arms around yourself. “I’m not…you know what I did-“
“And you know what I did.” Mark takes you by your forearms, “Do you think I’m a monster?”
Your eyes dart around the room and then land on the glass coffin, “Sometimes.” Mark allows himself time to digest that, it isn’t what he wanted to hear. But your hands come to rest on his own forearms and then you’re pressing your forehead into his chest, “But you make me feel safe. You help me.”
He didn’t expect to earn such close proximity again, this time deliberately. Mark pulls you closer, your hands slide up to rest on his chest and Mark curses his choice to remain in a jacket. Your warmth is tantalising as it seeps into him. Mark tucks you into his large frame and winds his arms back around you.
It feels good to be wanted.
With your face smushed into him, Mark rests his head atop yours. He doesn’t know what else he can do, so he lets his eyes close. “We can look out for each other.” He proposes, “Should something happen.”
“I’d like that.”
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onyourhyuck · 1 year
Text
Crimson Lace Part Two.| Mark Lee (M)
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Prologue: “I don’t like him around you.” + “You can’t tell me who to not hang around with. And secondly it sounds like you’re jealous.”
Summery: After you slept with Minhyun that night, Mark starts noticing the distance between you and him as you get closer to Minhyun. He grows jealous and becomes angry when you tell him the truth, making him confess sinful things you didn’t know about.
The Warnings: Love Triangle. Mark Lee Twin Tropes. Mark looks like he’s a complete loser in bed but he turns out to be amazing trope >>>. Fem Reader. Jealous and angry! Mark. Twin rivalry. Degrading. Extreme Mean Mark. Edging (so much edging) ice play (ice cubes mentioned a lot) fingering and eating out (Female receiving) begging, Mark has a massive darcyphillia kink. Everythings consensual. Cum play. Thigh riding. Public setting (they’re doing it in university class closet) Nipple play.
The Taglist: @yesohhsehun @chardonnayyyy @dearj43 @jwicore @nuttie-nv-blog @nctzcrime
Cover Credit: @dearj43 tysm<3
THE NOTE: sorry this took so long man. I was very busy. However part 2 is out now <3 enjoy
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It’s been two weeks since that night you’ve slept with Minhyun and let’s just say you’ve probably done it almost everywhere on campus but the dorms. You tried your best to control it. Try to make things go back to normal with the boy but all it took was one touch from him and things lead to a kiss and another more, it baffled you; with how much Minhyun had this control of you.
He knew how to tick the right boxes physically, sure, but mentally you were somewhere else. You were deeply thinking about Mark, his twin brother, wondering what he would think of you for fucking his brother behind his back.
You’re both scared to confess but you want to confess the truth to him. Unlike Minhyun who shown zero care if he’s railing his brothers crush, you were actually more disheartening about the situation more than anyone right now. You thought if this happened to you you’d be raging with fire in your eyes and demanding revenge. Though, you’re unsure how Mark will react. Mark is mostly a very patient guy. Only a few can tug his patience and test the waters, he’s respectful, friendly and never— and I tell you never gets angry. It’s like he’s perfect. A totally chill, laidback and nice guy.
But today it felt quite the opposite in your class. Writing away on your lined paper the front work essay to do in class, every student in the lecture room was doing the same thing. Trying their best to analysis their view point and perception of Oscar Wilde. You weren’t the biggest fan of Wilde but you do have to admit he does have classical literature. Something you could never forget no matter what. Your cheeks become hollow as you suck in your final breathe before pressing the pen down on the table, finishing the last structural paragraph needed to be done. Your conclusion was the best if you’d have to say so yourself.
Mark caught up with you leaving the class. You’re outside walking up the pathway to the girl dormitory. Something you recently signed up for and moved into. You don’t have a roommate yet, but that’s okay. Honestly you prefer the large dormitory to yourself. As Mark suddenly cuts off your pathway, with an expression you dearly avoided for so long till it finally contacts you.
“Y/n we need to talk.” Mark huffs, out of air.
