⤿ synopsis : after working your asses off, you and lion take a well needed vacation together. . .
⤿ contents : afab reader , lion is scared of flying :( , slight possessiveness (if you squint) , manhandling , rough p in v , breeding kink ! 18+ MDNI
w.c. 2.7k
⩩ author notes : i don't really know how i feel about this part, i don't hate it, however i think i'm running out of ideas. to whoever wanted a third part of this series, i hope it satisfies your craving! i'd be willing to make a fourth part (and most likely final part) if given ideas for it. let me know how i should close off this series!
┇ likes, reblogs, and comments are highly appreciated! ❤︎
the moment you and lion became official, it was nearly impossible to separate from him and vice versa. you were lion’s first ever girlfriend, and he was ready to make the most of it. you on the other hand had been in previous relationships before, most of them lacklustre or devoid of that burning passion you felt for lion. no one ever made you feel as wanted, as loved, or as special as lion did. he was unlike anyone you ever met. and with you by his side, lion’s performance continued to skyrocket with every gig he took up, advancing him further and further in the ranks. while it lined stan’s pockets, a lot of it was placed under the care of lion and unlike stan, he actually used his money right. he wasn’t reckless, didn’t buy copious amounts of drinks, food, and clothing. instead, he was using it to fund a secret trip he had been planning for the both of you. he only proposed the idea of course, lion didn’t have a single clue on how to book a hotel or a plane ride, he had never even been in an airport before. when lion had told you one night while relaxing on the couch, your head in his lap, you immediately felt a surge a giddyness rush through you at the thought of a vacation with lion. you remembered flying upright, meeting lions’ gaze with a shocked expression.
“wait, are you actually serious?” you scooted closer to lion, needing his full confirmation before you would climb all over him.
“yeah, i’ve got some money saved up. we just needa’ book it. we can go wherever you want, baby” lion says, chuckling at your reaction.
you wrapped your arms around lion’s neck and pulled yourself onto him, squealing into his neck excitedly. all he said was vacation and that was enough to make you act up. in truth, you two had been working really hard the last few months, so the idea of a getaway felt immensely liberating. you pulled your head away from the crook of lion’s neck and smacked your lips onto his cheek.
“eek! i’m so excited lion! aren’t you excited?!”
“i am that you are. i needa' be away from stan for a bit.”
“don’t think about stan, think about me. think about us, somewhere in another part of the world, maybe by an ocean, or we could be in a jungle, or a mountain” you started to drift off into your own imagination, listing every possible place you be in.
“mmm, i like that.”
“what were you thinking?”
you combed your fingers through lion’s fluffy hair as he thought about what he wanted to do.
“somewhere warm with an ocean. i wanna be somewhere we can relax, not a big city or anythin’” lion said, his words trailing off as he thought more about it, the idea of you and him laying down on warm sand, sun blazing, you in a bikini. he wiped that thought away for now.
“you’re absolutely right. any specific places?”
“you want me to pick?”
“i want to know where you’ve always wanted to go, since you’ve never…been anywhere.”
lion started thinking again, you let your fingers fall from his scalp to rest your hands behind him.
“any thoughts so far?”
“y’know, as kids, me and stan always used to see those ads for vacation trips in the bahamas. the ones where they let you get room service and all that. we would imagine ourselves there, chillin’ in the pool with some piña coladas. ‘course we never got to go-”
“you can go now!” you interrupted lion, excited at the idea of the bahamas. it was a pretty popular place, but you wanted to go wherever lion wanted.
“that’s where i was goin’ with my story.”
“aw, lion i love that idea!”
“i’m glad” he said earnestly, feeling at peace with the consensus.
you would spend the next few days looking over possible hotel options, many of them piquing your interest but always having certain factors such as being too expensive or being fully booked out. eventually, while in bed, lion at your side peering at the computer screen, you stumbled across a highly rated all inclusive with stellar reviews, and it was affordable! lion immediately told you he was into it, and you knew then that this had to be the one. you booked a basic room for one week, and booked the flights right after.
“oh my god, i can’t believe my man is taking me on a vacation…” you say to lion after turning the bedside light off, rolling closer to him and holding him tight.
“you deserve it.”
“we deserve it.”
you kissed lion’s forehead in the dark, and fell asleep at his side.
“it really should’ve been me comin’ on this trip, bro” stan said as he pulled out the luggage from the trunk of his car, not knowing if he was joking or not.
“there will be plenty of trips to come, stanley. wait your turn” you reply playfully knowing it would get on his nerves.
“easy for you to say, princess” stan muttered under his breath, pulling the lid of the trunk down.
lion stood on the curb, looking towards a plane in the distance taking off in the direction of god knows where. he hadn’t anticipated how nervous he was going to be, having never flown before. you kept reassuring him, telling him it wasn’t going to be as bad as he imagined it to be, and he believed you but he still couldn’t shake the anxiety off. his thoughts were interrupted by the sudden feeling of stan hugging him tightly.
“i’m gonna miss you so much, bro. love you, and stay safe, yeah? don’t fall for any of those tourist scams or whatever they got going on down there. and take lots of photos for me” stan said, pulling away and holding onto lion’s shoulders.
this was the first time lion was going to be away from his brother for a long period of time, and it was a little scary not having his guidance. however, lion trusted you way more. stan moved over to you and wrapped an arm around you, embracing you in a casual side hug.
“keep my brother safe, okay? and uh don’t forget to send me some selfies while you’re at the beach.”
“you’re gross.” you laugh, sensing his perverted undertone.
“only bein’ honest” he says shrugging. stan looks back at lion and catches him zoning out again.
“hey lion.”
lion’s focus snaps back to stan.
“you’re gonna be okay.”
lion nods, trying to look optimistic.
you and lion wave to stan as he drives out of the terminal. you help lion get through security, which you could tell he was intimidated by until he actually went through it and realized how simple it was. you made sure to look at everything he packed just to make sure he wouldn’t try to bring something that was against airport rules. when you were seated on the plane, you let lion take the window seat so he could see outside when flying. you could tell a small part of him was excited, a boyish smile painted on his face as he looked down at the earth below him. you didn’t know you could fall deeper in love with him at that moment.
the hotel was situated off the coast of the atlantic ocean, and it was the most beautiful sight lion had ever seen with his own two eyes other than the sight of you. lion was addicted to the window as you drove through the city towards the hotel, taking in the fact that he wasn’t in massachusetts anymore. you checked into the hotel and got your luggage taken up to the room, allowing you and lion to explore the hotel a little bit. the hotel was mostly open air, and had a massive pool area including a bar. the whole place was decorated with local plants which made it look 100x more expensive than it was. lion was enamoured by the view, too distracted to realize he was sweating from the insane heat.
“sooo, what do you think, baby?” you pull him close to you, satisfied by his reaction to everything.
“s’fucking magical. thanks for bringin’ me here” he smiled.
“anything for you” you kissed his cheek, feeling the light sheen of sweat coating his skin.
you and lion went up to the room, which had a king sized bed, a marbled bathroom with a stone shower and tub, and a balcony facing out to the ocean. lion immediately crashed onto the bed, the weight of the heat outside had made him sleepy. it was late afternoon by now, so you and lion decided to keep the activities light by chilling out by the pool. that night, you and lion got room service for dinner, something he always wished of having. you watched him chow down his food as he sat cross legged on the bed, clad in a fluffy robe. you snuck a photo of him without him noticing, just for the memory.
“you okay?” you said giggling at the mirror. you were stood in the bathroom fixing your hair when you noticed lion creeping near the door frame behind you, basically drooling at the sight of you in your bikini.
“don’t mind me..” he said, eyes still glued to your ass.
“oh i’m definitely minding you. why don’t you come a lil closer?” you say playfully.
lion walks into the bathroom and you turn around to look at him. now it was you doing the drooling. he stood there in his swim shorts, hair tousled from the humidity, and his muscles on full display for anyone who wanted to look. you visibly eyed him up.
“mmm, i don’t know if i can let you outside looking like that…”
“what do you mean? do i look stupid? should i change?” he takes your words seriously.
“no i mean, i don’t want other girls looking at you if you look that good. you’re only mine to look at.”
“‘could say the same f’you, that bikini isn’t coverin’ much” he says, noticing how thin the strings of the bikini were.
“just enough for the imagination” you wink at him before grabbing your beach bag off the sink counter.
you grab his bicep and you two leave the room. at the beach, you and lion laid out on the sand under a palm tree just reading and talking, and occasionally you went into the water to cool off. you were there for hours without even realizing it. when you came back from the beach, you and lion stopped at the bar to have something to eat, and then when back to the room to nap.
everyday went a little similar; you and lion would wake up, go down to the bar for breakfast, hang out by the pool or the ocean, eat lunch, explore the local surroundings outside of the hotel, and get dinner. it was the most relaxed lion had been in awhile, and he almost imagined himself and you living here, experiencing this reality everyday. although, he couldn’t deny the slight feeling of homesickness creeping up on him. you were more than halfway through the trip, sitting out on the balcony watching the waves crash over under the setting sun, when lion randomly blurted out something you hadn’t expected him to say.
“is it weird that i kinda miss boxing?”
you looked at him, slightly perplexed.
“really?”
“i dunno, i guess i’ve just been so inactive these past few days. back home, i did boxing almost everyday.”
“i mean, you could teach me how to box” you say giggling, and lion immediately understood the connotation.
“not fallin’ for that again” he shakes his head.
“oh c’mon, why don’t we go inside and have a proper match. i can’t promise you’ll win though, since you’ve been off your game.”
that’s how you ended up on the bed, laying on your side while lions’ thick arm put you in a chokehold, his cock plunging into you roughly. you had playfully wrestled for awhile, with lion tackling you to the bed. he let you get on top a few times, letting you throw pretend jabs at his face before he finally put you into the position you were in now.
“s-so good lion! oh fuckk!” you had encouraged lion to be a little rough with you, wanting it to feel like a workout in itself. you felt the head of cock ramming into your sweet spot with every thrust, driving your eyes backwards into your skull. you could’ve been drooling all over his forearm without even realizing.
“you like that, baby?”
“ye—s i do…i l-love it!” you say hiccuping.
lion was holding one of your legs up in his free arm, making sure he could reach a deeper angle inside of your warm cunt.
“m’not hurtin’ you, am i?” lion mumbled out of breath near your ear.
“n-no feels so good—oh god—don’t stop!” you whine out.
in reality, his grip over your neck was a little tight, but you liked that. it made you feel lighter and dizzier, which amplified the delicious feeling of his cock splitting you open. he was thrusting a little too fast, resulting in his cock accidentally coming out of you. he mumbled a small curse before you reached over between your sweating bodies and guiding him back inside you, but making sure to rub him between your slick covered folds first. he resumed his rough pace, and whimpered into your ear from the sudden tightness.
“c-cum inside me—please! ‘want it so bad..” you whined so loudly you thought the neighbouring residents could hear you. you begged lion to come inside you even though you were aware he was wearing a condom, but you preferred to pretend he wasn’t.
“yeah? you want me to knock you up? you’d probably like that.”
“yes please! lion—augh!”
you’d had sex with lion many times now, but you were sure this was the best time you had done it. it felt unrealistically good when he had you in this position, manhandling you like you were nothing to him. of course, lion didn’t see it that way since he was such a sweetheart, but ever so often you would catch yourself imagining him being more rough, in the same way he was in the ring with another man. that fire in his eyes, and the determination he had to win. right now, you felt closest to that version of lion, the version of him that could knock another human into the next day.
your orgasm was building up, and so was his. you let your fingers drift downwards towards your clit, only needing a small amount of friction to finish since lion was doing most of the work.
“m’so close, baby, don’t f-fucking stop!” you cried out softly, wanting to keep quiet even though you felt like screaming.
“almost there, i g-got you. cum for me.”
and you came. hard. hard enough to jerk your body forwards, your sweaty legs slipping out of lions grip for a moment. you tried to breathe through your orgasm, even with shallow breaths from the slight asphyxiation. lion came right after you, whimpering and groaning into the crook of your neck. of course, he didn’t actually come inside of you but that was to be expected. lion was very stubborn about not wearing condoms, every time you would ask him not to wear one, he would shoot you a weird look. however, you appreciated lion wanting to minimize danger. lion slid his arm out from under you and propped himself up, pulling the thin sheets over his naked lower half. you did the same.
“did that satisfy your boxing urge?” you giggle, running a hand over his sweat covered hair that stuck to his forehead.
“s’good enough.”
you kicked his leg under the sheet.
“ow, i’m kiddin’. of course it did, baby” lion said chuckling. he continued, “what was all that stuff you were sayin’ before…”
“mm nothing, just a fantasy..”
“you sure?”
“for now it is.”
“one day, i promise”
“promise what?”
“i’ll knock you up..” he looks away timidly, the thought of it too overwhelming. you just snort at him.
“don’t be shy about it, it’s okay.”
“‘just wanna make you happy.”
“you, more than anything, make me the happiest, okay? i love you” you caress his cheek, and leans into it.
Hi all! Back in February, I noticed that within the Jacko fandom in particular, a lot of hate gets thrown around at any authors writing fics that share similarities with other works. As someone who enjoys the Two Cake theory, it's upsetting to see people harass others over this for 'stealing ideas' when it isn't the case at all.
That said, in March, I put forward the idea for a bakery event of sorts, to celebrate the Two Cakes theory boosting fics and their similarities instead. Those taking part voted on the following prompt combination: Age Difference x Bakery AU x Anniversary.
Below are the fics everyone has written based on the prompt above. Enjoy the different cakes that the bakers have taken the time to make!
Disclaimer: Some fics contain explicit material; viewer discretion is advised.
Cakes: Fics with a word count above 750 words
Sweet Escape | @foxtufts
🍰 Synopsis: You discover your husband is cheating on you, and on your anniversary, no less. Luckily for you, Cook becomes the distraction that you didn't know you needed while working at your family-owned bakery.
Eggs | @madkingcrowley
🍰 Synopsis: Remmick told you that he hadn't eaten real food in decades if not centuries. You decided to treat him.
If It Feels Good, Then It Can't Be Bad | @sinfulteeth
🍰 Synopsis: Your one year anniversary of sleeping with your dad’s best friend just so happens to fall during the same time as you visiting home on spring break, with the house all to yourself, so why not celebrate together?
Burnt Sugar | @weavingduck
🍰 Synopsis: Patrick Sumner drifts into Hull about a month before the Volunteer sails for the Arctic - just long enough to form a routine. Across the apothecary on Clifford Street, he finds himself repeatedly drawn to a small bakery that refuses to feel temporary. He tells himself it is nothing, a distraction to pass the time, a habit he will abandon easily. But on the night before he is set to depart for the waters of the North Sea, he finally stops pretending he can leave unchanged without acknowledging this unintentional constant.
Something Sweet To Cover Rot | @lulaaaaaaw
🍰 Synopsis: Remmick has held you captive for a year. for you it’s a nightmare, for him it’s an anniversary of your love.
Night Out | @iceemochaa
🍰 Synopsis: TBC
Tier After Year | @spikedfearn
🍰 Synopsis: TBC
Cupcakes: Fics with a word count below 750 words
Nobody ended up baking a cupcake so you've got whole cakes to enjoy!
Thank you again to everyone who took part in this! I really appreciate the effort that you've all gone to. Happy International Cake Day, and please, enjoy the fics on offer, and show your support.
✦Summary | Your one year anniversary of sleeping with your dad’s best friend just so happens to fall during the same time as you visiting home on spring break, with the house all to yourself, so why not celebrate together?
✦ Word Count | 9k
✦ Warnings | MDNI 18+ it is an instant block if I find out, Smut, Heavy (LEGAL) Agegap, Implied knowing reader since childhood, DBF! Paddy Mayne (needs to be a warning himself), Food Play, Titty Sucking, Period Accurate Misogyny (60s/70s), Impact Play, Degradation, Biting, Begging, Name Calling, HEAVY Breeding Kink, Fingering, Sir Kink, Dumbification, Use of Nicknames (Lamb, Doll, Dolly, Love, Etc.)
✦ A/N | HELLO HELLO!! Isn’t it crazy that hasn’t been a half business year since I’ve posted??? This has probably been the quickest I’ve turned a fic out omg.. I wanna say thank you to @foxtufts for putting this amazing Two Cakes event together, as a writer in the fandom space I always feel a semblance of guilt when I inevitably write a similar concept to someone else, but this has taught me everyone has their own take on things no matter what!! And another thank you to all the other amazing writers for this event which can be found in the masterlist here. Some more special thanks to my beloved @madkingcrowley for betaing and letting me bounce some ideas off of, @iceemochaa for supplying me with so many Paddy pictures and being home to some of the HOTTEST Paddy ideas and @remmickstalker for letting me sound board my breeder Paddy Agenda. I hope you enjoy the fic and the event <33
Now Playing: Gibson Girl - Ethel Cain
One year, 365 days, an entire trip around the sun; that's how long you'd been sleeping with a married man. You couldn't have made it any easier on yourself by picking your run of the mill, hates his wife and hits on you at the bar while waving a 20 in his hand kind of married man. Why would you do that when instead you could have your very own Lieutenant Robert Blair Mayne wrapped around your manicured finger? A man who was your fathers best friend, who you'd see so frequently at family barbecues that there was always a seat saved for him, a man who your father sent in on more than one occasion to check for monsters behind the sparkly pink closet door of your childhood bedroom, the man who you were the flower girl at his own wedding under the excuse of "he didn't know any other kids".
Now you're taller, older, more glitz and glitter on a random Wednesday than more people would put on for prom. Your skin soft with the scent of vanilla and whatever designer fragrance you batted your lashes at Paddy for this month. All you needed to do was pout your glossed lips and anything you wanted was in your hands in a neatly wrapped box in a matter of moments.
