#hard as hell to draw this little man's head.
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Nursing Home AU, from the list of reverse tropes
DNF, ~1.7k words, fun little drabble as a break from finals :33
George’s walker catches on a stray piece of carpet and he grumbles, waving off the nearby nurse who turns her head toward him. He can handle this himself, thank you very much.
He straightens his back as he nears the door that he knows opens to the room just above his, all the complaints he’s built up in the weeks since his upstairs neighbors moved in at the tip of his tongue as he raises a fist to knock, grunting slightly at the way his shoulder creaks with the effort.
After three quick, hard knocks that he’s sure will be audible through whatever hearing impairment burdens the person behind the door, he studies the decorations with a careful eye. There are unframed pictures scattered across the door, some close to falling off the weak adhesives that secure them. George has to hold himself back from pressing them back down, telling himself that whoever is pictured in them probably deserves to have their treasured family pictures swept up by the night workers.
Because they’ve made George’s life a living hell.
He didn’t think his time in a nursing home could get any worse, until this neighbor moved in. It was like they had bricks attached to the bottoms of their shoes and frequently performed tap dancing routines, or like they had a particularly rambunctious pet elephant that traipsed around the place at all hours of the day.
George had done his best to be patient. He really had, but it’d been long enough. He’s dealing with this here, and now.
As if summoned by his thoughts, the door handle turns, and the solid wood slowly eases open towards him. He shuffles back to avoid being hit, because he doesn’t exactly trust them to be caring of his health now.
The deep frown that he’s been wearing since he was awoken that morning by thundering footsteps directly above his bed shifts to something softer when he sees the man opening the door.
The first thing George notices about him are the eyes- a golden yellow that he knows is really green, set in a kind face weathered with smile lines. The second thing George notices is that he does not, in fact, have bricks attached to his shoes, and that brings the frown right back to his face.
“Uh- Hello. How can I help you?” the man asks, and he sounds nice enough. George thinks it’s an elaborate front.
“Are you aware,” George starts, bringing his eyes up from the mans shoes. “That there are people living below you?”
He blinks. “It would be pretty weird if they didn’t, yeah?”
“So you are aware them,” George clears his throat, crossing his arms. “That you should consider that before stomping around up here like a bull with dementia?”
George almost finds it satisfying, to watch the way his expression goes from open and friendly to sour, the way his stance comes to mirror George’s, down to the crossed arms.
“So it’s a sin for a man to walk around his own house now is it?” he says, and George finds it hard to take him seriously with the ridiculous hat covering silvery hair- it’s pointed at the corners, taking a shape similar to the ears of a cat. “Just turn down your hearing aids.”
“Don’t need them,” George says curtly, rubbing a finger over the skin of his left ring finger, a habit he hadn’t dropped since his divorce. It draws his eyes to the same place on the man across from him, and he notices that he wears no ring either. “And it is a sin if you’re disrupting my sleep.”
He looks ready to argue back, but his eyes dart down to the movement of George’s finger, and he seems to change his mind. “Listen if you want to debate the bible, the lady three doors down can go for hours. Let’s say, instead, you come in for a cup of hot chocolate. Get all your complaining out.”
George shifts on his feet, feeling his hip pop as he does, and it reminds him that sitting down sometime soon would be nice….
“Fine. But if there’s no vodka in that chocolate I’m stealing something.”
With a small smile that makes George’s heart flutter in a way it hasn’t in decades, the man steps aside, pushing the door all the way open. “I’m Dream, by the way. I don’t think you introduced yourself.”
“George,” he replies as he steps forward, struggling for a moment to lift his walker over the edge between the hall and Dream’s carpet. “Strange name.”
Dream laughs, and George is distracted from looking over every inch of his apartment when a small animal appears, walking with its tail held high.
“You have a cat,” he observes, and Dream turns from where he’d been pouring milk to heat up. George sets his walker to the side as he ever so carefully crouches down to pet the thing, smiling to himself when it purrs.
“He likes you,” Dream says, and there’s a note of fondness in his voice. “That’s Spirit. He probably hates my stomping just as much as you do.”
“Oh, you’re a smart one then, aren’t you,” George coos, rubbing under the cats chin. He’s a big cat, with long orange fur and some spots of gray on his muzzle, and ridiculously long whiskers that tickle where they brush against George’s leg. “You ought to bite him more. Maybe piss on his bed,” George says in a faux whiper, leaning down as much as he can.
“Oh, so now you’re trying to turn my cat against me?” Dream says, and George nearly jumps from the sudden proximity. “Need a hand up?”
George huffs, glaring at the offered hand but taking it anyway, groaning loudly as he stands. “So you can walk quietly,” he grumbles, eyeing the distance between he kitchenette and his current position.
“Only when I want to” Dream says with a wink, and George really wishes he still had his own cane- a much better weapon. “Come here, sit down before I have to call someone to help you. God forbid that new one- what’s her name- Rosa, god forbid she shows up. She’d have you on the ambulance in a matter of minutes.”