You look up at the man with a raised eyebrow. “Mark I’m really busy with—“
“Fucking my brother?” He suddenly cuts your sentence off leaving your chest to rise, going tighter and tighter leaving little to no oxygen surpassing through your protected lungs. You felt your world stop and crash instantly like a car has ran into you in the five dimensional realm. You weren’t sure how he came up with that idea, but you knew he was correct. You were cornered by him. Questioned by Mark’s suspicion. For whatever evidence he has. You told yourself to come clean, telling yourself now’s the chance to fully address the issues you’ve done. The bad sins you’ve done behind Mark’s knowledge.
Your voice came out like a murmur. “I’m sorry Mark, I was planning to tell you.” Mark heard you say, though all he could look at was the images of you naked, possibly aroused and more, god, how badly he wished it was him who did those things to you. Minhyun took the pleasure of telling him every fucking detail; the way your moans were so disconnected because you cannot speak while fingered by him deep inside your cunt. He described the way your hair gets messy in the cutest way possible. Minhyun didn’t spare Mark the heinously bragging, what fun was that if he did not? He wants to see Mark rage. He wants to see Mark explode with infuriating frustration that he lost you. His dreams and feelings flat out rejected even though he didn’t confess to you.
All the boy could do was lean back and grab forward your wrist with those boba-like eyes, resembling a round onyx seed. A hint of honey brown flicks in those eyes when bright light slants on the wide iris’ it always makes you so mesmerised. It was only simple brown eyes but the way he looks at you through them, the way you see yourself through his eyes makes your tamed heart skipper quicker than anything in this world. Which heartbeat got faster and faster the more he pressed your wrist in his palm in a harshly given gripping hold, he did not spare you the weakness nor mercy. His voice taunts your skin like a shadowed mercenary ready to kill you while you’re unaware.
“A sorry cannot cut out for the way Minhyun purposely tortured me with the details of your beautiful, romantic night, Y/n.”
He sorely refused your apology leaving you to stand there in middle of nowhere outside the all girl’s dormitory awkwardly as the space minute by minute closes like a maze.
“I don’t like him around you.” Mark trailing with a softer growl containing jealousy that you won’t ever prescribe . It felt more than a normal amount of Jealousy.
It was envy. It was the need to be superior than the other. It was the over-loading amount of covetousness that the boy has for you, it felt like an addiction. You were his wrong addiction with no rehabilitation enough to provide Mark to save himself from your magnetic field.
Mark dislikes the way Minhyun claims he has you wrapped round his fingers yet he doesn’t know the way you have Mark chained to you spiritually. The way your bodies speak in such a hidden language from your conscious mind, gently paving your way, as your eyes tremble to the hold.
Your lips fell from this blank thin line to a sudden choke scoffing softly out your beautiful heart shape mouth, your minds were repeatedly thinking that. “You can’t tell me who to not hang around with.”
You pause staring blankly at him.
“And secondly it sounds like you’re jealous.” You strike at him with your indifferent tone. Mark was indeed bothered by the fact that you and Minhyun have gotten closer, have ended up with a physical relationship. He was jealous and he didn’t dare hide it in his voice or bodily language.
“I’m not fucking jealous I’m more than that.” The grip on your wrist tightens as he pulls your bodies inside the dormitory. “I’m wishing it was me with you that night doing those dirty things, Y/n. Call me jealous all you want but I had my eyes on you first. Minhyun could careless about you.” He adds snarking. “Don’t whore for him who can’t even memorise your Starbucks-go-to order and your favourite movie of all times.”
It’s the way he knows your future moves and the next step seeps to be inebriated, you were left alone staring at Mark deeply who’s chest risen up aloof. Your tongue was bitten down against your teeth harshly as you chew on your words, mentally planning your next dialogue. Just about when you open your mouth, “Mark this is ridiculous-” Mark cuts in right again, leaving you down and flat with your dimmed voice.