Paddy had a very loose definition of marriage and surely sleeping with his former Captains daughter for the better half of a year wasn't included in those vows filled with half truths he performed with faux passion at the altar. War made men mad and Paddy had been the maddest one of all. That was the explanation everyone would give themselves to explain away why a man such as himself tends to spoil the glossy-lipped brat of his old Captain, who was half his age while he has a perfectly age appropriate wife waiting in a cold bed at home.
She had done nothing for him, even when he met her at that bar his former men had dragged him to all those nights ago. Paddy Mayne wasn't a man to be anchored down by anything, he knew what everyone expected. Come home a war hero, settle down with a pretty woman on his arm, have one son to carry on his name, one daughter to give away as she walks down the aisle, and die with them at his bedside. It's what was traditional, encouraged even, but the he was never one for tradition in the first place.
A year later and you're back home on spring break and coincidentally, your mother and father had left the house to you while they're on vacation. Your father always tended to treat you as if you were still a child, telling you not to have anyone over while they were gone, not even your friends from school, and you could go have the neighbors cook you dinner if you need help working the stove. The same neighbor whose sons been trying to get a peek at you changing through your window since primary school. A fact that had you rolling your eyes and stomp over to the windows to tug the curtains shut, cutting off the boys unfruitful attempt at the peep show he so desperately desired.
In all his feeble attempts of discipline, he had failed to forbid the one thing you were dead set on doing, the actual thing that would get you in trouble if caught. Inviting his friend over.
That was part of the reason you liked fucking a man twice your age. It made you feel like a woman, not some girl who still needed babysitting that your father is convinced you still are. Crouching down, you fish out the box that stored your dirtiest secrets, concealed by the frilly bed skirt that had yet to be changed into something that was"more suited" to the young adult you actually were. Tracing your fingers across the boxes edges, your heart involuntarily skips a beat as you open it, lifting out the latest letter Paddy had written you with the delicacy of something worth far more than just a sheet of paper.
Sitting on the bed, you find yourself smiling as you reread the words,the handwriting surprisingly soft and flowy for a man who knows the brutality of war so intimately, and no one knew that intimacy more than Paddy. It was far more suited for a man of words, a poet. You studied the words of this letter far harder than you had any of your textbooks this semester, almost as if you were trying to commit them to memory. Involuntary, you couldn't help but rub your thumb over the ending, your favorite part.
Love, Paddy
Love, you were sure that's what this was. The need to have him buried deep inside of you, how frequently you've caught yourself daydreaming about those rough hands, the hands that have taken lives, gripped around your jaw as he forced his fingers in your mouth. All while you were supposed to be doing your algebra homework.
You tuck the letter back into the box for safe keeping, placing a chaste kiss over his name before folding the paper back up neatly. Your lips were only meant for him, no matter the form he took whether that was in the flesh or through written word.
You wanted to do something sweet for him, it was your anniversary after all. He took care of you like a well kept secret, holding you close to his heart as he fueled your infatuation with hushed whispers and wistful promises. Swearing to take you away from everything, this town, your father, anything you wanted would be yours as his strokes hit deep in your core. Even the mere thought of that now had you crossing your legs to ease the gentle ache.
Striding into the kitchen, you can't help but wonder how your secret lover would treat you if you really were his wife, his lovely little bride getting to play house for a man more than double her age. Would he come up behind you, pressing your stomach into the counter as he growled that you really shouldn't be swinging your hips like that in those sweet little peignoir sets he'd frequently swipe his credit card to buy without even looking. All he ever needed was a shy pout and batted eyelashes, and he'd get to rip them off of you anyway. It really was a win win situation for the Paddy in your daydreams.
You find the house phone in its lone spot in the corner of the kitchen, beckoning you closer with your own mischievous thoughts, something you should've known better than to listen to. Hopping up on the chilled laminate, the receiver gets comfortable in between its nestled spot in between your ear and shoulder, punching in the number you shouldn't have known by heart with one neatly manicured finger.
The sharp ringing that greeted you caused your heart to swell, a mix of anxiousness and excitement had you feeling like a school girl, giddy with the newfound infatuation of her first schoolyard crush. Except this was something different, something darker that settled deeper into your core that was impossible to rid yourself of, no matter how many boys at your college you pretended to engage in their lust. It wasn't their fault really, no one could drill his hips into you like a man with so much to loose. Your heart pounded in your throat as the receiver picked up on the other end.
"Mayne Residence" That thick, accented voice shouldn't have worked you up as much as it did.
The same voice that barked orders at terrified men could also promise you anything you wanted. But here, it sounded bored, annoyed, tied down to the domestic dream that wasn't his.
You cradled the phone in your palm as you smile, trying not to let your smile show through your voice.
"Hello, is this Mr.Paddy Mayne?" stifling a giggle, you try your hardest to seem serious.
He knew immediately who was on the other end, hearing a sigh come through the phone, the one he'd let out before rolling his eyes at you and your antics.
"This is he, an' who is this?" That smirk is playing on his lips, a coy smile lined with mischief, a mischief that should've been long abandoned for a man his age.
"Oh you know~" you toyed with your answer, swinging your legs as you absentmindedly played with the hem of your dress, picking at loose threads that weren't there.
Your father would scold you if he were here for not only sitting on the counter, but wearing a dress so short. It was clearly improper for you to be wearing as a young, polite woman like yourself. Too bad he didn't know one of his closest friends picked it out himself, then proceeded to go down on you in his car to show just how much he liked how it rode up your thighs.
"…is your wife around Mr.Mayne? I'd hate to keep you preoccupied with little ol' me" your tone suddenly hushed in mock secrecy.
"No ma'am, she's off a' her sisters this week" its clear that he can hear the excitement brimming at the cusp of your voice as the cord twirls in your pointer finger like it's the only thing keeping you on this earth.
"so.. do you think she'd mind if her husband kept a pretty young thing company while shes alone in a big empty house right? maybe just for a night.. " theres a pause, feigning contemplation.
"maybe just for a night, what if something happens and I don't have a strong man to defend me?"
There's a chuckle echoing through the receiver, an amused laugh of a man entertaining something that should be beneath him.
"Do you really think I wouldn't remember what today is lamb?" There's an eyebrow raise clear in his tone. You're embarrassed to admit the gruffness in his voice makes you wetter than you'd like. The nickname..his faux mocking question, it makes you fiddle with the necklace sat between your breasts that he gave you for your first communion all those years ago, trying to think of anything else but his hand in your panties.
How could he forget? Not when you squealed so sweetly while you bled a creamy ring on his cock, blubbering and sniffling about how he was far too big to fit all the way, that it hurts, way more than you ever thought loosing your virginity would. Not when that was the beginning of what was now a years long relationship consisting of chalked up purchases and fake nights out at the bar rehashing the same old war stories, all to spend the night easing orgasm after orgasm out of your sweet cunt.
You took too long to answer, too caught up in the cloud of what those war torn fingers felt curled inside of you and you knew it. The only thing snapping you out of the hazy daydream the man was solely responsible for was a gruff chuckle, one that curled in your ears and chills down your spine. He sensed the effect he had on you, even through the phone.
"So then.. what time would you like me over love?" He questions in a new voice, one that edged on mischievously playful. A lilt in his tone what wasn't usually there.
You're finally snapped out of it, realizing that there was a question, an important question that had to be answered. Stammering yourself back to the present, a giggle forces itself out of your chest, running your hands down your skirt as you smooth imaginary wrinkles.
"A..ah um" An airy giggle rings into the receiver, a mix of fear hits you when he asks a question you honestly should have been expecting, why wouldn't he be asking what time to come over?
"Is uh.. is 6 okay?" your voice lightens at the end of your sentence, trying not to convey that on the other end of his telephone you've managed to knot the cord into a rats nest with all of the twirling in your panicked daydreams.
"Ah ah, you're stammering an' you know I don' like a stammer" He says in a way far too stern for what should have reasonably made you this wet. It gave you that glimpse you craved, that you yearned for, what all that military discipline taught him and what that meant for you.
"An' if I recall… I asked you correct? So tell me, when should the lady o' the house be expectin' me 'round?" There's a grin, you're sure of it. Your poet of a soldier carefully dictating his words and according actions as if he were playing chess.
There's a wobbly breath in, a feeble attempt to compose yourself while your clit throbbed to the rhythm of your heart.
"6 it is then." You say with false bravado and you could practically see his self satisfied crooked smile.
"Good girl, tha' wasn't so hard." He teases, thinking of all the things that will wait for you upon his arrival.
"See you soon lamb "
"I'll see you then sir~" the teasing coo hums from your lips as you hear the call disconnect on the other end. Your breath you weren't even aware that you had been holding escapes in an almost pleasant burn through your lungs. There was so much to do before 6.
You rocked on your heels as you gazed into the warm glow of the bakery's display case, seemingly filled with endless sugary goodness. If you had all the money in the world, you probably would spend it all here. Your eyes go over each treat, scanning as you try to think about what Paddy would like, what he'd praise you for choosing because you knew him so well.
You thanked god every step you that took that lead you to the bakery that your father wasn't here with you. He would've had a fit if he saw you walk into town unaccompanied without a man present and without a coat or shawl. You could practically hear his scolding, demanding to know where your shame was, how a woman shouldn't go anywhere alone, much less in just a dress. Too bad you were your own woman now, if only just for a week or two before their return.
"What're ye lookin' for love? Anythin' in particular I can help ya' with?" A woman asks in a pleasant tone, seeming to pop into existence out of thin air and snapping you out of your sugar induced trance.
"O…oh!" You smile politely, the words falling out of your mouth in a surprised stumble
"Well um..well.." contemplating for a moment, you try to recall if you've ever seen this woman before. If she had a mouth, and if that mouth would tell your business to the town and in return, your family.
"I'm celebrating an anniversary and I was wondering what was popular..nothing too sweet, I don't think hes much for sweet" Your face can't help but flush at the thought of him, giggling a bit to cover the awkwardness in the conversation
"Oh honey an anniversary!!" she says excitedly. The woman, who you soon learn is named Eleanore, reaches over grabs your hands that were idly resting on the curved glass, squeezing and filling them with warmth.
"And such a pretty little thing like you! Let me look at ya'!" She is far too excited than she should be for a strangers anniversary, but you guess that's why she got into the business of creating things to be enjoyed on special occasions, because she gets to enjoy them with you.
You somewhat reluctantly obliged when she gestures for you to back up from the counter, even doing a small twirl so she can fully see you, soft features and all. That seems to delight her as she claps her hands in overwhelming joy.
She eagerly waves you back, all grins as she pats your cheek in the way a tender mother would.
"Oh hes a lucky man love! Lucky lucky man to have a sweet little thing like you. An' he must treat you right! He treats you right yes?" It's easy to tell that shes rambler, talking even when she isn't fully sure anyone was still listening. Even now, shes walking around behind the counter, looking in the lit cases almost like she's scoping out the exact perfect dessert with every little description of Paddy you provide.
Little does she know that the man you're describing, shouldn't be yours to have in the slightest. Every little daydream she's having on your behalf of baking your future wedding cake is so morally wrong that she'd probably kick you out of her shop and make you a town pariah, an outcast gossiped about during ladies bridge games.
You zone back into the conversation when she finally starts listing desserts she thinks would suit your mystery man with whatever strange divination she utilized to make decisions about people's taste she's never once met, or at least you hope never met. You begin twisting and twirling your necklace in a fidgety, overthinking nervousness.
"Well then, if your mans serious, stubborn to the point of pure stupidity, which trust me lovey when I say you're hard pressed to find a man who isn't, but hes got a deep sense of art an' poetry to him like you say he is, then I think he's fit for our strawberry shortcake. Not too sweet but delightful all the same!" She gestures a hand to a cake, simple and classic, decorated with whipped cream and full strawberries. There's no doubt he'd like it, all you're left to wonder is how in the hell she's right.
"An' we do offer two sizes! Do ye' have any little ones running 'bout? Or just the two of ye for now?" Her smile indents into her rosy cheeks, but the flush of them is nothing to the warmth that blooms across your face and down your neck only to settle deep in your belly at the mention of children. You're unsure whether to feel horror at the possibility or just the littlest amount of joy at the mistaken domesticity of your relationship. There's a bit of shame that creeps in and settles where it should be when you admit that you wouldn't be upset if there were.
"It's uh.. it's just us!! The small one'll do us just fine" A coy smile plays on your lips as you toy with the only thing that tied you to him.
"Oh that's alright! The little ones will surely come soon enough for you two!" Eleanore teases playfully, grabbing the smaller cake out with a delicate hand.
"Now let me pack this up nice for ya' "
And she does, she wraps the cake up with a box and bow, far prettier than you ever could have done. She even throws in a couple of cookies for you, free of charge.
"Those are for you now ye' hear me, don't let him have any of those. Plus, men like a woman with a little meat on her bones! You make sure you eat up!" She scolds with a pat to your arm, bundling up all your goods in a neat little bag that makes you look like the sweetest little house wife.
With a shy smile and repetitive, sincere, thanks, the bell above the door cues your exit as the woman waves you bye through the window. You'd surely have to stop in again, hopefully with a ring on your hand and a bump firmly seated in your belly.
You tried desperately not to spiral about every little detail displayed in front of your kitchen counter. On your way home you'd decided on picking up Paddy's favorite poitín, even batting your eyes extra hard when the clerk at the counter raised an eyebrow on why such a pretty little thing was buying such harsh liquor, better fit for a man of his age or even older and not the nice wine he was expecting when you walked through the door.
It was ten to six, the clock feeling far too quick and far too slow in the same beat. You tried to make everything nice, that you weren't some ungrateful little brat that everyone else thought you were, that instead you were a woman, grown and mature, capable of a nice evening. You even put on his favorite dress, one that he bought you himself, short and playful that ended just shy of your knees. He told you that night after in his bed he liked the easy access, not too much fabric to bunch up and get in the way of his ravenous mouth. Just at the top of your breasts laid the necklace Paddy had given you for your first communion. When you were just a girl, a lamb unknowing of the worlds cruelty or the deep, interwoven love that it was capable of.
The sudden knock on the door sent a sharp shiver down your spine, heart rate climbing to the point of hearing it thrum in your ears. With a deep breath and light giggle of giddy excitement, you smooth your hands over your skirt and grab the handle to open the awaiting threshold to the man waiting on the other side.
There he stood, broad shoulders, scruff on his face and gray ever so slightly creeping onto his temples, perfect. You're unable to keep back your smile as you feel like a kid on Christmas. He offers you a crooked one back.
"Well..are ye' lettin' me in lamb? Or do ye' jus' wanna keep me out here waitin'?" He cocks an teasing eyebrow at you, nodding to your hand still firmly planted on your side of the doorknob, blocking him off from entering.
It takes you a moment to realize what he means, and when it sinks in you feel face flush in a brief flash of embarrassment, smiling a half apologetic grin at him as you replace your grip on the handle with his wrist, coaxing him inside by moving every so slightly to the side.
"I wouldn't want to keep you waiting, that'd just be impolite of me" Your tone is ever so lightly teasing as he allows you to pull him in with a gentle hand, shutting the door behind him.
His hands immediately find your waist, holding you loosely at first before his hold becomes firmer, pressing you against him with a little squeak of surprise escaping you, hands pressing against his shirt clad chest.
"I see yer wearin' my favorite.." making a show of looking you up and down, you feel his fingers drift down to cup the fat of your ass, his palms heavy on your flesh as his lips move to capture yours in a hungry kiss. All masculine and greed like a man starved in a desert wasteland.
"Now.. why don't we work on takin' it off" His kisses pause only to lean into your ear to whisper, so close you could practically feel the words flowing from his mouth.
You can't help but let out a soft moan at his ministrations, feeling those heavy hands knead at the flesh, the chill of his wedding band offering a welcome contrast to the burning desire.
Reluctantly, you separate from him, lips glossy and swollen even from that brief, heated kiss. You give him a coy little smile as you pat the center of his chest, giving a sweet little laugh along with it.
"Later.." You whisper mischievously, a little more out of breath than you'd care to admit.
"I didn't plan a surprise for you for it to go to waste." Satiating him with a brief peck on the lips, you relish in the smell of his cologne and the welcomed pain the scrape of his freshly shave stubble provides.
You're immediately met with a raised eyebrow from the man in front of you, his hands not moving from their precarious position, still offering the occasional pinch and squeeze as you speak.
"A surprise ya' say?" He pretends to ponder your words, a glint in his eye with a motivation you couldn't quite place.
"Now, what would make my little lamb wanna do somethin' like that?" He mock ponders, looking you square in the eyes with a wry smile. He gently starts swaying you both side to side, making you giggle.
"You know.. its been one year since we.." You let your statement trail off, letting your gaze shift from his face, down to his hips, then back up again do all the talking that was needed.
"Just wanted to make it special," A playful pout marks your lips as you lay your head down on his shoulder, placing a few chaste kisses on his neck.
"Ah.. an anniversary?" he teases, one hand moving up to the small of your back, rubbing smooth little circles.
"I guess that's reason enough for a surprise isn't it?" You're half convinced he just likes hearing himself talk before he captures your lips in a brief, but passionate kiss.
"Well then, show me." A smile grazes his lips, now both calloused hands circling and massaging your hips.
"Let's see what my girls been workin' so hard to plan" You can't quite tell if hes teasing for your efforts, but you're not really sure you mind.
Rocking on your heels, you carefully remove Paddy's hands from their purchase on your ass, instead grabbing his hands to lead him into the kitchen. You pause for a moment to cover his eyes with your free hand.
"Make sure your eyes are closed. No peeking and I mean it!" You scold, playfully scowling as you feel the man's eyes roll beneath your palm.
