Demi Imagines 2.0

Attention

You're at home waiting for a package to arrive...

"Where the fuck is it?" you groan, and Demi comes into the room.
"I'm right here, geez."
"Not you," you laugh, and she gasps in mock-shock.
"You're my wife—you should always want me!"
"I can want other things, too," you respond, trying not to laugh.
"No. You can only want me," she retorts, coming over to you and straddling you on the couch.
Fuck, why is she like this.
You bite your lip as she puts her hands on your shoulders. She's by no means dressed in a sexy way, but she's Demi. Even with her hair a mess and makeup off, she looks like a sex icon.
"Is that so?" you question as she leans forward slightly.
"Of course," she says, moving even closer. She brings her face to your neck before kissing your skin gently. You bite your lip as she drags her lips along your neck and shoulder. She slips your shirt to the side, allowing her better access.
You move your hands to her hips, and she moves even closer. She moves to kiss you, and you smile against her.
Her lips are soft against yours, and you can taste something sweet on her.
She bites your bottom lip gently, making you shiver. You dig your fingertips into her hips, and she wraps her arms around your neck.
You love kissing her. Something about her is almost like a drug. You always want to touch her. She tugs on your bottom lip before kissing you again.
"You still want that package when you've got this one?" she whispers against you.
"Mmmm yes," you reply, and she groans.
"No," she tells you. "That's illegal. You can find yourself another wife," she says, moving to get up.
You whine and hold her in place. "Don't go."
"You need to learn to care about only me," she says dramatically, almost laughing herself.
"You're still my number one priority," you assure her.
That's when the doorbell rings.
"Get the fuck off me," you tell her, practically shoving her off before running to the door.
You can hear her whining behind you, but you ignore her and open the door.
You take the package from the delivery man and go back into the living room.
She's sitting on the floor, her arms crossed as she glares at you.
"Number one priority my ass," she snorts, and you laugh lightly.
"Yes, your ass is my number one priority," you tell her, and she bursts into laughter.
"I hate you."
"Love you, too," you respond, ripping open the package.
"Pay attention to me!" she whines.
"In a minute," you reply, getting out the book and tossing aside the packaging.
"Now!" she cries, standing up and coming over to you.
"Later," you respond, but she takes the book from your hand and puts it on the table.
"Now," she repeats, putting her hands on your hips.
You smirk and lean in, pressing your lips to hers. You tangle your hands in her hair as she pulls you closer.
"I love you," she mumbles.
She can be so annoying, but she's also so perfect.
You smile as you say, "I love you more."

A/N
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