“Shut the fuck up.” Mark brushes as the palms creep on your face with their cold temperatures solitudes your warm heated face growing warmer by the way his lips crash on to yours giving them the quickest peck, before fully interrogating your mouth as his own home. His tongue slips in with a barge and a venom to strike. Teeth brush against your soft skin layering your lips to picker and become swollen. Your breathe was harsh and a gasp escaped you. Mark wasn’t trying to be gentle. In fact he was simply rough round the edges, like he had enough of you and your stupidity, that he will finally explode and show you just how much he wants you, how much he loves and wishes to be with you and only you. It’s nothing Minhyun could ever compare to, as your emotions were in the way, but Mark was so much physically intending to use you now.
“Mark- Mark please, slow down, we can’t be doing this…”
He was whispering such degrading terms you weren’t sure how to process. It started off with telling you to be quiet, in which you didn’t oblige to. Your voice came off with multi-stuttering in between the kiss. His fingertips gracefully graze down your jawline and reaching your neck where he grabs you firmly on it before pushing you inside the girl dormitory building. He lead you against a wall pushing you down on it. His voice darkens line an abyss wanting to suck you in and trap you there for eternity and more. “Don’t say anything. Let me indulge a little more before you leave.” He achingly told you, as if it hurt to say. Your reddish swollen lips turned red and you couldn’t believe but feel the way his drunk sad eyes longing on you,
You whisper softly. “I’m not going anywhere.” As Mark leans closer adjusting himself to close the gap between your chest and his. “Don’t get my hopes up.” Mark warns leaning down capturing a passionate and helpless kiss to you, but this time you’ve returned it with just as much eagerness he couldn’t compete with.
He knew you were never going to choose him. He knows Minhyun has stolen your heart and made it his own home before he could, and he only has himself to blame for losing you to his own twin brother. He was late. He was slow and too scared for ruining your friendship between you, Mark often stays up late at night thinking to himself that he should’ve made the first move. He should’ve confessed. He shouldn’t be a coward but he did become one at the end of the day. The moment Minhyun slept with you, he lost a part of himself. He lost all self-control.
You want to tell him you won’t ever leave him. That Minhyun and you sleeping was a simple mistake that you enjoyed and wish to keep on the low, that you’re not interested in dating his brother — you wish to tell him this but all you could focus solely on was the way he was kissing you as if it was his last dying wish. You weren’t sure how far it was going to go, but you felt yourself lose control and all together you grip on his neck finally adjusting to it all. You want Mark.
You came to a conclusion that you want Mark now. Your voice came off as a surprise, if anything, it came off as a dropped off bomb combusting a large sparking ember in his heartbroken heart. “Let’s take it to my dorm…” you said with no shame.
With a nod you were leading Mark inside your dorms welcoming the man in with your bodies aching desperately for each other. The door slams shut and Mark had all his strength pinning you down on your bed gasping in the rough kiss marking your swollen mouth. He was gaping at your body, squeezing his fingers on your clothes and under the fabric crewing on your empty skin practically screaming for him to dirty it, to use you, each time it reminds him of the way you look right now telling that this might be the first and very much the last time he shall ever have the chance of sleeping with you. He must savour the opportunity. Seize the opportunity of all opportunities. And he did.
He did do exactly that when the way he stripped you naked before he shown all his skin in front of you. Your breasts were kneading round like they were his personal items, shifting in your bodies flat on your belly. As his lips press on your shoulder and back. He squeezed at your hips, hoarsely whispering to you; “Lift your hips up for me darling.” It gnaws at your subconscious to hear this man, the man who’s always been your friend, respectful and kind to you was completely out of the picture now that he’s treating you with so much rough and rawly strengths, it purged you with sinful thoughts because it turns you to see him so… berserk. Your lower body arches to his demands and Mark reaches to squeeze your ass before spanking it.
Your voice comes through the pillows that Mark purposely buried your face in. You couldn’t see what he’s looking at but you felt his stare on you everywhere. “Good girl. Always so obedient for me aren’t you? Such a good girl.” He knows how to get you riled up with words. He doesn’t even need to touch you to get you going. The clothes on your body did not last a second on you it was a whole new situation with Mark it even surprised you how well he was good at undressing you from head to toe. The lower clothing came off like it was a slipper from your feet. His fingers weren’t the only thing good at taking clothes off. They were starting to please you down below occasionally slipping out your underwear to the side so his fingers can slide deep inside your wet cunt which was soaking for him.