As you lead him, you can't help but feel giddy as you draw him closer to his prize, what in your mind hes worked so hard to deserve .
"'m old dolly, much longer in the dark 'n I'll probably end up snorin' in your lap," He chuckles, feeling you stop just shy of the counter. Your fingers brush against the bridge of his nose daintily, tickling as your nails leave his flesh. Oh how you longed for that nose to be buried deep in your cunt. Soon.
You gasp playfully as when you remove your hands, you see that his eyes were actually closed.
"You actually listened!" Giggling, you press a quick kiss against his cheek .
"Good boy," teasing, you tuck the bottle behind your back, moving Paddy right in front of the cake, which read in dainty, twirly writing.
'Happy Anniversary'
"Ready…open!!" His vision takes a moment to focus, adjusting to the sudden onslaught of light.
First he sees you, the pretty thing he'd had his eye on, angelic and heavenly as you stand there all sweetness, flushed and soft. You've known nothing of hardship, of struggles or pain. Honestly, sleeping with him is the most rebellious thing you could have possibly done, and he doesn't think either of you would change any of it.
Then, his eyes drift onto the counter, finding immediately what you had surprised him with. A light cake decorated with whipped cream and tart strawberries. He goes back and forth between looking at the dessert and looking at you, your smile, your nervously flushed face and how your fingers always seem to find his necklace. In all honesty it just reminded him of how young you were. No adult, bored to tears from the relentless beat down of life is buying any man in their life, a boyfriend or a husband, a cake, especially one this delicate looking.
In some weird way, it reminded him of you, sweet, playful, light and loving all wrapped up in a delightful presentation. He sees a slight flash of worry cross your eyes as you gaze into him, still concealing something not so subtly behind your back.
"Oh.. aren't ye just the sweetest little lamb," he coos, you can tell theres sincerity behind the playfulness, drawing you closer into his warm grip.
"Did ya' pick this out yourself?" There's a distinct want to his words, it relaxes you as you allow him to brush your cheek with his thumb.
You nod sweetly, unable to bite back a proud grin any longer.
"Mhm.. Thought you'd like it."
"I do.. an' what's this behind your back?" He looks you up and down, surveying you as if he were taking inventory. His hands find their way back around your hips, creeping around to your back. Your heart thumps in your ears, beats sounding like gunfire rather than an organ in your chest as he closes in around you, looping his arms around until they meet hands, your hands gripping the neck of a bottle.
You allow him to encase your hands in his, bringing forward the bottle of Poitín, his favorite brand, strong and not the cheapest. He shifts his gaze to look down at it in your shared grip, a satisfied hum leaving his lips as he looks back up to be met with a sheepish little smile.
"It's uh..its your favorite right?" You asked, head now swirling that somehow you had gotten it wrong and fucked this all up.
"Aye, an' how'd you know that?" There's a grin on his face even as his words feel more teasing than anything, taking the bottle from your hands to set it gently on the table. His hands return to their place on your hips, walking you slowly backwards until your back is flush with the countertop. In what reality was a few feet felt like miles, eons even.
"I.." It takes a considerable amount of focus to try to conjure the words needed in your brain, no thanks to Paddy, who’s now placing slow, light kisses right at your jaw, no doubt leading to what you'd hoped for all day.
"I've seen you drink it.. y'know when you're in the study, with dad," the air is impossibly thick with tension, charged. It feels as if you're deep underwater with the only possible way to get oxygen back is through Paddy.
His hand that’s not firmly planted around your waist, keeping the edge of the counter digging into your back into a delicious sting, began to trail up. It settles snugly with his thumb notched under your jaw, the other fingers wrapping loosely around the back of your neck. The position has you straighten your stance in his grip, your hands braced on the counter as his warm kisses go closer towards your ear.
"Such a sweet girl, doin' all this for an old man like me," He whispers, his hips subtly beginning to grind into your core, now realizing he has you pinned in a way you couldn't possibly get out of. Not that you'd want to anyway.
It's only then you realize just how firm his cock was, stirring in his pants the entire time you showed just how much you liked playing house.
"Why don't I show ye' just how appreciative I really am, consider it yer own anniversary present?" A hear stirs in your belly, sparking into a low, steady burn. He feels you slowly nod your head, only to tsk in your ear. Drawing his head back, the hand on your waist journeys down to your ass, giving you a sweet little rub before a firm smack comes down causing you to squeal and whine at the sting.
"Now I know I've taught ye better than that, use yer words like a big girl." There's something in his eyes you can't quite place, something between hunger and ferocity. His voice is steady, matter of fact. It causes the heat to pool lower into your cunt.
You give him a little pout, causing him to give you a look, half surprised, amused even in response.
"Y'dont have to be so mean about it Paddy," A playful little glare going his way, causing him to pinch the flushed, hot skin in response. You wince with a further whine.
"'m not bein' mean, jus' know ye know better is all." He pats your cheek with his palm almost condescendingly, only to then grab your chin with this thumb and middle finger, causing your glossy lips to pout further
"Try again." The words are simpler than you'd want, allowing no wiggle room to even try to twist this.
With a deep, somewhat shaky inhale that he takes as defeat, you look at him with the wettest eyes you could possibly muster, leaning the weight of your head into his palm.
"I would like you to show me..how much you appreciate me sir." The words stumbled off your tongue, feeling clunky as they fell out of your mouth. He should know that's what you meant, and it's stupid that he makes you say it.
You hear his warm hum of approval, rewarding your less than stellar performance with a soothing rub of the stinging flesh of your ass and a deep kiss, keeping you firmly planted between him and the hard laminate.
A small whimpers escapes your lips as his teeth bite, dominating the scenario in every sense of the word. He kisses like he has nothing to loose, like a man starved, a man who has everything most people could ever want but he still wants more. His tongue delves into your mouth with such precision you'd have thought he had a map.
Now both his hands wander down to your thighs as you shift, trying not to give away how soaked with slick they were. He squeezes, kneading as they travel farther down to the ditch of your knees. Your head swirled with the dual sensations, as he proceeded to lift, just for a moment as his mouth stayed firmly planted on yours.
With eyes shooting open in surprise, you feel the cold counter against your skin. A string of spit still connects your lips as he finally allows you to separate, chuckling at just how flushed in the face you are from one kiss, only to then leave you on the counter. A moment felt like years, only ceasing when he turned his back to reveal the cake in one hand and the bottle in another, setting it next to you before returning in between your thighs.
His hands pinch the hem of your dress, toying with it for a moment before lifting it clean off in one fluid motion, leaving you in soaked panties and a lacy bra he had bought weeks ago. He clicks his tongue, taking a moment to realize just how sweet you had looked, on display for him like a toy to play with.
"How sweet.." he teased, a doting coo evident in his voice, his thick fingers finding their way to the elastic of your panties, not quite touching where you wanted. So close but still so far. It was maddening.
You watched as his eyes glanced down to the cake, its soft cream pristine and unmoving, he looks back up at you.
"Have ye tried some yet lamb?" You shake your head, he let's that one slide, following the movement of his fingers as one dips into the cream.
"Open," and you obey, probably too quickly as your jaw falls open, only to be met with two fingers on your tongue.
Wrapping your lips around him, you suck on the digits, being sure to look up at him through wet lashes. You make a show of finishing everything he gives you, coming off with an audible, wet, pop when he draws back.
"'s good?"
You nod, humming in confirmation. In the midst of being about to speak, he reaches behind you and unhooks your bra swiftly, leaving your nipples to stiffen at the cool air. You shudder, feeling newly exposed while Paddy's stays fully dressed.
"Guess tha' means I should try some huh?" The words feel matter of fact, almost bland to the point of not matching his actions.
You whimper at the sudden chilled sensation of whipped cream on your breasts and down your sternum. You almost say something, a whine of feeling too cold, too sticky, until you feel two fingers prod at your entrance, curling with known precision.
A moan swirls out of your mouth, all shuddering and wobbly with pleasure. The sort of feeling that has your nails digging into his bicep and your back arching. Then you feel his mouth, warm and wet as he trails licks and sloppy kisses from your pantyline to your sternum, tracing the dessert with his tongue.
You practically see stars as the dual stimulation, his fingers curling into that gummy spot that he knows so well. Writhing in his grip, your breath quickens as the man's thumb rubs agonizingly slow circles on your clit. If you knew one thing, it was that Paddy loves to tease.
"Si..sir! 'm gonna-" You're met with a sharp sting directly on your cunt, thighs clamping so hard around his hand they're trembling. His rough, flat hand making contact directly with your clit, the metal ring adding a distinct throb that has you clenching around his fingers greedily.
"No stammerin'. Tell me yer gonna cum like a good slut or 'm stoppin'."
A sob rips through you as your shoulders shake. One arm dedicated to holding tightly onto him, as if it was the only thing keeping you on the ground, while the other trembled in attempts to keep you at least somewhat upright. He could be so cruel.
There's a shake to your voice, a sweet moan drawn from you as the wave crescendoing in your belly begins to peak, its crash imminent and approaching rapidly. Your grip tightens.
"Fuck..Paddy pluh.. please~" the tears cascading down your cheeks wasn't intentional, bubbling over your lashline brimming with need. Your chest goes in rapid successions of rising and falling, there was somehow not enough breath you could take but also far too much. The quick circles on your nerve felt sharp, pointed pricks stabbing deep into your core while the walls of your cunt fluttered in a desperate attempt to keep Paddy's fingers curled inside.
"I've mn..I've been really good." Your weeps were pathetic, soft and pleading.
"Aye, ya have, really good. Jus' need some remindin' don' you?" His mouth is over your breast, making sure theres not a part of your body he hasn't left untouched. He yearned to make your father question why his daughter was wearing a turtleneck in the heat of summer, why you were now walking with a limp and squirmed while seated at the dinner table.
He took your pitiful nod as good enough, he thinks that you've been strung along enough, pinching your peaked nipples between his fingers while he takes the other in his mouth.
"Go 'head, cum for me." With his mouth full, he gets to listen to you squeal and writhe, that much awaited fluid suddenly gushing over his fingers. His chuckles vibrate against your chest as he keeps up the steady rhythm of his fingers while while you come down, head leaned on his arm.
Your head was still foggy and swimming with post orgasmic bliss while he withdrew his fingers. and soaked in a combination of cum and slick. Eyeing your glazed over vision, he makes sure you're watching as he licks every trace of your release off his fingers pulling you closer to him as you grimace, a grin plastered on his face.
He kisses your head, moving sweat stuck hair out of your face.
"I think m'girl tastes a bit sweeter" He teases, rubbing the side of your arm
"Taste, then y'can tell me" Your head leans against his arm, shifting to look into those glinting eyes once again. Obediently, your mouth opens, even sticking your tongue out, only to be met with a half chuckle at your enthusiasm.
You feel his fingers enter your mouth again, but this time its different, tastes different. With his fingers he had also grabbed a half cut strawberry, originally left for decoration now swirling with the taste of your own pleasure, sweet and tart all at the same time. He shushes your initial whine, watching intently as your lips wrap around him. The berry softens to a pulp before swallowing, drawing his fingers out, leaving the saliva that connects your tongue to him as you attempting to catch your breath.
He leans in close, whispering
"Good isn't it? Nothin' sweeter than my doll's cunt."
Nodding in agreement, you hum, still trying to get back everything in your brain that leaked out of your pussy and onto Paddy's fingers. He rubs your thighs, deep, soothing circles leaving delicious aches as you watch him think. You feel your heat pulse, trying to draw something when there's nothing there, squirming on your spot on the counter.
"Y'need more don' you?" There's a knowing smirk attached to that statement, he knew you wouldn't be satiated with just fingers, especially when his cock is at your disposal.
"Go on, ask for it. Can' read yer mind now can I?"
A pout flashes on your lips, soft and glossy. He very well knows what you want as you sit nude and desperate for what is rightfully yours, you shouldn't have to ask. But you know what he had in store if you pinched a fit, the ache in your clit evident, a years worth of punishment at the front of your mind. You keep the pout, resting your head on his arm, fingers shakily toying with the buttons on his shirt, undoing the first couple.
"You.. You know what I want sir.." Your eyes shift up to his, mischievous shine in the dark irises as he listens for the magic words.
"I need your cock.. I've been really good.." In your attempt to sweeten the deal for what you know you'll already get, you begin to kiss at his collar, moving up to his neck and jaw with his stubble scraping you just right.
With a content sigh, he slides you off the counter, setting you down in wobbly legs. He watches you stand, shaking like a newborn fawn trying to take its first steps. He leans into your ear as you're trying to put all your focus into not falling.
"Go up to yer room an' wait. Do not touch." He emphasizes his words with a playful spank, not enough impact to cause any real pain. You yelp and jolt forward at the sudden force, sending a glare at him over your shoulder.
Cautiously, you take steps. One after another leading you to your old bedroom, sitting on the edge of the mattress as you take in your surroundings. With your brain finally coming back to you, there is absolutely no way two fully grown people could do anything on this bed, only really being able fitting you comfortably whenever you stay in here. You have no clue why he told you to go in here, you would've let him take you against the counter, or in the study, or the living room, not this too small bed you're afraid won't be able to support the weight of both you and the grown man plowing into you.
You don't get to continue thinking for very long, hearing the door begin to creak open, heavy steps on the other side finally coming in. Your back involuntarily straightens, gazing up at him as he walks in, bottle in hand as he sets it down on the dainty night table. He takes in the surroundings with a brief exhale out of his nose, chuckling .
"See ye' didn't change much." You flush, rolling your eyes embarrassed.
"Shut up.. I'm not here that of-" You don't even get the opportunity to finish your snide comment, his warm mouth over yours once again. Moaning into it, you feel his hands push you back, far back until your spine connects with the mattress. He gives you another brief smack on the ass, acknowledging that he heard that little attitude that would be gone soon enough.
The mattress creaks under the added weight of his knee on the bed, slotting in between your thighs. Even with that brief contact, your slick soaking his pant leg. Your own hands go from his face, holding him into the kiss down to his shoulders until they finally reach the buttons of his shirt, making quick work of them. Hes still surprisingly fit for a man of his age, you guessed the military had something to do with that, his stomach soft with the pudge of domesticity, but muscles firm from work.
You slide the shirt off his shoulders, hastily throwing it to the floor. He laughs at your eagerness, breaking the kiss only to bite and suck at base of your jaw, earning your soft, breathy moans.
Your fingers make their way to the waistband of his pants, trying and failing to pop the button to get them off, you need him inside of you, now. A small whine comes from you, frustrated. His warm breath is by your, whisper and full of teasing.
"You needy little slut, y'need help?" His tone is almost mocking, condescending and filled with faux concern.
Nodding, your hand runs up his neck to the side of his face.
"Off.. need them off. Need you inside sir please." you plead, eyed watering in horny desperation as you grind and wiggle your hips into his notched knee, anything for a fraction of friction
He shushes you, rubbing your waist down to your hips before taking your thighs into his grasp.
"Shh shh no cryin'. Yer a big girl right? Big girls don' cry jus' because they don' get what they want." There's a grin on his face, one that says just how much he loves toying with you and that little pout on your lips.
Suddenly, you're yanked closer to the edge of the bed. What in reality was probably a few inches felt like miles, dragged closer to the edge, closer to him and what you yearned for. You watch as he calmly unbuttons his trousers, pulling them and his boxers down and one smooth motion, his cock bobbing up onto his stomach. His tip angry and leaking beads of precum. You can't help but stare, your walls fluttering around nothing as they anxiously wait for him.
Both of his knees hit the bed, the mattress audibly protesting. Finally, hes in between your thighs, cock lined up in against your cunt, tip nudging your clit as he coats his length in your slick, much to your mix of whining protests and syrupy moans while he teases.
You're given practically no warning when he enters, bullying the thick length into your cunt. You squeal, writhing under him as you dig your nails into his shoulder, pleading for him to give you a moment, even just a second to to this new, much needed intrusion.
His hips still, if only just for a bit while he hikes your legs up, his body weight folding you in a way you didn't know was possible before slowly easing out of you. With only the tip, left in his hips collide with yours, squirming with a gasp and a whine.
The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes against the soft painted wall as Paddy gets into a rhythm, hips moving in and out as your moans staccato in time with his thrusts. You're sure you've never felt him this deep before, feeling impossibly full, overwhelming filled to the brim with his cock.
You writhe, moans punched out of you from his brutal thrusts. With your legs by your ears, you feel open, vulnerable, the mixture of slick and precum in between your legs offering a sticky slapping noise with his thrusts. With one of his hands at the base of your neck and the other holding your legs, he makes you look at him with you're teary eyes and gaping lips, pace unrelenting.
"D'ya like bein' fucked stupid by a man twice yer age? Ye like him fuckin' your cunt in yer childhood bed with his necklace hangin' off your tits?" He groans, breath ragged as his hips meet your ass again and again. He slams into that spongy spot deep in your core that has your toes curling and eyes rolling back.
"Ye just like bein' some old man's slut? A toy for me to use?" He holds your face, giving your cheek a couple light slaps.
"Focus lamb, I asked ya' a question," God he was so fuckin mean, bullying his cock so deep you're worried he'll hit your womb.
"I..ha I.." You're struggling to get the words out, so many sensations combining into one out of body experience. You feel as if you're looking down at him take you from above.
"I think youre jus' a mn ..dirty old man wh..who likes to be balls deep i..in his best friends daughter~" You snide, back mouthing him while you feel as if he's in your throat.
You gasp as he pinches your nipple hard, whining as tears brim your eyes from the cruel pain as he grins above you, somehow moving his hips quicker than they were before.
"Yer gonna sass the man deep in your cunt? 'n I thought I taught ye better." He slaps your clit once again as you whimper, tears finally falling from your face, he licks them off your cheek. He leans close to whisper, breath heated and tone a false calm.