George laughs, following as Dream leads him to a chair in the living area, acutely aware of their still connected hands. “She on this floor too? Sent my neighbor to hospice for a cough. Haven’t seen her since.”
As George lowers himself onto the chair, Dream still doesn’t let his hand go, and George can feel a blush, of all things, creeping up his neck and staining his face.
“You planning to hold my hand forever, or-” George suggests, just as the microwave beeps. “Don’t tell me you microwaved the milk.”
“How else would I do it?” Dream asks, pulling his hand back and turning back to his microwaved milk. “You want peppermint?”
“I want vodka. And I don’t know, on the stove, maybe?”
“Too much work,” Dream says cheerily, and George sighs, long and exaggerated.
He looks around Dream’s living space as he waits, noting the various pictures with his seemingly excessively large family. It’s not the only thing he’s looking for, but he can’t help but notice the lack of any sort of spouse.
“Snooping around already?” Dream asks as he returns, two steaming mugs in his hands. “You could probably find my whole life’s story on these walls.”
George meets his eye as he hands a mug over, wrapping his easily chilled hands around it gratefully. Dream takes the chair opposite his, and watches as George takes his first sip. As much as he wants to hate whatever microwaved monstrosity is swirling in the mug, he has to admit that it tastes damn good.
“‘T’s good,” he says into the mug, not missing the way Dream’s face lights up at the admission. “Family recipe?”
“Nope, all mine,” Dream says with a grin. “Come on, I know you have questions. Hit me.”
George hums, making a show of thinking it over. The burning question feels too obvious, and too revealing. He’s only just met this man a few minutes ago, he shouldn’t be asking about his love life. And yet-
“No wife?” he asks bluntly, taking a big sip right after.
Dream laughs, setting his own mug aside as he leans forward, planting his elbows on his knees. “Nope. Never settled down. Always felt like I was chasing something just out of reach, like I needed to wait until the perfect person came along. And now look at me,” he laughs again, this time sounding more forced. “Left in a home to die alone. Probably doesn’t help I only realized it wasn’t a wife I should have been looking for what, ten years ago?”
George leans back in his chair, studying Dream in a new light. “Trust me, men aren’t worth it either. My husband filed for divorce, what, 20 years back? Never even bothered to tell me why. One day there, the next, gone. Took everything too.”
“That why you ended up in Florida? Don’t meet many British people around here.”
“Wanted to die under the sun,” George says easily, the alcohol warming his veins. “London was too grey, too many memories. I always loved it here.”
They sit in silence for a bit after that, only broken by Spirit jumping up to George’s lap with a loud meow.
“So no kids?” George asks, easing one of Spirit’s big paws away from where it’s kneading at his shorts, claws digging into his skin.
“You’ve got the only one on your lap,” Dream says. “Well, grandkid, technically. His mom was mine too.”
George nods, tangling his fingers in the long fur. “You ever think about second chances?”
“I think I’m on third’s by now,” Dream chuckles, meeting George’s eyes curiously. “Why, you rethinking the way you introduced yourself?”
“In your dream’s,” George says with a grin. “But I wouldn’t mind coming over again- to tell you off, probably.”
“And to pet my cat. And drink my vodka.”
“That too,” George nods. “Might need to visit a lot, then.”
“Well,” Dream shifts in his seat, and he appears to be fighting off a smile. It still reaches his eyes, and George can’t help but think of the man he sees on the walls- happy, glowing. Hopeful. “Then I guess I’d have to let you in. As an apology for the stomping.”
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You know that annoying "redeemed by a Good Woman/redeemed by puss" troupe?
I just remembered Match :Dc
Kon's evil Clone twin. The one where they actually SUCCEEDED and he's totally down to kill Superman and is also super unstable physically etc.
But consider!
Secret Relationship! Bats are paranoid after all. Can't let our enemies or Dads know we're dating! Or fuuuuuckin.
So when the switch happens? And "Superboy" gets a nasty blow to the head that gives him spotty memory? Of COURSE his... "Best Friend"(tm) wink wink nudge nudge, is gonna take care of him. The whole team obviously knows. But no one else does.
So Match has no idea what's happening.
Has he been Made? THAT FAST? Shit, Bats really ARE something else. Better kill hi-... why is he hugging me? This... IS a hug, right? He's never had one before. It's not awful.
And so Match keeps pretending to be Kon. Slowly gets "better". Forgot a lot about Robin and their Relationship, of course, so they have to start basicly over. But isn't Rob the BEST? So patient! Hand holding. Cuddles. Tender kisses.
Hand jobs.
It blows Match's MIND. This? This is fantastic. No one tells him what to do, treats him like an animal, calls him an "it", and?? He gets all these soft touches and kisses? Robin's even talking about maybe having sex "again"!
Fuck. He is TOTALLY stealing the other clone's Life. RIP to that guy. His now.
Except? No The Fuck You Don't, Bitch(tm). Kon is actively waging a one man war against his captors. Fuck these guys. Luthor in particular. He has a boyfriend to get back too and a Usurper to curbstomp. Or fuck. Depends on how hot he is and if he's a dick. Kon DOES have a well known incest kink.