Mark was pleasantly surprised by how wet you were and his thoughts tread on to his twin brother wondering if he was going through back getting you more wet than this. If this was how soaking you are for him than you must be a waterfall when this continues. He is determined to be better than his brother. Better for you and better for himself. If he lives down as the worse brother in bed he would rather have hell take him back and never come out. As your cunt slowly sinks breathing in his fingers he starts to finger you with a medium length pace causing every wall in you to tighten and loosen just round his shape of the fingers going in and out. The second finger slips in and Mark can hear you moan out more at this rate it was only furling him to continue and add the third finger; your voice becomes slightly louder when your hand covers your mouth to shut it down. He smirks seeing you become so self aware of how you sound so pretty and helpless like a little lamb in the open.
Your body shivers when the ice cube melts on your stomach as he kept pressing on it on the skin. Your lips pull away from his as he looks down at you darkly. “Is it cold?” He slants at you and you could only dumbly nod. Mark smirks. “Good, that’s the point.” His voice lingers as he lifts his hand with an ice cube pushing it to your lips.
You look up at the ice cube and then at him again. “Suck on it.” He orders from you and you couldn’t resist leaning into the cube sucking on it letting it melt on your tongue. He would watch fascinated by the heavenly sight.
Mark stares into you so deep in your eyes refusing to break the minimal eye contact even though he is fingering you so hard to the point your thighs are shaking and hugging side to side with how much he was ramming in you he never once broke away. You couldn’t help but moan as you watch him. He didn’t make you look away at all and if you did he would punish you with a spank to the thighs or to your ass it was unbelievably hot however it made you feel things you did not before. Mark whispers seeing you come close. “That’s right baby keep those eyes on me and come on my fingers Hm? I can feel you throbbing so much around my fingers.” He’d tell you describing every little detail about how your body was round him and you couldn’t believe how arousing it was. You ache jolting a little as you push against his fingers. Mark stops moving them as he saw the juice spewing out and at awe taking them out of you.
He’d lick the remaining juice out of you on his fingers clean off not leaving anything behind. He was staring at you as he did so and you relax there stunned by how he could look so good doing something so dirty? You couldn’t even figure out an answer. It was just a Mark Lee thing. But this wasn’t the end. Mark did not get enough of you and he pushed you down to the side to make you lay down where he forcefully re opens your legs splitting them apart like they were a piece of candy and as he did so his mouth comes to attack you with his tongue on your soaking cunt. He was eating you out and the juices on his tongue tasting so good. It was better than his imagination. It couldn’t compare to his lewdness thoughts. The real deal was the best part.
You weren’t sure how to deal with all this pleasure you couldn’t simple handle all of this but knowing it’s Mark you couldn’t bring the urge to push him away. The pleasure was just something you were hunting down all the time. In disbelief as how fast he was eating you out like he was going through a whole decade of starvation it made you also screaming into your hand. Mark wanted people to hear you however. He wanted you to get caught. He loved the idea of Minhyun coming round and walking in on you with him on your bed knowing it isn’t him. Knowing it’s not his brother. Knowing he got a taste of you it will surely piss his brother off too to see you look so beautiful with him in this rightful moment.
“I… I can’t take it anymore Mark— please— please please can i come?” Your voice was as clueless as a little wren walking around the lonely road. Mark looks up from your wet cunt covering in the saliva and your lubricant ghostly smirking above your clit. Mark’s mouth softly perks up kissing your clit and kissing down again. You shiver at his silent response.
He was taunting you slowly. “Hmm…you can take some more y/n. I know you can. If you can take my brother all night why can’t you take me Hm?” His head tilts so condescendingly at you and your eyes clench tight watering at the pleasure ending just to start again to edge her body into nonexistence. His mind wonders of to you laying down Mark suddenly shifts on the bed seeing how you were pleading for a release. How about he gives you one?