"Maybe I jus' need to put a fuckin' baby in ya', maybe that'll finally teach ya' how to fuckin' behave." There's a firm slap on your ass that has you mewling, the pain from his hit and the pleasure from his brutal thrusts mixing into one.
You can't help but giggle, cockdrunk and dazed as your eyes glean with the hope of him fulfilling that promise. You hold onto his arms as you arch your back, his flesh feeling like an anchor. Your walls clench, contracting at his words.
It doesn't go without notice, of course it doesn't. His next thrusts are especially harsh.
"Ye want that? You wan' a baby with a married man? Is that right?" He's grinning as you can't help but squirm on his cock.
"Wan' me to send ye' back to tha' college with a growin' belly? Want everyone to whisper about how much of a slut ye are havin' a babe outta wedlock?"
His fingers reach down to spin circles on your clit, your walls clamp down as you mewl out sweet, syrupy moans, nodding your head enthusiastically. The word yes slurred out of your mouth so much it could probably just be considered one long sentence.
Your hands run through his hair as his pace picks up. You've never felt so lucky that you had the house to yourself as the bed slammed into the wall, creaking every time he moved his hips. You feel a mess, drool and tears on your face as your head begins to blank, you don't think you could remember the day if anyone asked.
"Oh an' your da.. he'd jus' have a fit." Paddy sneered, biting down on your neck so hard you'll have to find makeup to conceal the mark that'll be left in its wake.
"He'd probably throw ya' out in the street after findin' out what a whore he raised." You can't feel your legs, you can't feel anything other than the pleasure rushing to your core, your eyes roll back as your limbs feel useless, like jelly even as the heat in your belly grows hotter.
" mn.. paddy 'm.. 'm gonna -" You whimpered, high and breathy as you hear a crack, sharp and splintering as your body begins to slide, the only thing keeping you still is the weight behind the mans thrusts. The small bed giving into the weight of you both.
"Go on, ye' can do it lamb, soak my cock." And you do, soaking both of you as you cry out, holding onto his hands as you sob. Your release splashing up to your lower belly in a way that hadn't happened before.
His thrusts kept their pace as he grins, continuing cruel circles on your clit as you soak his hand, clamping down on his cock. He stills, letting out a low groan as he presses his chest to yours, feeling his warm cum flood your womb while his shallow thrusts ease you down from your high.
He presses a kiss to yours sweaty forehead, wiping makeup and tears off your face.
"You're good.. so so good.." You sniffle, holding onto him as if he were your only lifeline.
Reluctantly, he pulls out, watching as his cum begins to slowly leak from your entrance, only for him to scoop it back in with his fingers, being met with your whines and shudders of being too sensitive. He chuckles, giving you a quick kiss on the lips before setting you on his lap on the last stable part of the bed.
"I told him to get ya' a new bed.. yer a woman now after all.. need somethin' stronger." He chuckles and you dazedily nod, finally regaining a bit of feeling in your lower body.
Rubbing your back, he opens the bottle he set so carefully on the table beside you pouring some of the clear liquid in a glass you hadn't seen him grab.
"Bought me the nice one too didn't you love, how sweet." He teases before taking a swig, the liquor burning nicely as it goes down.
The room feels charged, alive but still so warm somehow as the both of you sit on a cracked bed. You feels docile now, soothing in his energy. You feel him lean over to kiss the side of your rested head, nothing could compare to how soft you feel in this moment, full and cared for by the man you loved. You hoped every anniversary would feel like this, leaning into him as you feel him rub your back soothingly.
𖦹 beautiful person award! once you are given this award, you're supposed to paste it in the asks of 8 people who deserve it. if you break the chain, nothing happens, but it's sweet to know someone thinks you're beautiful inside and out ⸜(｡ ˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝ 🧁
i love yall so so much <3333 especially you allison, you are one of the most beautiful people i know
synopsis : after having a shit week, cook needed something or someone to help relieve his stress . . .
c.w. canon ss7 cook (no charlie and emma) , afab reader , established relationship , dry humping , rough sex , p in v , cowgirl , doggystyle , unprotected sex , slight aftercare ! mdni
w.c. 2.1k
⩩ author notes : hiii so this is my first fic (that i've ever posted, not written) and i'm a little nervous about other people reading my work. i've been reading fan fics for years but never thought about being the one who wrote them! i'm honestly not even sure if this will work out long term but i really wanted to put this fic out there incase someone loves it. i've been in love with jack o'connell for 9 months now and have watched him in at least 14 things...
┇ likes, reblogs, and comments are highly appreciated! ❤︎
cook hated weeks like this. weeks that felt never ending, as if it was something inescapable. every passing day felt worse than the last and cook didn’t know how much longer until he would find himself in hot water with louie or some other dealer. he hated what he now did for a living, but what else was out there for him? after slaughtering the man who killed his best friend and taking the few years in prison, cook felt he didn't have much of a choice given his blank resume and lack of a higher education. before working under louie, cook worked a dead-end job at a petrol station which is where he ended up being recruited from. he was lured over the idea of a better salary, more flexibility, and the security that came with working with louie who was known at the time as manchester’s most untouchable drug lord.
cook was now 2 years deep into this job, and while the highs were high, the lows were very low with the worst thing being when someone broke into his car and stole drugs worth thousands of pounds. however, the best thing that happened to him was meeting you. he had met you during a drug run when one of your friends needed a little something before a party both of you were going to, and you only came along because you needed the ride and to keep your friend safe. you remember cook meeting your friend outside a run down flat and quickly exchanging the money and drugs to each other’s hands. you were honestly uncomfortable during this interaction so you stood a little bit behind your friend as they casually chatted each other up. cook titled his head to see past your friend and was eyeing you up, you weren’t even paying attention to him.
“you gonna introduce me to your friend there?”, he said as he continued to look at you, more so admiring the way you looked. he could have easily mistaken you as some model type girl, and he was into that. your friend quickly looks back at you, “oh my gosh, yeah that’s my fucking girl. we’ve been friends for about 3-ish years now? she doesn’t do drugs if that’s what you’re thinking, cook.” ‘cook?’ you thought, what kind of name is that? a coverup name?
now you and cook are making eye contact. under the dim light of the building, you can clearly see he isn’t as sketchy as you previously imagined. he was actually handsome. too handsome to just be selling drugs. you step forward as to not seem rude because even though he was a drug dealer, you felt inclined to be kind. “mm pleasure to meet ‘ya…?” he holds out his hand waiting for you to shake it. you finish his sentence with your name as you put your freshly manicured hand into his and give it a shy shake. his hand is cold from being outside, and you can feel how tense he is.
your friend wraps up their conversation with cook and begins walking back to the car that was still on and running. you only look back once to see cook still looking at you, and you give him a small smile as a way of saying bye. he nods his head up boyishly in return. charming, you thought.
ever since that tiny interaction, cook hadn’t thought about much else. he had found your instagram through your friend and immediately requested to follow. he knew there was a chance you would decline his request, and he would respect that but a small part of him would keep trying anyway. eventually, you did accept his request and he spent a whole night looking at every post, every story, every comment, and every follower on your account. he DM’ed you the next day, and you two immediately hit it off. it started casual at first with drinks at a pub and dinner dates until it became him coming over to your place and making you cum nonstop until sunrise. he hadn’t felt this kind of love before — not since effy. some days, cook would find himself in his freshly cleaned flat with dinner already made after coming home from a long day of dealing, he almost couldn’t believe how he was deserving of this after everything he’s done and been through. you were always there for cook no matter what, especially when he was having bad days.
cook was having a horrible week and you knew it, it was evident in his behaviour that he was overworked and overwhelmed from the amount of jobs louie was assigning him. you understood there wasn’t much to help ease the burden of his demanding job, so you did what you could. it was 10pm on a thursday evening when cook got home and was clearly stressed out from the day he just had. he dropped all his stuff at the door sluggishly and joined you on the couch near his TV quietly playing some random reality show you were watching to pass the time. you were already in your pyjamas and ready for bed.
“hi baby, i’ve been missing you”, you coo softly as you smoothed a hand through his cropped hair, and he leans into your touch without being aware of it. he holds the demeanour of a kicked puppy.
“m’sorry i’m late, some bloke didn’t ‘ave the money for the drugs he requested…and i’m behind on my weekly quota so louie had me-” you interrupted his rambling with a soft kiss to his lips, no longer wanting him to relive his shitty day. cook raises his hand to hold the back of your head, and you slowly start to climb over him so that you are now straddling him. as you begin to deepen the kiss, you grind yourself into his lap which earns a small groan from cook, moving his hands down to your hips. you make out with him for what feels like a whole minute before you pull away from his lips slightly, continuing to slowly rub yourself over his jeans.
“cook…i can tell you’re stressed and.. i want to be helpful to you….”, you mutter inbetween kisses. his eyes shift between your eyes and your lips. “what d’you mean?’, he says almost whispering. “i mean that… if you’re angry or upset, i can always help you.. release it..” cook holds your hips in place so that you stop moving. you continue, “i want to fuck the stress out of you..” cook looks away for a moment, genuinely contemplating if he should take you up on your offer but the ache he begins to feel beneath his boxers tell him his answer. he looks back at you and nods viciously while forcing his lips back onto yours, clearly ready to let go of all the stress he was carrying. you eventually pull away again to quickly slide off your pyjama pants and underwear, and remove cook’s belt and undo his jeans. he’s already hard as a rock and pre-cum was starting to dribble out. you situate yourself on his lap again and begin to slowly sink down onto his cock, moaning into the side of his neck.
“fuckin’ hell, babe” he grunts out as he grips the sides of your ass for dear life. you start bouncing on his cock as fast as you can with your hands holding his shoulders for balance, earning a few groans and whimpers from cook. “is that good baby? you like that?” you say almost incoherently as you begin to lose your breath from riding him so fast. cook nods his head immediately, “f-feels fuckin’ amazing, i love it” he mumbles as he watches your breasts bounce every time you slam down on his cock.
almost as quickly as you started, your hips began to stutter from exhaustion. “mm-please…switch now” you mumble out of breath, cook nods and gestures you to get up so he can stand. you lay back down on the couch with your ass arched up in the air and your face buried into the cushions as cook peels his shirt off and throws it behind him. he puts both knees down on the couch and pulls you closer to him, steadying himself with one hand on the back cushion and one hand gripping the fat of your ass. he aligns himself with your dripping pussy and pushes himself through your folds, bumping the head of his cock into your swollen clit. without wasting time, he buries his cock inside you and begins thrusting as if he’s using a fleshlight. this is what cook needed all along; a rough fuck that could erase all his thoughts and all the stresses of his job. you cry out from the suddenness of his thrusts as he digs his rough fingers into the soft skin of your hips, guaranteed to leave bruises later.
“c-cook..s’too much oh!” you whimper loudly, but your voice is barely audible over the sounds of skin slapping and the couch creaking. he curses brokenly under his breath, “i know babe, i know it’s a lot.. i fuckin’ need this. i need you creamin’ on me cock like a good girl” he manages to breathe out as his thrusts deepen. you start to feel yourself unravel, unable to control the whimpers and cries that leave your lips every few seconds. the way cook is fucking you is obscene — he was taking out all his pent up anger and stress of his day—his week—his life—onto your pussy and god did it feel euphoric, to be pounded as hard as you were. when you had told him you wanted to be helpful, you really meant it. he slowed down slightly as he slid one hand between the front of your legs towards your clit which was now throbbing and waiting to be touched. “oohh fuucckk!”, you moaned loudly into your elbow. you felt yourself tighten your grip on his cock as your eyes rolled back slightly. he began to rub your clit in tight circles while his thrusts got meaner and meaner by the second.
“m’gonna cum cook…please d-don’t stop it feels so good” you were getting closer and closer to your orgasm with every thrust, it was approaching like a freight train and you knew cook felt the same. “m’not—shit—stoppin’—not when you’re grippin’ me like tha’”. the way the couch creaked beneath you could’ve been heard throughout the entire hallway of his floor, it was unmistakable what the two of you were doing.
your orgasm hit soon after, and a blinding wave of pleasure climbed throughout your body — you don’t think you’ve ever came that hard in your life. a gush of slick coated cook’s pelvis and dripped to the cushion beneath you as cook’s orgasm followed suit. his breath hitches—letting out a whimper, a broken curse, and an unintelligible praise towards you. you felt him release his warm cum inside you, shooting out in waves that leave you feeling full of him. your knees slip on the cushion as your body gives out during the aftershocks, falling onto your front and desperately attempting to catch your breath while cook did the same.
using his forearm, he wiped the beading sweat at his forehead. if anyone saw him now they would’ve thought he just ran a marathon from the amount of sweat coating him and his cheeks dusted with a light pink hue. he watches you beneath him catching your breath as his cum slowly but surely begins to spill out of your wrecked pussy. he smoothes a hand over your trembling body and leans down to fill the spot next to you, you turn to face him. he brings his hand up to caress the back of your head and you kiss his lips gently, huffing out a small laugh at his exhausted appearance.
“was that alright? i hope i didn’t hurt you..” he mumbles earnestly, realizing he could’ve injured you in some way. “i’m okay baby, don’t worry. how are you feeling?” you reply honestly. “m’sound” he laughs a little as the stress that once occupied every nerve in his body now evaporated like smoke. cook knew this feeling would not last for very long as the week wasn’t over and done with just yet, but he let’s himself enjoy this moment with you.
you notice cook’s mind wandering off, and press another gentle kiss to his lips to ground him once more. “everything’s gonna be okay, cook. i’m always gonna be here for you whether your day is good or bad…you hear me? i love you” he stares into your eyes for a moment, not wanting to be overly vulnerable. “love you so much more” he whispers with a smile and kisses you once more.
SUM: You ask Lion to be your makeup test subject. He likes it a little too much
NOTE: This is a birthday present to @gothlula who asked me to write a cute smutty fic about Lion! I’ve never written a goth!reader so thank you to my moot who helped me understand it a bit more. I do love Goth makeup so I played heavily into my love for it! Thank you to my pookie @sinfulteeth ❤️for beta reading and adjusting this, we’re making out sloppy style with tongue.
WARNING: 18+mdni. handjob. lots of kissing. Lion wears makeup (cause he’s a pretty girl to me) pre-ejaculation. overstimulation. praise kink. Slight cum play. pet names galore. The ending came to me in a dream 🧎🏽♀️wc: 3.4k
It starts off with a small request.
Nothing major.
Nothing bad.
A small question with a soft smile and teasing touches against his left leg.
You waited until he got back home from practice, sore and tired from a long morning of punching bags and killing his self esteem. He took a shower, came back to the living room and melted into the couch. The history channel came on next, and then you were at his side, soothing him in comfort.
He was hyper focused on tonight’s episode, something about the life cycle of wild cats in the jungle— noting how nature was either cruel to come or kind to others. a life that he knew well.
While he was slowly unhatching himself, you figured it was the perfect time to ease him into the burning question of the night.
“Lion," you cooed, pawing at his knee like a cat wanting attention.
it took him a few seconds to fully register your touch. "Hm?" He said, barely looking over at you.
“Hey…you won’t mind ifi—“ your voice slowly left his mind until another push against his knee grabbed his attention again. “—You won't mind if I used you to practice my makeup?”
He didn’t respond, only sniffed.
“Lion,” you called again.
His eyes darted to you.
“You heard me?”
“Yeah….” He nodded, sending his attention back to the TV. But then he quickly looked back at you. “No— sorry, what?”
“I said, can I use you to practice my makeup?” You said again, running your hand higher and higher until his hand caught yours from riding too close up his thigh.
That caught his attention.
His eyes found yours, buzzing with small curiosity. “Like, what? Lipstick and glitter and all that shit?” He said, raising a brow.
“Mhmm, I’m trying to get better at doing makeup— eyeliner, lips and all that— and I need a test subject.”
He furrowed his brow. “So…I’m going to be— what? Like your Guinea pig?” He joked, rolling his neck around, trying to get rid of a bad ache he gained from his morning training.
“Mhmm, you don’t have do anything. Just sit there and look pretty.”
He could have said no.
He wasn’t worried about his image, couldn’t care less about it— He isn’t a bigot for Christ sakes. After all, it’s not unusual for a guy to wear makeup these days, but Lion wasn't the type to. A black eye and a bloody nose didn’t pair well with a full on baked makeup set paired with eyeshadow and completed with glitter.
“…You're going to do that?" He directed towards your makeup that was painted on your face.
It took you 2 hours to finally perfect your winged liner, another 2 hours to make sure every surface of your face was covered and cleared of imperfections and instead replaced with coats of various colors that ranged from light to dark.
It could be better, but you figured it wouldn’t be as hard if you had someone to practice on.
"Not fully, no. The basics for now, and when I get the hang of it, we can be twins," You grinned.
"Can I say no?"
"Not if you want your girlfriend to poison your food from here on out."
He assumed you were joking. Turning his attention back on the wildlife discovery channel, more invested in the Lion cub trying to find its way back to its pack. He went to bed with a clear mind, with you pressed up against him.
The next day, when he came back, tired and sore all over again, he found bags of items resting on the kitchen counter. He eyed it suspiciously, looking around the living space to see you were nowhere to be found.
As always, his consistent routine, he took a shower and came back to watch the history channel but found the bags put up and various items of different colored bottles and unusual tools were found resting on the counter, all laid out neatly. And you were standing in front, rocking back and forth on your feet, switching the placements around until it looked right.
“What’s all this?” He asked, coming up to stand by your side, the nosy one of the pair. He read over the labels, some in English, others in a foreign language he couldn’t quite name.
“Skin care products, some new makeup brushes— I also bought pimple patches—“
“Pimple patches?”
“Duh, for those hideous bumps on your face.”
