Summary: It’s grey sweatpants season and the reader hates it.
Warnings: Smut and Fluff
A/N: My first Florian fic and I’m excited. Also I wrote this in a day. I needed to get it out of my head. It’s inspired by this pic!
Smoke filled Florian’s lungs soon as he entered the house. He thought nothing of it because you were known to have candles burning around the house, but his assumption was wrong. Instead he found you in the living room, standing over a trash can containing fire and his grey sweats in your hands.
“What is this, Y/N?”
Flo’s amused voice caused you to look up. “This is me burning these fuck ass sweats!”
Automatically, Flo tried to rip the sweats from your grip, but you uncharacteristically moved too fast for him. Exhaling a deep sigh, Florian was already over your theatrics. “Why do you wanna burn them in the first place? You’re the one who bought em for me.”
Digging into your back pocket, you fished for your phone. When you retrieved it, you opened instagram and went to your boyfriend’s latest post. “Because of this,” you grunted, shoving the phone in his face.
Florian smirked at the image before him. It was him in the very sweats that you threatened to burn, lounging in the hotel lobby. “I see nothing wrong with this picture.”
You snatched back your phone and repeated him. “You see nothing wrong!? Everything is wrong with this picture. You out here in a tight-ass grey sweat suit and posting thirst traps!”
“So, what I’m hearing is that you think I’m sexy?” Flo donned a smug ass smile.
Upset that Florian was joking, you released a frustrated grunt and move his clothes closer to the fire. “I swear god, Florian I will burn these shits!” And just like a switch, Flo’s face turned emotionless, just on the edge of deadly. “Do it,” he responded before walking off.
With his sudden departure, Flo left you stunned. You didn’t think he would give in so easily, so that’s why you never got the chance to actually burn the sweats. In a moment’s notice, Florian return and he had one of your dresses in his hand. It wasn’t just any ole dress, it was the dress you planned to wear for your birthday. Flo extended his arm and dangled your dress dangerously close to the flames. “You burn my sweats and I’ll burn this dress.” Florian stated with no ounce of humor in his voice.
“WHAT? That’s not fair! I haven’t even worn it yet!” Flo shrugged his shoulders, showing you no remorse. He had to get that bratty attitude out of you. “I don’t care. Remember I was there when you tried it on, and it shows too much cleavage and a little too short. So, I know when you go out with your girls, you’ll be acting a damn fool on snapchat, almost showing all your goodies. Who will be the thirst trap then?”
You stood there fuming, because you knew Flo was right. You and your friends already knew y’all gonna get drunk as hell and that most likely would be twerking for the camera. But you didn’t want to give the giant you called a boyfriend the satisfaction, so you stood there defiantly inching his clothes closer to the flames.
Raising his eyebrows and giving you his hard stare that you could feel in the pit of your stomach, Florian growled, “Prinţesă.”
That pet name was meant as a warning and grumbly you took heed. Grabbing the bucket of water next to the trash can, you doused the fire. As soon as you set that bucket down, you found yourself upside down and facing the ground.
Florian had thrown you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Pissed that he was carrying you around like a caveman, you were beating against his back until he told you, “You better fucking stop or I’ll make sure you can’t walk for a week.” Instantly, you complied because you knew how hard it was to sit down for a day after one of Florian’s punishments.
When Flo got to your bedroom, he dumped you on your feet and ripped your clothes in half. Then, he sat on the edge of the bed and flip you over his knees, baring your nude ass to him. “You tell me the real reason why you’re so upset over that picture while I’m spanking this fat ass and you’ll tell me like you would if we were cuddling on the couch. If I so much hear you stutter or try to go faster, I’ll make you start from the beginning. Understand?”
“Yes, daddy”
Once the first smack came down, you had to stop yourself from moaning and begin your story. You told Florian of how you got a couple of dm’s about how lucky you were and that you weren’t woman enough to handle Florian, but that didn’t really bother you. It was your next-door neighbor that had some dumb shit to say. When Florian came back home from the hotel, she noticed his dick print and she had the nerve to tell you if you couldn’t handle all that dick, she could help you out.
“On your knees,” Flo ordered, when you finished your story. His monster of a cock was pulled out, dripping precum by the time you got settled on your knees. “Hands behind your back and suck,” he ordered once more.
Thanks to being with him for a while, you gotten used to Florian’s size and were able to fit all of him in your mouth, barely triggering your gag reflex. “Fuck,” Flo uttered, as he stroked your hair. “Look at how well you’re taking my dick. And you really let some dumb fucks make you doubt yourself. Whose dick is this?” Florian asked, ripping you away from his dick by grabbing a fistful of your hair.
“Mines,” you declared.
“Damn right it is,” Flo claimed, before he bit down of your bottom lip. And without warning, he laid you flat on your stomach, putting all his weights on his arms and plowed into you. You grateful that he didn’t begin you in all fours, because you would’ve ended flatten out anyway. His thrusts were punishing and loving at the same time. He knew you needed to be reminded that all he wanted was you.
Florian wrapped his arm around your waist and lifted you up, while his other hand went to put three fingers in your mouth. As your back was flushed against his chest, he murmured, “God, you were made just for me, prinţesă. I love you so much. Don’t you ever forget that.” And with those final words and a couple more pumps, Florian had you both cumming at the same time.
Still deep inside you, Florian moved both of you to lay down on your sides. “Next time you’ll talk to me before you try to burn my clothes,” he asked, his voice laced with humor.
Moving your head side-to-side as if in deep thought, you finally answered, “I’ll think about it.”
Rolling his eyes to the ceiling, Florian whispered, “Brat,” before sleep claimed both of you.