Mark sits on the edge and you look up seeing him pull away suddenly and act as if nothing has happened. He motions you with his finger pointing you up and you sit up slowly coming forward to him. His hand pats his thigh as his dark gaze shines straight at you. “Do you want to cum, Y/n?” His voice strikes you down but you nod in response. Mark hums trailing. “Then ride my thigh and make yourself cum on it.” Mark was making you do the work if you want it so badly.
You felt your skin shiver as you tried to wobble over to his thug pushing your wet pussy on the fabric on his clothes. He was barely dressed but the dry fabric pressing to your womanhood was enough to make you squelch and slowly thrusting your thighs on the area made you want to squeeze Mark’s shoulders down in a heavy way. Mark watches you struggle and he loves the view he was getting just seeing how much you were working for the release. The way your thighs and cunt were grinding on his leg was enough to make him aroused at the sight. You were whimpering all sorts of noises out of your mouth. It made his ears only long for more and more.
He laughs watching you shake already and you only just started riding his thigh. He wraps his hands round your hips pushing it further down to his thigh making you squirm and groan at the sensation of you harshly climaxing on his thigh now bursting out a long streak of water and tears going down your cheeks. “Atta’ girl. Look at you finishing on my thigh so quickly… and you crying…” He carries on darkly chuckling. He was laughing at you, but in such a twisted way you couldn’t help wonder where did the Mark you know was? “You’re such a pretty crier. How about you cry for me some more as i fuck the absolute shit out of you.”
And you did. You were bawling with each thrust in that his thick and wide cock buried deep in you as his body was quenching you underneath hardening and moulding your body into his own temple was just as amazing as the pleasure his cock provided to your womb, ramming and splattering in you widening your spine and back letting your body fall and break into pieces just so he could fix you up and move you like he wants you. He had you in so many different positions in just a few minutes he has you squirming begging for more and more and more; Mark can only give so much and he did give you his all where he had you screaming his name.
Chanting his name more like as if it were a mantra. Mark could only wish he can have this on repeat and recorded forever on. You sigh forward with your soft moans humming about into the bedsheets as Mark had you lift your hips up to go on all fours . Your head was buried deep on the bedsheets and pillows where you can barely breathe but the overwhelming pleasure has you slipping out. “P-Please fill me up Mark. I beg you. I bet you Mark.” You we’re pleading so nicely it was almost tempting. Mark smirks pulling your head up by grabbing handful of your hair lifting you this way so he can whisper into your ears.
One hand was roaming your stomach that you were arching in the all four position. “Yeah you want to be filled? You want me to put a baby inside you? Want me to show everyone how much of a whore you are?” You whimper closing your eyes shut as tears come out. He smirks watching them slip out. “That’s right cry some more. It will make me finish quicker.” He growls throwing your head back on the pillows ramming deep in you leaving your womb feeling a warm stretching sensation.
It continues until a liquid was speedily put inside you at a sudden rate leaving you stunned at how good it felt to have Mark finish deep within you letting a string of his come stay in you as he did for a while. He pants heavily as his hands press down on your back. He helps you turn around where he grabs your neck gently but kissing you so roughly speaking against your swollen lips. “Guess who was hearing us behind the door all this time…?”
You couldn’t believe your ears at first until Mark stares straight ahead of you and your eyes widen at the sight. Mark pulls the phone outta the pocket of his jeans scattering on the floor where you stare at the contact name ‘Lee Minhyun’ on the screen phone. Your gaze turns back to the door seeing a shadow outside the dorm door.
“You… called him over on your phone…”
Mark smirks back at you. “That’s right. This will show him who you truly love and belong to.”
He turns around pointing at the crimson lace that you wore before. “Oh by the way… you should wear this Crimson Lace more often. It suits you.”
NCT SMUT FICS.
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@onyourhyuck please refer from translating and copyrighting my work thank youu! Please reblog the fic and follow me for more updates it helps a girl out.
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