His mouth went into a thin line.
“—And I also bought some makeup palettes that were on sale.”
He turned, deciding that whatever you were planning to do was none of his business but you quickly caught him by the edge of his shirt, pulling him backwards.
“Where are you going?” You questioned, “I’m not done.”
“I’m glad you went shopping, that's some amazing—“ he made a face, “—stuff, but the history channel is on—“
“Baby, this is all for you.”
He froze, his mouth turning into an awkward, stalled smile that almost made it seem like he was constipated.
“I have everything I need, all I was waiting for was my cute little guinea pig.”
You grabbed one of the chairs from under the table and pulled it out, pointing to the seat next. “Chop, chop.”
“…but—“
“Sit.”
He sat down immediately.
“First—“ you started, searching through the bottles and packages, “A clean face.” You pulled out a container, opening it with your fingernail and he watched as you pulled out wet wipes. “Then, we use moisturizer!”
You swiped the wipe over his face, scrunching your lips when you found dirt and sweat tracked along the wipes. After being in the gym all day, his face would probably thank you for clearing his pores.
You had him glued to the chair for hours, poking and prodding at his skin like he was a canvas and you were the painter— trying out different substances and ruffling through an assortment of techniques to get his skin just right. He was sniffing and jerking, complaining that he couldn’t breathe, moaning that his face was either going to fall off or it was burning him so bad he might die instantly.
"Stop being a baby." You rolled your eyes, smearing another clear liquid over his face with your hands.
You pulled at any ingrown facial hair, lined his eyebrows— gave him the perfect facial care that any respectable woman would want if they wanted to look pretty for the week. Only, Lion wasn’t a woman and he didn’t give a damn about his looks.
“There we go!” You concluded, surveying everything.
“S-So is that it? Are we done?” He questioned, feeling hope rush to his chest. After all that, he didn’t want to sit through that ever again.
“No silly, that’s just the base.” You tapped his nose playfully. “I can’t start doing makeup until I figure out how to get your face cleared.”
Hope crashed into a ditch.
Every day after practice, you were waiting for him with your set up and the chair of despair. Already ready to strap him down and get to work. Every complaint was met with you teasing him, calling him a toddler who was terrible at holding still. And if you weren’t holding him hostage to the chair, it was you worrying over his skin during the day that agitated him— mentioning the million ways he's supposed to take care of his face that was starting to drag out the week.
“Never touch your face throughout the day.”
“Did you know that you can get scars if you pop a pimple— always use a pimple patch.”
“Wash your face every night and in the morning. Cold water, never with hot water and make sure to use moisturizer!”
The men at the gym laughed at him because he often came in with black heart shaped pimple patches on his forehead and on the bridge of his nose. If he messed with it, you would know, then the process would restart and he didn’t want that to happen.
“So your girlfriend bosses you around and makes you do a skin care routine?” One of them flopped over, laughing like it hurt.
Lion gave him a puzzled look. “Yeah? What’s wrong with that?”
Regardless of his feelings, even if he didn’t particularly enjoy the routine, he didn’t mind that you were the one doing it.
“Your girlfriend acts like your fucking mom! Next, she's going to start changing your diaper!”
It’s one thing to make fun of him, but you?
That was entirely off limits.
Lion scrunched his nose, eyeing the man with his jaw set. “talk about my girlfriend again and I’ll crack your jaw open,” he said without remorse, uncaring how unkind he sounded.
They refused to mention it again after that.
One day, when he came home expecting another torture device ready for him, you had mixed up the items.
“Baby, you have upgraded to level two!”
That night, you had a new set of items waiting for him. Brushes and gadgets he couldn’t name. Big and small rectangular boxes that held odd colored squares and circles. And a few pencils that he mistook for colored pencils.
“Gonna draw on me?” He laughed.
“That’s the goal,” you said. “On your face and lips, maybe even on your neck— the possibilities are endless.”
He hoped this was a nightmare he could wake up from.
Eventually, after many weeks— many tests and trials— he learned to adapt. He found that he liked the makeup process better than the skincare routine. It felt much more relaxing in his opinion.
Slowly, it became a new routine he didn’t mind doing when he came home. He’ll shower, come into the living room, and you’ll be there with your makeup bag and items placed and ready to be used.
You started small at first. “Lip combos” you called it, applying lipgloss and penciled liners along his Cupids bow. Then, you moved on to eyeshadow. Debating on multicolored or solid looks to fit the night. Until finally, you were going over contouring, blush and highlighter to really kick in the look.
Like now, trapped underneath you, listening to you hum a song while you were drawing a clean cut eyeliner wing beside his eye. His hands were resting on your hips, while you were straddling him with your thighs locked against his waist.
He hated to admit that he didn’t mind it all anymore. The more you did his makeup, the more he started to like the attention on him.
You slowly applied a cut crease, tongue curling around your top lip in concentration. Your free hand came up, grabbing his chin to tilt his head for a better position to draw. “Baby, this looks good on you,” You complimented, smiling. “It makes your eyes pop.”
“Yeah?” He grinned.
“Mhmm, I’m almost jealous you pulled it off so well. But….It's missing something though." You leaned back slightly to get a nice long look at him. “I think a dark red gloss would compliment the look? Or…maybe clear?"
He turned his head, looking over at the spread of makeup lying on the table. "Which one do you have?"
You followed his attention. "A lot."
Steadily, You reached over to the spread and pushed aside the products you didn't want. "Purple…green—"
"Could we try black?"
Your eyes lit up.
"Lion?” You gasped dramatically, “Are you picking and choosing your own products now?" You teased, slapping his shoulder.
He swallowed, looking at you sheepishly. "Y-Yeah? Is that bad?"
"Makes me think you're starting to enjoy this more than me.”
When you found the black lipstick, you beamed with joy and leaned back into place to apply it over his lips.
"I don't mind…if thats what your trying to s—"
You squeezed his mouth, puckering his lips. "shhh, stop talking,” you said, giggling softly at the sight of him. He looked like a fish out of water.
Slowly, applied the lipstick to his lips, gliding it across and stopping when you deemed it perfect.
"Fuck me— that worked perfectly." You let go of his lips and whistled. “Lion, you're the prettiest person I’ve ever seen.”
"Can I see?"
You grabbed the mini mirror from the counter and handed it to him.
“Well?” You felt nervousness hit your stomach while watching him survey his face, checking himself out in the mirror. "What…What do you think?"
He frowned. "I don't know…I mean, it looks…okay?"
"Okay?” You raised a brow. “ …That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
“Are you sure? I mean, I can do it again? Or try out another color, please tell me it’s not shit—“
“Babe, I’m fucking with you.”
You slapped his shoulder hard, earning a light dramatic sob.
He chucked soon after. "Better than last time, I think you're getting the hang of it,” he complimented.
"Why, Thank you, sir.” You bowed your head. “That'll be 40 dollars."
He huffed. "Fuck out of here."
"Uh-uh. Can't let you leave until you pay up."
"What if I have a coupon?"
The way he said it, eyes peering up at you with his hands still at your hips, made your smile deepen. You soothed your hands over his shoulders, fingers lightly carding at the back of his hair.
“Hmm, sure. What is it?”
“I have a ‘Kiss me for 100% off’ card,” he said, humming lightly at the feeling of your fingers. “Today’s only offer, might I add.”
You couldn’t help the small giggle, finding his humor a bit cheesy. “Today’s only offer?” You questioned, “who said that??”
“says so on the back.”
“I guess you’ll have to use it then,” you grinned, leaning forward, lips inches away from his own.
The moment your lips connected with his, the cool feeling of the lipstick stuck, gloss transferring to your lips. A sudden thought popped into your head that this is what it must feel like the other way around.
He guided his hands up your hips, his large hands melting into your body. He moaned softly when your fingers latched itself into his hair, tugging lightly to command him to deepen the kiss.
You felt his hips jump when you nipped at his lip. A deep chuckle rumbling in your chest when he groaned and pulled away, the blush on his face amplified even more by his own.
“You… Y-You got lipstick on you now,” he pointed out, noting the smudges of black that dressed the corner of your lip.
“What a waste of a perfectly good set,” you sighed, scratching lightly at the nape of his neck. “I guess I have to redo it.”
“I guess you will,” he said.
And you were back to kissing him, smudging the gloss even more, running your hands up and down his shoulders and neck. Smoothly, you pulled away, the stain of lipstick more prominent on your face and you kissed his cheek, leaving a lipstick stain. You moved, kissing along his jaw until you got to his neck. Enjoying the way he kept sucking in his breath.
“I have another coupon,” you whispered, running your hands along his front, dropping lower and lower until you found the hem of pants. “I’m holding a special where—“ he groaned softly when you pulled the band, leaving room for your hand to cup him. “— I provide extra services for the first customer who comes.“
That was definitely a hidden innuendo there.
You smirked, already touching him bare, bringing his cock to life with a few tugs and kisses against his neck. The makeup rubbed off against your cheek, smudging the foundation but you didn’t care too much.
“Look at you,” you teased, jerking him slowly, watching as his eyes rolled and dropped. “ Free pampering and now this?”
“ F-Faster—“ he moaned, holding onto your hips like an anchor.
“Say please.” Your thumb came up to rub against the head of his cock, enjoying how he began to get hard the more you played with him.
His mouth dropped open but the secret words wouldn’t come out, nothing but light gasps and a string of curses.
“Come on baby, use your words.”
“P-Please— please—“ he groaned.
You obliged him, moving your hands faster, dragging your lips along his collar bone while leaving a trail of dark lightly colored stains of your lips on his skin.
With you on top of him, it was hard for him to truly move his hips, but it didn’t stop him from trying. Quick jerks and sways that were desperate and needy, his resolve breaking apart like glass.
“Awww, your face is ruined,” you pouted, knowing it was your fault that his makeup was melting away. “All my hard work down the drain.”
“A-Again—“ he gasped, moaning softly when you applied a tight squeeze to the base of his cock. “Y-You can do it again—“
“I thought you didn’t like me doing your makeup?”
“No—“ a deep rumble erupted from his chest, your hands jerking him faster. “N-No— I do.”
“You like me devoting my attention to you all day?”
He nodded quickly, obvious how much he liked it.
“maybe, after this—“ you kissed his cheek again, “You can wear it out— show the world how pretty you look?”
“Y-Yes—“ he didn’t let you finish your sentence, already agreeing with his full heart.
You found a rhythm that made his voice soar, high pitched, his fingers digging into your skin like the feeling of you jerking him would stop if he didn’t hold himself together.
But you wanted him to let go. Wanted him to come so hard that he’d cry and ruin more of his makeup.
“Come on pretty boy, almost there.”
You kissed him again, turning your head, hands still goading him to release.
“F-Fuck— close—“
“I know— I know,” you assured him, “You look so pretty like this, makeup ruined, cock leaking—”
“B-Baby—“
“You can keep going— be good for me. You can do that right?”
He nodded frantically, gasping.
“Let me redo this look tomorrow and I’ll give you another free charge— you’ll want that right?”
Oh, He wanted that desperately— hips moving erratically. “I-I want that— want that so bad.”
“I bet you do.”
The pre cum, mixed with your feverish hands moving, made it so easy for him to reach his peak. Coming much earlier than he intended. He came with a harsh groan, spilling over your hands in long, drawn out waves, whimpering soon after when you kept going— refusing to let up.
Embarrassed, he squeezed his hands around your waist to grab your attention, already overwhelmed. “W-Wait—“
“Little bit more, my services aren't through yet,” you cooed softly, grinning at the way his eyes watered. You wrapped both of your hands around him, pumping him in quick tugs, laughing lightly at the way his face twisted. “Thereee you go— get it all out.”
He whined. “I-I can’t—“
“Yes, you can,” you interrupted him. “Don’t want your discount to go to waste, right?”
A small hiccup left his mouth and it made you feral.
“Come on Lion, you're almost there—“ you pressed.
He whimpered harshly, eyes rolling back but quickly focusing soon after. Clearly losing it— trying so hard to fight the feeling that was making his stomach heat up. “O-Oh God—“ he gasped. “I’m trying— I-I’m trying baby—“
You kept going, moving your hands as fast as you could. His smudged bottom lip tucked tightly between his teeth, barely holding in the loud sobs and moans from slipping past.
“Awww, is this too much for you?” You teased, knowing damn well he was melting underneath you. “Got you all dolled up, I would hate to see it all wash away.”
Like you said the magic words to open the gate, the tears came down his face, his hands tight around your waist like he’ll cease to exist if he didn’t hold on. It dribbled down his cheeks, the trail leaving a long stream down his face while his cock cried between your hands.
The feeling sent him into psychosis, whining and keening, another wave of cum overflowing. And he sucked im a breath when your hands stopped to hold him through it, giggling softly at how cute he looked during all of this.
Face a perfect mess, lipstick smudged, dry tears caked against his cheeks, eyes watered— and the tightness around your hips was definitely sure to leave a mark for a few hours.
“What a good boy,” you praised, “and you left a reward just for me.” You brought your hand up, coated in white and an idea burned into your head.
“Should I fix your makeup?”
“Please,” he sighed softly.
“Let’s get that fixed up for you.”
Before he realized it, you were smearing cum over his lips, moving your fingers around like you were applying a fresh coating of lipstick and smiled. “Perfect, still as pretty as ever.” And you leaned forward, pressing your lips against his again.
✦ Summary | You can’t tell what draws him to you, what gets you so wound up. Maybe it’s that polite disposition, the one that you wouldn’t expect a boxer to have, or maybe it’s that glimmer of something more in his eyes, something far beyond fighting in a ring. All you know is you need him in your bed.
✦ Word Count | 8.6k
✦ Warnings | MDNI 18+ get the fuck outta here, Smut, Reader is very sure of themselves, Lion gets lost in the sauce, Titty Sucking, Breeding Kink, Calling Reader ‘Mama’, Mutual Pining/Yearning, P in V, Fingering (F! Receiving), Mention of Pregnancy, Alcohol, Creampie, Dacryphillia, Both Lion and Reader implied to be tipsy but both are consenting VERY enthusiastically.
✦ A/N | OMG yall it hasn’t been a half a year in between fics! This was originally supposed to go up in January but shit happened and now its March and I have a broken leg 🫠 . You’d think with all the time off you could write but who knew when you’re healing from surgery you need a lot of sleep and rest?? Certainly not me. But my New Years Resolution is to post a bit more frequently and I’m trying my hardest to stick to it. Up next may be a lil Cook fic but who knows👀👀. A sweet and sincere thank you to my beloveds @madkingcrowley and @flixpii for beta and warning reading for me!! I hope you enjoy <333
Now Playing: Michelle Pfeiffer - Ethel Cain
"This really is some party huh?" He hears a voice over his shoulder say in such a sarcastic tone he could practically hear the eye-roll.
Before he could even realize who it was, much less that they were speaking to him, you settled into the worn couch cushion next to him, dressed in, what was to him the prettiest mundane sweater he had ever seen. It gave you a warm, homey feel, as if you both weren't in some fight bookies living room where he was pretty sure you two were the last coherent people left in the home, instead, a vision of you, wrapped up in his sweater holding each other close in a little home far away from any troubles left here came before his eyes before he had to swiftly blink them away.
"I um.. I don't think its that bad" He rambled out with a polite chuckle as he quickly reached for his empty solo cup, anything to busy his hands to keep them from their notorious shake.
As soon as the your airy giggle settled in his ears, he was hit with a wave of warmth that rivaled the bit of alcohol blooming in his stomach,
"You can say its shit Lion" You chuckle as you swirl the dark liquid in your plastic cup.
"I'm the one who had to put this whole thing together, and now look, we're the last sober ones" There was a playful lilt in your voice as you gesture around to your surroundings to make your point, which was evident. His own brother was in the kitchen, not so subtlety swaying as he talked animatedly to a few, equally tipsy people, no doubt trying to sell Lion's fighting dream that wasn't his at all.
"I had to do all this shit last minute, putting together some sorry excuse for my boss to ring in the new year plastered, and I'm left to pick it up . That's not fair right?" The annoyance and frustration evident in your tone. There was something so beautiful about you when you're riled up like this.
Its not fair, and he knew that better than most. Fighting for the satisfaction of others with no personal benefit is all hes known for what seems like centuries. He wonders if you were the way he could get out of all of this, a juvenile dream of running away from both of your responsibilities together to open that little laundromat that seemed like the promised land. A quick little courthouse wedding between just the two of you because that's all you need, taking you in the wedding bed in your shared apartment, listening to the airy moans that were your syrupy declarations of love and adoration for him. He quickly shook himself out of those dreams and tucked his hands in his lap before adjusting in his seat.
"No, that's doesn't seem fair" Lion spoke, clearing his throat as he desperately tries to keep those thoughts that play at the front of his mind at bay.
"You know what, we deserve to get drunk too, fuck forever being stuck as the responsible ones" You sling your arm around the mans strong shoulders, the warmth in your skin radiating, melding into his.
"I have a game we can play", the hum in your voice playful, right on the edge of a giggle. Here you were, so close that he could see all the little details of the face that's transfixed him since the first time he ever laid eyes on it. What would really be the hurt of getting tipsy with the person that haunts his every waking moment. You were right, everyone else was already waking up with a hangover, whats two more?
"..It's called Truth or Drink, its easy! You either answer a question, or you drink" The grin playing on your mouth glimmered in the shitty overhead lighting of the living room, putting the finest jewels to shame, glimmering as you plopped back onto the couch , placing armfuls of various alcohol on the little coffee table in front of you both.
Settling into your seat, you cant help but feel a juvenile giddiness, like you're doing something wrong, or that could just be the couple previous drinks you’d been sipping on finally catching up to you. With the hands of a surgeon, you steadily pour the dark liquid into shitty little plastic cups, prepping your shots for the game. You watch the cinnamon drink swirl into hypnotizing little pools.
"Here, I'll go first, give you a chance to think" You coyly tease, watching as you catch the tips of his ears begin to redden.
"So" You begin, fully facing him now on this tiny couch and more than aware of your knees brushing together as you bring your legs up to sit criss crossed. "Who picked the name 'Lion'? You or Stan"
He glances over to the open kitchen, watching his brother stumble and talk animatedly, no doubt recollecting some half truth story about him.
"Stan, said my fightin' reminds him of one" his voice is steady, like hes not actively trying to remember just how long ago that was, where Walter stopped and Lion began.
"Cute, y'know I only see Lion on all the fight schedules, whats you're real name?"
"Aren't I supposed to be the one askin' you a question now?" the man quips back quickly, like hes actually been listening to you, its a nice change from the rest of the men in your life.
"Don't get your panties in a twist, consider it a part of my original question"
"Its uh.. It's Walter, Walter Kaminski" His words brought a little smile to your lips. A cute name for a cute man.
"Well" You grab his hand, not too rough, and shake it like you're meeting him for the first time instead of him being sat across from your desk at least once a week. "It's a pleasure to meet you Walter Kaminski"
The use of his name, not some persona, not some idea of what he should be, it made warmth bloom in his chest. He wore a coy little smile on his lips, only showing the smallest hint of those fang like teeth.
"Alright, my turn" his words were mockingly stern, like a child whose just learning to share.
" I get to ask two questions now, after you cheated".
You're quick to gasp in faux offense
"I did not!"
"Yeah? How many questions do we do per turn because I feel like you're cheating?" He's crossing his arms now while he glares at you, on the surface it does look pretty intimidating, if you didn't know him you'd probably hightail it to god knows where. But, you can see him struggling to suppress a small laugh playing at the edge of his mouth. That's all you needed.
"Fine!" You throw up your hands in surrender
"You can ask your questions I guess. Y'know for a boxer you sure do whine and complain a lot"
The man across from you searches in the recesses of his mind, anything question he could scrape up. It felt as if his thoughts were on fast forward while his body was on pause. So many questions rushing though his head, whats your favorite food, favorite movie, do you like him? Like really like him, or are you just trying anyone else that's sober to pass the time with? How would you feel with his head in between your legs, are you noisy? Lion bets that you are with your quick wittiness and sharp tongue, its how you are in his dreams.
"So.. uh.." He doesn't mean to stammer it out the way he did, his fingers are wringing the hem of his nicest sweater.
"Do you, ya'know, come to these things often?" Why was he so nervous, god he felt like a 12 year old asking his crush to the school dance.
You giggle a bit at his nervousness, leaning over to take your hand and playfully pat it on his stubbled cheek.
"Oh Lion, That isn't what you wanted to ask is it?" You coo with a slight cock of your head, your eyes not leaving his.
"But no, I'm not much of a party person, more of a homebody. Go on, ask what you want, I'll give you your extra" With a poke to his chest, you settle back into the crook of the couch, curling around the drink you've been intermittently sipping all evening.
You watch as he quirks a little smile, gazing to the side as he searching for that question he longs the answer for, anything he wants to know.
"How do you.. How do you like your coffee in the morning?" His eyes twinkle something mischievous at the question, that little knowledge of something so intimate. Something that he'd know when he wakes up before you on lazy mornings where he'd nudge your sleeping form awake gently to meet you with whatever you wanted.
"You can't be serious Lion, that's the best you could come up with!" Your eyes can't help but roll at his seemingly boring question
"Honestly, I'll take any caffeine I can take with all the shit I gotta do, but preferred? I do have a bit of a sweet tooth, if you load it with creamer or sugar, you'll have my heart" You giggle a bit through your confession, almost just how at ease the man across from you in,
You take a sip of the drink in your hand, grimacing a bit at the sting that rides the back of your throat.
"My turn now, we really gotta teach you how to ask questions or we're both gonna end up more sober than when we started".
"Have you ever got a concussion? Y'know like knocked out cold?"
It's a miracle your words are as even as they are. You feel the cozy warmth of liquor flow through your body, The man soon got his footing when it came to questions, finally giving you an excuse to drink. He somehow looks even prettier with alcohol in his system, he has a warm glow about him. The flush that was once just punctuating his face soon spread to his ears, coloring them in a sweet pink hue.
"Yeah, 'think I've got a couple concussions under my belt, but no I've never been knocked out, most of my fingers've been broken more than once though" He punctuated his words with a slow flex of his fingers, which upon further inspection are littered with little scars and have a faint tremble about them, they're somehow just as beautiful as his flushed face.
"Holy shit Lion, and they still work?!" You shouldn't have sounded as curious as you were, you just couldn't help it. It ignited a morbid curiosity in you, surely the human body wasn't meant to withstand the amount of battery that Lion goes through, To you, its crazy he could still flex them.
"Can I uh.. Can I touch 'em? Your fingers?" You don't know why you felt the need to clarify, of course you were talking about his hands, surely nothing else.
He gives you a brief look of surprise, like hes shocked that someone is interested in him, invested in the stories that the scars and broken bones have to tell.
"Knock yourself out" He said with a little laugh, holding out his hands to you as if he was showing you his latest manicure.
His hands were strong, fingers wide, thick, you can't help but imagine how nicely they would feel caressing your face or curling up into you. They're scarred and calloused, but somehow still so soft. You cautiously graze your fingers across his knuckles, taking both of his hands in yours and lightly holding them. You brush down their length, tracing over ever little bump and scar as if they could tell you their stories and what they've seen.
Lion hisses in front of you, taking in the air cold and sharp.
"Ow..Fuck" His words are laced in pain, gritted as his brows brows knit together in a grimace. You had never dropped something from your hands quicker. Your eyes shift up quickly to meet his, wide with concern, searching his Lion's face for any explanation on what you did wrong. Instead, you're met with satisfied, relaxed chuckles and a warm smile, radiating into the space surrounding the man.
"Augh! You are such a fuckin' asshole!" Your words are punctuated with a quick punch in the chest.
"I'm sorry! I am!" He said in the middle of a fit of laughter, bringing his hands up to block anymore of your upcoming attacks.
"You're real funny! I thought I hurt you! What'd you even do that for? Is that the signature move that gets all the girls to 'kiss it better'? " The sarcasm is dripping from that last line, crossing your arms dramatically. Something in his eyes seemed to shift a bit, deep behind those sweet, ocean eyes you couldn't help but get lost in every time you saw him. There was more of a flush at the tips of his ears, now going all the way down his neck. He held his hands out once more.
"Y'know, I've heard its the only thing that'll stop 'em from hurting" The sentence comes out shakier than what was probably intended, not the cool and smooth line he was most likely intending it to be. That didn't matter to you though, what left him seemed far more sweet than some macho man routine, more honest.
You can't help the smile that comes to your face, with a playful roll of your eyes, you lean down until you are met with the vision of the man's jagged knuckles.
"Well, we wouldn't want that now would we?" The tone of your words are gentle, whispered as if it they were only for his skin to hear as your lips were pressed against his hands. Carefully, as if he'd shatter if you pressed to hard, you leave a kiss on ever little bump, shifting your gaze to meet the man who couldn't pry his eyes away from your form. The warmth in his skin was delicious, a little hotspot sprouting on every mark you kissed. Too soon for his liking, you parted from him, setting his hand back in his lap.
"Better?" You ask earnestly, you're only met with a nod.
"Good, I get to ask another question to pay for the emotional damage your little prank put me through." Lions starting to think he may like the teasing, that's the only explanation for the little sparks firing at his nerve ending and down to the pit in his stomach. He watches as you run your fingers down the fabric of your skirt, smoothing it out. He can't help but think about how much he wants to get underneath it, hike it up by your hips and show you just how good these fingers can make you feel.
"Just make it good" He tries his hand at teasing, the light words feeling unfamiliar in his mouth. He's holding his cup as if it could protect you from seeing just how much you have an effect on him.
"When have my questions not been good? I gotta think about it for a sec"
There's a beat of silence.
"Do you like fighting Lion?" It's a genuine question, one laced with sincerity instead of the usual playful lilt.
"Because it seems like Stan likes fighting, you though, I'm not sure"
There was barely enough time for a breath after your words before Lion took a swig of his drink, pretty much finishing the cup in one gulp. You watched his body language closely, it was as if he had turned to stone under your voice, stilling all of those fidgety movements you had gotten so used to, instead his hands were borderline white knuckling the plastic as his eyes tunneled into the side of your face. That gave you more of an answer than anything.
"What would you do if you could anything, money wasn't a problem and you could do anything in the world?" That question makes him loosen a bit, no longer statuesque, instead you see him fidgeting with his hands once more, like he doesn't know what to do with them.
"I uh.. I'd run a dry cleaners, Kaminski Cleaners, wanna have people lookin' better than when they come in, clean 'em up real nice y'know?" His words are soft, like hes embarrassed about how much they mean to him. Hes looking at you with the sweetest gaze that has your heart doing flips.
"Y'know what you should do is run a laundromat with it, so people can wash their clothes and get their dry cleaning done at the same place." You say with a smile, something genuine and heartfelt and he beamed. He was so passionate, sharing his little escape with you, the closest thing he could get to heaven. That didn't sound too bad to you, a little slice of blissed out domesticity only for the two of you.
He shines at your suggestion, that you had taken him so seriously, not even playing it as a joke for one moment. Maybe his daydreams are more rooted in reality than he once thought.
Breaking the welcomed stillness that surrounded you, you stand up, grabbing his hand to pull him along.
"Hey.." Your eyes can't help but glance down to his lips, perfect and bite-able as they stay ever so slightly parted.
"Do you wanna continue our game somewhere else?" The question doesn't get even get a chance to hang in the air before hes standing up, your thumb running across his knuckles was all the coaxing he needed. You didn’t need to ask. He was willing to go anywhere with you.
"Yeah.. yeah that sounds good with me" He shoots you a sweet smile as he desperately tries to ignore the rapid surge of blood now flowing down to his lap, grabbing the nearest bottle of liquor under the guise of continuing your game as he comes to his feet.
You keep his hand intertwined in yours, leading him like an ever-loyal puppy behind you, bringing him to the hall that was across from you both. The idea of a room with a door seemed nice, a luxury you were willing to pay for to keep your night with the man going. There had to be a bedroom in this house somewhere. You try the doors, all locked but one, the spare bedroom. You open the door wide for him to see, making a grand gesture with your arms as you lead him inside.
"Would you like me to lead you to your room sir?" You ask in a dramatic voice, an over exaggeration of some TV show butler at its best. He snorts a laugh, you giggle back in response as you shut the door behind you.
The muffled sound of music of the party felt deafening as the door latched behind you both, watching as he timidly sat at the edge of the the mattress running his hands over the worn knees of his jeans, its cute. The bed dips under your weight as you sit down next to him, pressing your legs together in a way that shot heat down your spine. His legs felt solid, no doubt from years of training his muscles meticulously, but here you could feel the hint of a tremble, anticipation from what you both knew what awaited you in this bed.
As if it had a mind of their own, your hand finds itself on his jean clad knee, running small circles with your pointer finger. You feel his legs tremble at your soft touch, the slightest hitch of his breath, how you had such an effect on him with the lightest graze of your finger. You can't help but take in sight of his face- eyes bouncing from his wet doe eyes, wide and swirling with desire, to his lips, perfect and soft, every so slightly parted as he couldn't rip his eyes from you. Your hands snakes up his bouncing thigh and with a sly little smile, finds his hand and intertwining it with your own, the clamminess bringing you a sort of comfort.
You feel his eyes on you, the warmth building in your face as those perfect eyes spend what feels like forever looking at you, like he wanted to make sure he didn't miss a single freckle, a mole, anything so he could perfectly recount your face and relay its sheer beauty to anyone that would listen. You face him, coy smile playing on your lips to hide your sudden shyness at his unabashed attention, tilting your head sweetly as you not so subtly stare at his lips.
"What're you staring at like that pretty boy?" A playful tease falls from your mouth as you draw little circles on his thumb.
You couldn't even take your next breath in before you felt his lips collide into yours, desperation seeping into your mouth. At first its a mess of spit, soft flesh on flesh until you mutually reach a rhythm and melt into each other. Your eyes flutter close, heightening every little sensation. You feel the scape of his short cut stubble on your cheek, the soft strands of his hair as you run your fingers through the length and down to the nape of his neck, wrapping that stupid little rat-tail he somehow made look cute around your finger with a muffled giggle.
Those once trembling hands, now bold with need, hold steady on your face. You feel as one stays planted against your cheek as if to keep you in his grasp forever, the other begins its exploratory endeavor as it slides down your jawbone and rests comfortably around your neck. These hands, capable of so much violence, now set your body alight. You tilt your head to deepen the kiss, keeping his head tenderly cradled in your palm. His mouth feels softer than you dreamed, nipping and biting your lips in a way that had heat pooling in your core and soft whimpers flowing back into him. The hand on your neck slowly guides you down until your back hits the plush of mattress, carefully as if you were made of porcelain.
With the man on top of you, he slots his knee in between your legs in what seems more like a way to stabilize himself instead of adding to your dreamy pleasure. That was until you feel him bring it to the crotch of your jeans, adding the sweetest bit of friction that had you mewling into him sweetly. Both of your arms wrap around his neck, hands curling up to brush those sweet brown waves with your fingers.
Your head is swirling in a way you choose to blame on the oxygen deprivation instead of the man in front of you and his tongue exploring your mouth, tracing over you and your own tongue likes hes trying to memorize its taste. You tug at the short length intertwined in your hand, illiciting a groan from him that rumbles against your lips. You part from him for a moment to catch your breath, biting his lower lip on your way out, causing a quick and playful growl to leave his chest as you giggle on your back, struggling to catch your breath.
Lion was also trying to keep his breath steady, chest buzzing and vibrating with adrenaline and need. He smiles a small, lopsided smile that showed off those little fangs of his that you've grown to love the feeling of them nipping you. He takes in the sight of you, lightheaded and and underneath him and hes never felt more in love until this moment, he needed to see you like this more often.
He brings is forehead to lean on your own, bodies only centimeters apart like it caused the man physical pain to not be as close as possible. You felt him pant with a little chuckle at the back of his throat. You figured this was a welcome little break, something short to kind of come down from the initial rush, until you feel his stubble scrap near your temple and a small kiss on your forehead, then on your cheek, then you feel his lips press a messy kiss right under your ear as his hands make their way to your waist
"Can we uh.. can we take this off" he pleads, sounding out of breath as he tugs on the hem of your sweater, so sweet and polite with it.
It takes a second to process what he says before you nod with a doting smile, pressing a kiss more tender than whats usually used just for a hookup on his forehead, brushing his hair back a tiny bit off his head in a sweeping motion.
"Yeah..Yeah, Go ahead Lion honey" You mumble against skin and you watch his eyes glean with the promise of your permission. Not wasting any time, he takes the offending sweater and bra off in quick movements before setting them on the floor with the alcohol, seemingly wanting nothing to stand in his way.
Your nipples perk at the sudden chill of being exposed in contrast with the warmth they were just enveloped in. You shudder slightly and gasp at the sensation, the nerve endings intertwining that with the feeling of the man leaving sloppy kisses and bites on the junction of your neck, gasps and moans floating out of your mouth. That nose, the one crooked from the sheer amount of times its been broken, the one that would feel heavenly nudging against your clit, presses against your neck in the wake of his kisses. It roots and nudges so prettily as his sucks and bites take him down your clavicle. Its as if hes trying to leave any remnant of him he can intertwined with your very being. The kisses weren't heated, not one blinded by the lust of a quick fuck. No, they felt different, softer. They felt motivated with the deep infatuation of a lover, an action where they can finally pour all of their adoration out of themselves and lace their bites with the feeling.
"I ha I don't think you're nearly naked enough" You hum a tease as you kiss his hairline, letting a breathy moan escape you as he decides to dig his canines particularly hard in your collarbone. You feel around for the bottom of his own shirt before tugging it off, earning a small whine from Lion like it caused him physical pain to separate from your chest for the mere moment it took to get the fabric over his head.
His skin feels smooth under your fingers as they travel to the hem of his boxers that are just peeking out of his jeans. You let your nails graze the skin of his hips and around to his back and you swear you could feel the rumble of a purr against your sternum. His clothed hips grind into you, hard cock brushing against the fabric of your pants just right in a way that has your head buried deep among the pillows and a hand in his hair as you mewl in hot pleasure.
You notice him pause for a brief moment in the center of your chest before continuing his ministrations . His breath shudders as he places open mouth, needy kisses at the edge breasts as his nose nudges the fat, almost as if he were a blind babe searching for food. The soft whimpers leave his lips, almost as if he were laying his head fully on your chest to listen to your heartbeat, hips not ceasing at all.
There was something sweet about his cautious deep breaths, a man who could take anything he wanted, but still too wary to ask for it. His saliva pools on the soft skin as he gets sloppier with need, little incoherent noises that belong only to your ears leaving him in his wake. Breaking the heat of his mouth, a cold drip occasionally splashes on your skin in a way that took a moment to realize what exactly it was. His sweet tears every so often dropping to meet his spit as his hands hastily try to remove your jeans, lifting your legs up momentarily to leave you in your panties, certainly not your sexiest pair by any means but with the way Lion's glossy eyes stare at the wetness in the fabric, its as if you were wrapped in the finest lace and silk.
While hes momentarily on his haunches, straddled over your bare legs, you finally get a chance to look at him. His lips, kiss-bitten and pink from his dedication to not leaving a single part of you unmarked, his sweet eyes, wet and glossy with need, but for what exactly you didn't know, and finally, his stomach. That smooth plane that got peppered with light hair the lower you went, and just how desperately you yearned to follow that sparse trail. Your eyes don't break from his, reflecting back straight to your soul that causes you to coo. Sweetly, you cup his face and draw him back to your collarbone, your thumb rubbing up and down on his temple.
His head lays there, chin set in the middle of your chest so he can stare at you with all the adoration in the world. All the dreams of waking you in your shared bed with your too sweet coffee finally coming closer than they ever have before. Your nails scrap his scalp as he hums, hips moving against yours in a smooth rhythm.
"What are you whinin' for honey? I can't know what you want unless you tell me" You coo in a teasing tone, fingers never stopping their soothing work. Curling the strands around one of the weaved in digits, you give them a playful little tug earning a quiet, gasping moan from the pliant man.
You slowly, teasingly, trace your fingers over his flesh with the lightest touch you can muster. You treat him like hes a caged beast and that once wrong out of place movement could be your downfall, so you touch him with an animals caution.
You scoot him up a bit, moving his head so its right on top of you as he holds himself up with the sturdy arms of a boxer, fingers traveling back down to the cool button of his jeans. With lidded eyes, you lean in, capturing his lips in a slow, sensual kiss where you take the lead this time. It catches him by surprise, only hesitating for a moment before melting into your touch.
There's a symphony of small moans and giggles intertwined with kisses, the feeling that this is far from the last time you both will be doing this. You pop the button and are immediately met with a groan of relief, tugging them half off and leaving the rest for him to kick to the ground. With ease you find the heavy weight of your prize in your palm. The front of his boxers sticky and soaked with precum, tip leaking like a faucet.
You separate from his lips and are met with the gorgeous sight of weepy eyed Lion, face ever so slightly flushed with need.
"Tell me what you want Lion?" the words leave in a hushed hum, lips still brushed against his. You're met with a pleading gaze as he feels your thumb softly graze his slit, a shudder down his spine being your reward.
"I need words" to punctuate your request, you hold your thumb over his tip, stilling all movement.
"Shit ha, I um..I" He stammers with the newfound need to vocalize what he wants. Whats the extent of what he could ask for before it was too much? He wanted to take you on every possible surface that seemed like it could hold up your weight, he wanted to get you out of that cramped, damp closet they insisted was your office, that's not where he wanted the future mother of his children to be, somewhere unhappy. If you'd let him, you both could run away from everything keeping you both down, shack up quick and start your own little family even quicker. Was that okay to ask for now or should he wait til the morning.
A couple little tears cascaded down his face. You couldn't help but think about how pretty he looks when hes crying. He really didn't mean for it to happen, you were everything he had dreamed about and your hand just felt so good wrapped around his cock, even with it stilled. With a free hand, you reach up to wipe the streak from his face, pursing your lips to let out a sweet little tsk, a smile fighting to emerge.
"I want to.." His eyes looked so pretty when he was too worked up to ask for what he wanted. That's why you held his head, stilling it to make him look at you. "You um..you have really pretty tits.. wanna suck 'em while I make you feel good" God this felt humiliating in all the right ways.
Hearing him on the brink of tears ask you to such a menial thing had a new wave of wetness slicking your core. Lion, who has single-handedly brought down men double his size with a single punch, was now weeping and begging on your chest, it made your head spin with all sorts of delicious pleasure.
"Oh sweet boy" You slowly start to move the hand wrapped around his cock. Immediately, a shuddering breath escapes and warms the skin of your neck.
"You wanna suck on my tits as you finger me? Is that right?" Using his ever-flowing precum as lube, your soft hand goes up and down ever so slowly, causing a flow of little curses and moans to leave the boxers mouth, all while he makes sure he keeps his eyes open for you. Every time he had shamefully imagined it was your hand wrapped around his cock rather than himself it hardly compared to how good you felt. He nods at your words in acknowledgement.
You giggle at just how much you have an effect on him, shaking your head sweetly which was met with a minuscule grimace on his face, dissolving quickly as soon as you graze his tip with your thumb.
"I've got a better idea Lion, are you ready to listen?" You tease, he nods his head quickly, sweet whines flooding your ears.
"You can suck them, its so sweet you even thought you needed to ask, and even sweeter you think of me first. I'm gonna keep touching you, but if you cum-" You don't even get a chance to finish the sentence.
"'m not gonna cum" He says with surprising boldness, a boldness that makes you chuckle at his eagerness.
"Good, then there's no need to worry pretty boy" The words flow from your mouth playfully, kissing him briefly on the lips with a short passion that has his face warming as you pat his cheek. The newfound nickname having more of an effect on him as he'd care to admit.
With your unneeded permission still hanging in the air, he takes in a deep breath and sweetly, he begins to place kisses and notably rougher bites on your collarbone. Bites that you could tell would bloom welcome red and purple bruises come morning. Those pointed canines you had always loved to see in his sweet, lopsided smile now dug deliciously into your skin. The sharp pain would be quickly followed by the warmth of his tongue lapping at the wound, the feeling had you rubbing your thighs together and your grip on his length tightening momentarily, a short groan quickly following.
You felt his mouth inch closer to his desired destination, what he yearned for so deeply but felt like he couldn't have. He nips up your breast, those teeth sending jolts down to your core as if he wanted to draw the pleasure out for you. How thoughtful. Experimentally, he prods the sensitive bud with his tongue, licking it softly before biting once again, this time drawing a sweet mewl from your lips that had his cock somehow stiffening even further in your hand. You quicken your pace, rubbing up and down his shaft. You feel the tremble of his arm which is now reaching up to pinch the soft nipple hes not currently latched on to, twisting ever so delicately with his thumb and index finger. Drool and saliva coats the sensitive nerve, your eyes rolling back ever so slightly as he goes back and forth between sucking and biting. The sharp scrape of his teeth is almost enough to send you over the edge by itself. That was until you felt his other hand now slide down your side and dip into your panties, sliding them down until they were notched around your knees. He dips an exploratory finger in your slit, shuttering and his eyes widening a bit at your sheer wetness.
"Holy shit" He mumbles against your skin in astonishment, it made you realize just how blue his eyes were, glimmering and gleaning like the surface of a still lake as he peered up from your breasts. You hummed in pleasure, feeling his notched fingers drag against your slit deliciously, his knuckle catching on your clit in a way that had your thighs clamping around his arm with a jolt to your core.
"You're.. you're so wet, fuck..baby" You can swear you feel him whimper around your nipple, honestly, you can barely make out anything with the way his fingers deliciously made your head swirl. Those fingers, those knuckles scarred and trembling from countless punches hes thrown rub your walls just right, so right that every babbling, weepy word coming from the mans mouth sounds as if its underwater.
There's a warmth in your stomach beginning to bloom, spreading straight to your core. It feels as if a tsunami is about to crash on top of your limp body. No man had ever made you feel anywhere close to this, regardless of if you were imagining Lion on top of you or not. His fingers wobbly began to circle your clit, it had your back arching against the mattress and your hand falling from his cock to press against his chest with a worried look on your face, eyes quickly falling to his, glossy and wet with need as he nips your bud, sending another jolt down to your core.
"Lion..Lion wait!! Wait 'm gonna cum hold on, let up!" You push against him, first on his stomach, solid under your hand. In desperation you reach to his wrist, gripping it so tightly that you're briefly afraid that you'll cut off his circulation. You can't help but dig your feet into the mattress, squirming around his arm as if you can escape the impending crash of pleasure you can feel building rapidly.
Tears prick in your eyes, you just cant help it. It feels as if you're drowning, sinking down to the bottom of a pool with weights on your ankles. Your fingers weave into his hair, tugging the strands a little rougher than intended, but that didn't matter in this moment of desperation, it felt like you were going to die. You force his eyes to meet yours, searching his in borderline plead, any little glimmer of mercy while his cheek laid on your sternum, placing the sweetest little kisses on the fat on your chest and looking at you as if you'd hung the starts. It feels so overwhelming, everythings crashing in at once and you cant stop the tears when they start to stream down your face, biting your lip in a feeble attempt to keep it from wobbling.
"L..Lion I'm serious! Quit it!" You beg, a wet sob ripping from you as his circles become tighter and quicker.
Why the fuck did he have to be so hard headed?
"God fuckin' damnit!! You're.." You gasp, you feel as if your brains on fast forward and your body's on pause. There's a warm knot deep in your core that is one tug away from being undone.
"You are such a fuckin' asshole~" And just like that there's a tingly wave crashing over you, soaking his hand that's circling your clit so hard you're afraid it'll make his arthritis act up. One hand still woven in the soft strands, the other has you half propped up, trying to desperately back up from the hot pleasure you're gasping to get away from, head cemented to the pillow with a new coat of sweat plastered on your forehead.
You feel as if you're above your body, the burning pleasure of his slowing circles the only thing keeping you from floating away. There's still spit glossing his puffy lips as he parts from his chest, his pupils blown out as he looks at your splayed out form up and down. A little cum-drunk grin shines on his face, his pointy canines that have made themselves known on your skin glistening in a way you can't pry your eyes away from.
He props himself up on his forearm, using his free hand to cup your cheek with his whole palm, messily brushing the stuck hair off your face as you gasp for air. His second hand still hasn't ceased, only slowed down to soft circles in a way that has you clenching around nothing.
"Shhhh.. Shhhh" He hums as you hiccup and catch your breath, your eyes cant stop bouncing from his pink lips up to his wet eyelashes. Without moving his hand from your cheek, he slips his thumb in between your lips and you can't help but softly suck. The sensation bringing you a little closer to your body.
"I've never seen somethin' so gorgeous in my entire fuckin' life" Lions flushed face has such a sappy grin on it you can't help but think hes imagined this exact scenario before in great detail. You wonder he thinks about you falling asleep on his chest in the same way all your dreams end.
He presses his forehead against your own, you giggle a little bit at feeling the longer part of his hair stuck to his head with sweat. His chest shakes with a deep breath, shuddering as he feels your fingers run through his hair until they end up sweetly twirling that stupid little rat-tail. You end up taking his thumb out of your mouth just enough to have the digit pressed against your lips, pouted in a sweet kiss against the skin.
You feel as he wipes away the drying tears from your cheek before pressing a playful kiss against your pout, biting your lower lip in the process with a coy grin.
"I need to be inside you, is that what you want baby? You want me to fuck you?" He coos, bobbing his head slowly in rhythm with his words as if he were asking how you were feeling that morning.
You don't think you've ever agreed to something quicker, nodding dumbly as you spread your thighs wider to allow him to slot himself in between your legs, slowly bringing his length up to your entrance as he eases his tip in. There's a dull pain from the stretch it takes to accommodate him, a delicious sting that's everything you've dreamed of. You can't help but clamp down on the welcome intrusion, a quiet whimper escaping your lips and your legs wrap around his waist, drawing him in deeper until his hips are flush with your pussy.
It takes him a second to gain his composure, here he is feeling your walls pulse around him like a waking wet dream. Everything is so much better than he could've possibly imagined, colors dancing behind his closed eyes as he tries his hardest not to cum on the spot. His shuddering warm breaths brushing against your ear as he tries to keep his composure.
"You're ha.. you're really tight.. and warm.." He groans against your skin, trying his hardest to keep his voice even.
"and jus' as sweet as I thought too" He mumbles underneath your ear, placing a kiss under the lobe.
Slowly and with the utmost care, you feel as his hips withdrawal from yours until he was almost entirely pulled out, illiciting a sweet whine from your lips at the lost warmth almost immediately.
Then with a sudden newfound force, he rams his cock in you in one solid go, moaning against your skin as he does. Your nails dig sweet crescents into his sturdy biceps, those arms you spent an embarrassing amount of nights imagining wrapped around and holding you close, scarred hands cupping your chin to keep your eyes on his face, shimmering with a newfound need to have him so close you can't tell where you start and he begins.
The sticky sound of skin slapping against skin ricochets off the walls, thank god for the music playing in the living room or the entire party would know exactly who was buried deep in your pussy, at this point you don't even mind, the wet squelch that echoed every time he thrust made that abundantly clear. You couldn't help but writhe underneath him, desperately trying to escape the warm pleasure crawling through your veins, causing warm tears to leave tracks in their wake.
Lion's shoulders shook as his thrusts grew increasingly sloppy, as if he couldn't bare the sheer milliseconds it took to pry his hips away from yours . Again and again he slammed into you, that beautifully curved head brushing against that spot that made you see stars and your cunt tighten around him with a groan. Your head buries into the pillow, one hand reaching up to take the headboard in a death grip, anything to try to keep your bearings and prevent your sliding up and down the mattress in time with his thrusts.
"Fuck honey.. you gettin' close?" He looks down at you with a sweet gaze, gasping out his words only to be met with a dazed nod in his grip. You're met with a pointy smile, the smile you wanted to see in your wedding photos.
You're barely able to hold onto his words, it takes significant effort to make out what it says.
"Good, so so good.. 'm gettin' close too. You gonna let me cum in you? Fill this sweet pussy an' make you a mama? You'd like that wouldn't you?" His thrusts speed up as you gasp, your nails dig into his arm so hard you're afraid you'll draw blood. You shakily nod, but it does nothing to stop his rambling.
"You'd let me give you a baby.. let me take you away from all this.. away from this shitty office, this life, get you a cute lil' place far away where you can help run my business all knocked up.." He leans his head against yours once more, waiting in the air for a brief moment before capturing your lips in a needy, hungry kiss. Nothing but teeth and heated moans.
His hands quickly travel to the backs of your thighs which stayed knotted around his waist, lifting and bending them until you could swear your knees were up towards your ears.
"You'd look awful cute with a belly, knew it when I first saw you" He mumbles in between kisses, that wave creeping back up at a threateningly quick rate. You feel as he grows close, sloppy thrusts with a ring of cum coating the base his cock, a noise you never knew could be music to your ears.
One of his hands travels down your stomach, lingering for a little longer than you'd intitally expected before you feel those bruised fingers brush against your clit, your walls tightening around his length in response. He slowly beings to circle, a stark contrast between the desperate slams of his hips while his free hand keeps you bent. It was all too much, too many sensations at once. There was so much happening and not enough time in the world for your body to catch up to anything. The burning in your thighs, the sharp nips of Lion's canines on your lips, the slickness dripping down your ass, your brain couldn't keep up.
"Wanna.." You gasp against his lips, eyes opening and glimmering into his own. "Gonna cum Lion! God…please" You beg, but at this point you don't even know what for.
He chuckles, his deliberate circles speed up to get you there in time with him, it was as if a dam was cracking under the pressure of a flash flood.
"Let go, come on, cum with me…lemme fill you up..make you a mama" He begs desperately, a few stray, pent up tears falling from his eyes as his hips speed up, slamming the headboard into the wall so hard you felt the room may cave in on you both.
Just like that a heavenly warmth spreads deep into your lower half as your back arches, legs spasming as your own orgasm collides with his into a warm bliss. Your heart races as his thrusts begin to slow into soft occasional pumps, your head spinning as you try to catch your breath, shuddering and shaking underneath him.
Sweat-slicked and heavy, he lowers your thighs back down to the bed as he slowly pulls out, his cum pooling and dripping out of your entrance much to his dismay. With a brief grimace the man takes two fingers, scooping his seed back to where it belongs nestled inside you, the action causing a shaky breath to exit you. He chuckles at your sensitivity, earning a glare even in your dazed state.
Still reeling and swirling, you feel as you're drawn into the fighters arms, pulled close to his sweaty chest underneath these strange covers. A chaste kiss is quickly placed on your forehead as you close your eyes in content at the combination of the mans racing heartbeat and the welcomed rubs of your back by his broad hand.
"Hey Walter" You mumble sweetly, feeling your soul settle back into your body as you tilt your head to face him, feel his scruff rub against your skin.
He hums in acknowledgment, the hardest orgasm of his life having yet to leave his body.
"You wanna go get breakfast in the morning?" You smile, brushing his wet hair back out of his face.
"Then you can tell me the how you like your coffee" The words are light and teasing, but steeped in a tender sincerity.
You feel his breath slowly begin to steady, the thrum of his heart still beating against his ribs as you feel a little whirlwind of a content sigh tornadoing in his chest, coming out with a coy smile attached.
A/N: Hii! This is a repost of the first fic I ever wrote and that I posted last Christmas. It disappeared with my blog into the void so I thought I could repost it! I changed the layout a little and added a few more details here and there but nothing that has an effect on the actual story!
Still wanna give a thanks to Jude @sinfulteeth for originally giving me the motivation to post this last year but also proofreading and helping me with the formatting on the OG post <3
Anyways, sorry to those who enjoyed this when it got deleted! Hope this repost will suffice and that it wasn't missed too badly!
The sky above Bristol was as dark as an black onyx stone, speckles of stars like snow sprinkled down and coated the ground in a blanket of white. Small clouds of fog appeared before your face at every exhale. A faint red glow warmed your cheeks in the cold weather.
It had been a while since you'd been walking down the endless roads of your hometown. Being home for the holiday had its own set of nostalgia attached to it. The streets felt small, shorter and maybe quieter than you remembered. It was a contrast from where you were studying, a nice contrast.
You had been home for a few days already and was prepared to celebrate Christmas in the coming week. All of the holiday stress had gotten to you and your family so you decided to take a little stroll to get some fresh air, and to get away from your mom and her panicked cleaning.
While in your own thoughts, your feet had somehow brought you to the park, though it looked more like someone had spilled a bag of flour everywhere rather than the green and lively park you remembered. Even with new snow continuously falling down, several paths were still visible under the multiple street lights illuminating the scenery before you. A walk in the park wouldn't hurt.
Lost in thought again, you wandered down the path, not really thinking of anything specific.
Suddenly you walked into something hard. You bounced back, loosing your balance and footing all together. You closed your eyes, prepared to hit the firmly pressed snow under you, but it never came. Instead, you felt a rough and firm hand grabbing yours. You opened your eyes to look at your savior. Those blue eyes. The blue eyes you knew way too well.
"Well aren't you a familiar face?" His voice was deeper, calmer. Yet, he still wore that mischievous, boyish grin.
You ripped your hand away from his, falling down as a result. Of all of the people that could be out right now, why did it have to be him? You pulled yourself up on your feet, grumbling a little under your breath as you tried brushing off as much snow as you could.
You both stood there under one of the many lights in the park, the air becoming heavy around you. You shuffled around on your feet while Cook awkwardly kept moving his hands around in his jacket pockets. You couldn't bring yourself to look at him.
"So uh, what you doin' here?" His voice was low, careful. It didn't sound like him at all, at least not the Cook you remember.
"Could ask you the same." Your voice mumbled. It sounded smaller than you wanted it to. This was the last thing you wanted to experience while being home.
"Just needed some air really… And a smoke.." He looked down while kicking in the snow. You nodded, your throat closing up so no sound could come out. God, this was the worst! You wanted to get away, you wanted to turn around and just leave, but for some reason you couldn't.
"How's your 'new life' goin'? Still in school?" You forgot you had called you moving to a new city your 'new life'. A way to move forward from everything that used to be. A new you. Yet, right now, you felt like old you. You could only nod, your brain blanking. He nodded back.
"You know, I've tried to call you.." Your eyes widened. There it was. The stab. You finally focused your eyes on him. He looked like him, but not at the same time.
His hair was longer, darker, though still unkept. He looked tired. Those blue, piercing eyes had lost their once mischievous glint. The biggest shock was that he word a big bruise on his right cheek while his tousled bangs tried to hide what looked like dried blood over his brow. You looked away, trying not to make it obvious you got lost for a second.
"Yeah uh sorry.. Things have been pretty hectic. Bills, studying, my job. This is my first break in a while." It felt like you were rambling. He slowly nodded, a little hum of acknowledgement following. His hands kept searching his pockets.
He pulls out a pack of cigarettes, pulling one of the slim white sticks out and placing it between his lips. You couldn't pull your eyes away. He leaned the pack towards you, offering you one. You shook your head, your lips forming into a thin, awkward smile. He pulled the pack back, holding his gaze at you for a second too long before putting it back safely into his pocket.
You averted your eyes away from him again, feeling your cheeks begin to flush. You tried to focus on anything else. You tried to catch snowflakes with your sight to no avail. Suddenly your eyes caught the faint glitter of the snow beside the light pole. You kept your eyes focused on the light shimmers until your heard grumbling.
You turned your head back towards Cook, seeing him disgruntled while aggressively searching his pockets.
"You gotta be fucking kidding me..." he grumbled around the cig. As if mirroring him, you began to search your own pockets, ending up pulling out a small blue cylinder.
You reached your hands towards him, flickering the lighter in front of his face. He watched the little yellow flame dance in front of him as you covered it with one of your hands. You could see his shoulders fall a little. Relieved, he accepted the gesture and lit his cigarette before turning his head a little blow away the smoke.
He turned back to look at you with an amused look.
"Didn't know you carried a light on ya." You chuckled lightly.
"Old habits die hard, right?" He chuckled back, nodding slightly.
The silence fell over you both once again. It had been years since you'd seen each other but for some reason, there was nothing to talk about.
Cook took a drag of his cig before taking a step towards you.
"Did you ever… think about what I told you last time we met?" You felt your stomach drop a little, like you had swallowed a big pebble. You felt yourself chewing on your lip as you look back at the snow beside you.
"I don't know Cook… I just… I just don't think it's meant to be…" You felt your words were laced with uncertainty. His brows furrowed, seeming annoyed by your response.
"Can't you just give it a chance? I fucked up, I know! But I've changed, I swear it! I'm better now!" He dropped the half smoked cig onto the snowed ground beside him before lightly stomping on it. He took another step closer to you, placing both of his hands on your blushed cheeks, lightly turning your head to look at him.
His hands were cold and slightly calloused, yet they fit perfectly around your face. Oh how you'd missed his touch. You felt the pebble in your stomach soften a little.
"You're the only one I want. The only one I need. I still love you" His voice came out gentle, as if his voice could break you.
You felt your chest tighten, the pebble hardened again. Not because you were moved, but because you knew it was too good to be true.
"The same way you still love Effy?"
He gasped, his hands timidly letting go of your face. He hesitated. He fucking hesitated. That in itself was the answer you needed. Not what you wanted, but what you needed. You ripped yourself away from his hold, feeling your whole body bubbling with anger, disappointment even. You turned around, not bearing to look at him for even a second longer.
You wanted to push him, slap him, scream at him for wasting so much of your time. For wasting so much of you. But instead you started walking. You could hear him calling out to you, but you didn't stop.
Your feet marched under you, pressing the snow rock hard under every step you took. You wanted to disappear. You just needed to get away. Get away from the situation, get away from him.
His steps followed quickly, his voice echoing behind you. A last resort to try and amend the past with everything he had. His hand managed to land on your shoulder before turning you around.
"Please..." he was breathing heavily, like he had climbed a mountain just to get to you .
You looked down at your shoes, then at his, then back at yours. You lifted your head to meet his gaze, his ever so desperate gaze. Your eyes were stinging from just looking at him.
"Merry Christmas James. Please don't call me." Your lips tightened into a thin line, as if it was to close off any more words you'd regret from leaving your tongue.
You turned back around, letting the tears roll down your cheeks as you left him there in his shock. The snow continued to sprinkle itself everywhere around you.
It didn't feel like the end, it never did. For some reason, you two always found each other, whether you wanted to or not.
All you could hope for was that he won't call you again.
Summary: Connor's always saying that something's wrong with him. Nine times out of ten, I think it's just 'cause he wants a day off school.
Warnings: Implications of child abuse but none detailed or directly mentioned.
Thank you to Jude for making my banner.
"Connor, your dad's gone to his meeting. Can I come in, love?"
Laura waited for a response, pushing down the urge to let herself in when Connor didn't reply. Steve had a lot of anger issues, the shouting and the violence overwhelming at times, but he was trying to better himself. He was putting the effort in to keep her, and that meant it was time she put the effort in to be a proper mum to Connor. It wasn't Connor's fault Chrissie had abandoned him, he was only six at the time, but sometimes, when they talked about her, Laura could swear it was guilt that sparked the boy's outbursts.
Connor's anger was part of what prompted Steve to go to the meetings. They could say it was for Laura's sake until the cows came home, but deep down they both knew they were working on their relationship to give Connor something stable. She'd made a vow to herself that part of that stability would be listening more, doing away with the dismissals and the mislaid blame so that he wouldn't feel the need to lash out just to be heard.
It had been happening for months, Connor's loss of control and his violent outbursts. He never seemed to have a reason for it, just shrugging his shoulders whenever the consequences caught up to him and shrinking deeper into his shell. Not even a half-arsed excuse. The school wanted to wipe their hands of him, like he was nothing more than a troublemaker. Laura couldn't accept that. Steve's meetings were near a library, so three weeks into the anger management course she took it upon herself to do her own research, and now she was ready, armed with drinks and biscuits, and the hope that maybe Connor meant it when he'd called her 'Mum' and begged her to stay.
This time the conversation had to be on his terms, so she called out again. "Connor, please. I want to talk to you. It's important."
The door opened and Connor looked up at her with those sad, guarded eyes. Laura would've given anything to see them shine with happiness for a change. She could remember the last time she'd seen him truly carefree. It was two months into her relationship with Steve and they'd gone out for the day, just her and Connor, to the Sea Life centre. His dad had met them for dinner and she'd watched as a comment about not scaring her off deflated Connor immediately. Their conversation with the doctor echoed in the back of her mind.
Is it worse when you feel threatened? When people put you under pressure?
Yeah.
"What?"
"Just thought we could sit down. Can I come in? I made you a cuppa. Well. I made me a cuppa, I made you a hot chocolate. With actual milk." Laura smiled hopefully.
"And marshmallows?"
"And marshmallows."
"Are you gonna make me clean my room?"
Laura laughed, the sound fragile where it should have been comforting. "No, love. I'm not going to make you clean your room. I just want to talk."
"Alright, I guess." Connor took his chocolate and sat on his bed, feeling the warmth of the cup between his hands but not daring to drink yet.
Laura turned the chair at his desk around to sit down, facing him without invading his personal space.
"What do you want then?" Connor appeared impatient, obviously anticipating a telling off, though she couldn't say what he thought he'd done wrong.
"Do you still think you've got asthma?" The question took him off guard.
"Thought you said I was faking it." Connor huffed, shoulders like hackles.
"I know." Laura put her cup down on the desk behind her. "I know what I said, and I shouldn't have said it. I'm sorry."
Connor shook his head, "Where is this coming from?"
"I'm supposed to be your mum, aren't I? Mums listen. So talk to me. Why do you think you have asthma? What does it feel like?"
Connor drank some of his chocolate and sat back, either thinking over her words or unable to speak, Laura wasn't sure. She didn't push him this time. The book told her that had been her mistake before, trying to force the words out of him before he was ready, making him feel like he couldn't confide in her. It still felt like an eternity until he mumbled, "Feels like I can't breathe. Feels like… like I'm gonna be sick and my head starts bangin'."
Something twisted in her stomach. When she'd read about anxiety and panic attacks, and the symptoms that came with them, she hoped she was mistaken. Connor was suffering and she'd disregarded him, just like everyone else had. "Oh love… when does this happen?"
Connor shrugged, shutting down the way he always had when the conversation got uncomfortable. Laura could see the tears coming before they fell. She reached across the space to take his cup, setting it aside so she could move to the bed and draw him into a hug. "It's okay. I've got you, sweetheart. I'm here."
"When Dad shouts. When I mess up at school. Stupid stuff." Connor wrapped his arms around her waist and curled up as tight as he could.
Laura rubbed his trembling back. "It's not stupid, Connor. It's okay to be scared."
"'M not scared."
"It's not asthma, love. It's anxiety. And I am so sorry, Connor. It's not your fault, it's ours."
"What's that mean?"
"It means your dad and I don't always make you feel safe. It means you're scared when your dad gets angry, and maybe you're still scared of what happens if I leave."
"I'm not scared of you and Dad." Connor pulled away, rubbing at his face with his sleeves.
"I'm not saying you are. I'm not scared of Steve, but his anger still frightens me." Laura kept her hand on his back, leaving the opening there if he wanted another hug, and choosing to share her burden if only to show Connor that she was listening; that she cared. "Anxiety isn't something to be ashamed of. Loads of people have panic attacks."
"So I don't need an inhaler?"
"No, but… I think we do need to go back to the doctor. There's people we can talk to. Bit like your dad's anger management, but it'll be about what's upsetting you, and about keeping calm, and you can say whatever you want to and nobody will ignore you or tell you off for it."
"And Dad won't get angry?"
"If he does, he'll have to deal with me. You don't need an inhaler but you're still not well. He can't get cross at you for seeing a doctor." Laura wiped away a tear that he'd missed. "I'm not ignoring you anymore, Connor. I'm here, I'm not going anywhere, and I'm listening, because I love you."
"Mum." She couldn't bear the pain in that whine. Laura pulled him back into her arms, holding back her own tears as he shook.
"It's gonna be okay, love. I promise." She kissed the top of his head. "Everything is going to be okay."
Pairing: Remmick x fem!reader
Rating: 18+
Summary: Remmick has been watching you for a while. And Remmick gets what Remmick wants.
Word Count: 1356
CW: dubcon, aphrodisiac spit, coercion, stalking, bondage, oral (m! receiving), belly bulge, slight monster! Remmick
A/N: Happy Birthday @spikedfearn!! Thank you so much for the discord server, because without it I never would have met some of my best friends. Thank you also to @sinfulteeth for beta-ing!
He had been following you long enough to learn your schedule; Monday to Friday slogging away at your job that you seemed to hate but refused to leave. Saturday mornings you would go to the local coffee shop religiously and read your books while sipping cold coffee, regardless of the weather.
He'd even gotten close enough to know what kind of book you read. The kind you couldn't pull out on a city bus full of children and older adults, the kind that the bookstore clerks side eyed while checking you out.
The kind with morally questionable love interests who kidnapped the heroine, tied her up, and fucked her until her throat was sore from screaming and his cum leaked out of her.
Remmick thought that was especially interesting.
He didn't even have an issue getting into your apartment, on account of the dumb Welcome mat you had sitting next to the clearly fake rock that hid your house key.
All he had to do was wait.
"You just have to calm down," Remmick told you, standing in front of you. He had jumped you the second you had walked in the door. Didn't just jump you, no, he grabbed your jaw in such a way that forced your mouth open and spit right into your mouth. He immediately closed it before you could scream or attempt to spit back.
You felt disgusted, violated.
Before you could fully think, he had tied up and dropped you onto the end of the chaise in the living room.
"You jus' gotta wait, darlin'," he said in a poor attempt to calm you down. You tried to think about what he meant by "waiting", but you were having a hard time focusing. You swallowed, forcibly blinked in an attempt to push the brain fog away. Did you leave the heat on when you left this morning?
You didn't feel… right? No, that wasn't quite right, you didn't feel normal. Something felt different, but the longer you tried to pinpoint it, the farther away you got. It felt like you were trying to reach something in a dream. Were your eyes this heavy a minute ago?
Was Remmick this hot when you'd initially seen his face?
"Wha-" You tried to ask, a thin trail of drool falling from your mouth. You felt like it was harder to breathe, harder to think- maybe if you didn't have so many clothes on it wouldn't be this difficult. You tried to squirm, as if you could simply move enough to remove your pants. On a particularly big movement, the seam of your jeans caught you just right, and you stifled a gasp. When the fuck did you get so wet?
You made eye contact with Remmick and found his eyes dilated, mouth slightly open. If you had been more cognizant, you would have recognized the string of drool from his mouth matched the one from yours a moment earlier.
"What's- what's going on?" You managed to breath out, your voice hoarser than you realized. You swallowed again.
"Aw, you're gettin' there darlin', you just needed a lil' help, is all," he said, his thumb stroking your cheek. When did he get so close to you? His fingers were curled around your head and into your hair, but they felt almost… sharper than they should have. Almost like claws.
He was close enough that you could see his eyes were no longer blue but a glowing red, and his teeth were sharper than you initially remember them being.
He was definitely close enought that you could see him pressing into his trousers. This time you audibly gulped, and his eyes followed yours to where you were staring. He chuckled.
"Oh I can definitely help you with that," he said, keeping his hand on your cheek while the other undid his belt. The clicking was the only sound in the room, apart from both of your heavy breathing.
Remmick unzipped and pulled himself out. He was hard as a rock and thick, a bead of precum on the head. Your mouth watered. Before he could move any closer, you spit on him.
He froze for half a second, clearly shocked by your action. He blinked and grinned, his fangs on full display. Your heart skipped a beat and your cunt throbbed.
He moved closer to you, holding himself at the base. He stopped and stared at you purposefully. You huffed and scooched yourself closer and closer, each time the seam of your jeans rubbed your clit just right and you moaned every time it did.
You stuck out your tongue and made contact before your mouth did, tracing a line from underneath, up and around through the slit, catching precum as you went. Remmick moaned loudly. If you didn't have as much brain fog, you might have noticed his self-control slip dramatically.
You didn't waste time, putting your mouth on him as soon as you could, hollowing your cheeks and sucking. His hand flew to your hair and pulled hard, then a little more gentle when you made a noise. You bobbed your head back and forth, taking a little more of him into your mouth each pass. He was bigger than any man you'd ever had before, but you would be damned if you didn't get him all the way in.
Your nose pressed against his skin, and he smelled like sweat and blood and something dark, something that was probably uniquely him. You took a shallow breath through your nose and swallowed.
"Oh fuck," Remmick exclaimed, pulling on your hair. "Nah I'm not cumming anywhere except inside your wet cunt." You throbbed and clenched around nothing, whining.
Before you even knew what was happening, Remmick had picked you up from the chaise and laid you on the hardwood floor. He didn't even bother attempting to undo your pants, and instead slashed them with his claws. In the morning, you'd find scratches that bled on your thighs, but right now you couldn't bring yourself to care about anything other than his cock inside of you.
Contrarily, he gently peeled off your underwear, a thin string of slick sticking to them. You didn't think you'd ever been so wet in your life.
Then he was on top of you, holding himself up with one arm as he lined himself up with the other to slide home. He bent your legs and your knees pressed into your chest. It felt like it was almost hard to breathe in this angle, but you couldn't focus on anything other than how close he was to your cunt.
The tip of his dick caught in you and your breath immediately stuttered, your pussy sucking him inside. He thrust in and out slowly, the same way you had with your mouth, getting deeper and deeper each time, until finally he was completely inside of you. Even with you being as wet as you were, he was big, and it felt like he was deep inside of your chest.
"Oh look at that," he breathed, and you followed with your eyes to where he was staring. He thrust in particularly hard, and your stomach bulged with the weight of him. Your breath caught again.
"Takin' me like you were made fer me," he told you, and thrust again hard, forcing the bulge again. He pressed down with his hand this time, and it hit a spot inside of you that made you see fireworks. You threw your head back onto the hardwood, ignoring the pain that burst forward. He had barely been inside of you, hadn't touched you before that, and already it felt like you were able to cum harder than you ever felt possible.
He moved his hand from your stomach to your clit and circled once, twice, and then you came with a gasp, gushing around his dick and onto his thighs. You made a noise that was vaguely a sob, then a choked out "please don't stop".
"Oh!" Remmick chuckled and tutted, continuing to bully your cunt with his thick dick.
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