Might keep him.
But back with Match? B-be gentle with him Robin~ *bats eyelashs* *shoulder smack* they're doing the whole shebang. Cabin by a lake. Pizza and dancing. Sparkling grape juice since booze won't effect "kon" anyway.
Just? Everything Tim can think off to make it fun and memorable. He even remembered lube this time, because NOW he knows Kon is too big to take without a little help. It's like a do-over, almost.
It's ALSO the moment Match's loyalties completely fuckin switch. Ride or Die with THIS guy, specifically. [Robin has given Match: The Sex. Match will now willingly die for Robin.]
It's a literally life-changing First Time for Match and a Really Good for Tim. Laughing and tired from dancing, hands roaming each other's bodies, lazily finding what feels good. Tim sighing in pleasure, a pretty little roll of his body arching his back, as he let's his legs fall wide. Smiles at Match.
His hands still loosing hugging Match close, his kissable lips, soft in a lazy grin. The body under Match relaxed and full of trust. Touching him back. Just to feel his skin, too make him feel good too. Looking at him like he's wonderful. Like he's worth loving.
IS Loved.
Match wants to worship this. Steal it away. To hell with the world and "saving" it. He uses a brain meant for grand battle strategies, to memories every twitch and squeeze around his rocking fingers. What makes Rob feel good. What makes him feel BETTER.
Kisses his way down.
Gentle. Careful, so careful. He has so much strength.
He wishes he could suck, but doesn't trust himself. Luckily his tounge draws delight anyway. He let Rob roll them. Feels cradled, between those thighs, as Rob desperately rides his face.
Takes so much control for Rob to stop. He's shaking with it. He wants to continue so BAD. But wants Match's cock more. So Match gets passed the lube. Blindly fumbles to get ready.
He hears something, flying. Probably a plane. Not important. Robin's important. Lifts him so EASY. Feels him shudder, turned on by how easy Match moves him. They line up, and Match slides in like he's always been there. He has to let go or his grip will get too tight. Amazing. Wet, hot, soft... w-words... he can't...
And THAT'S when he gets a sharp stab to the arm with an injecter and a Smiling But PISSED, grabbed-by-the-throat-hard-enough-to-break-the-bed-frame Slam from ACTUAL Kon. Who has escaped.
And found Match in bed with his boyfriend.
The injector has the stabilizing agent they were withholding. The choke hold however? That's for him. Sup, buuuuuddy. Enjoying my boyfriend? Yeah, he DOES feel good. I would know!
Give me a reason not to kill you where you lay :)
Tim is confused as hell. Still horny. But very alarmed. Two Kons? One is clearly NOT Kon. Please tell him it's not the one he's in bed with. He does NOT want to be a cheater! Kon he would NEVER cheat! (Kon knows.)
Match... offers to switch sides? He would kill for Tim. Die for him. Is in love. Wants to be a person. Is mildly to moderately insane but can TOTALLY promise to keep a lid on his Crazy.
.....also this is kinda hot. Wanna make out? Do you think Tim would enjoy that?
Kon? Is basicly? Yyyyyep. That's a 'Me but fucked up' alright! Unfortunate. Hot though. Let's keep him. He's like one of those really, really ugly dogs you kinda can't help but falling in love with.
Tim? Still impaled on SOMEBODY'S dick and just wants to know what's going the fuck on. Face in his hands. Why is he dating this asshole? Why!? *gets smoochs* oh, right. Tim loves him.
Damn it.
Fine! Fuck it! Both of you, I GUESS, get over here. Time to live out some of those fantasies Tim's had but couldn't do with only one boyfriend. Kon! Naked! You! Name? Match. Okay, Match? Move your hips! *vigorous sex noises!!!*
And so they threesome it out! Until Tim can no longer keep up. Then Match n Kon pull on pants and blow up some bases, get pizzas, and come back for "round two". It's a great week!
Tim ends up on bedrest. Looks vaguely mauled. But with a delightfully dewy well-fucked shine~ to complexion.
-🐼🐼🐼
sex with tim getting ppl to stop being evil😍😍😍!
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screwed up and brilliant - matty healy
(mdni) in which your whirlwind summer takes a turn you never could have predicted. part two of white and gold. 16185 words.
warnings (here we go): daddy kink (obvs), phone sex, authority kink, roleplay, dom/sub dynamics, mean dom!matty, spanking, semi-public sex, gagging, oral (f receiving), mentions of anal, vague allusions to parental fuckery
The singular thought circling through your head the entire way home is what the fuck. If it weren’t for the soreness in your muscles, the bruises on your thighs and your embarrassing lack of underwear, you’d believe you dreamt the whole thing. You stop the taxi a little ways down your street, trying not to draw attention to yourself returning from your unbelievable night. It’s not like your parents would know exactly where you’ve been, but you’d rather save yourself the embarrassment of getting caught coming home from a hookup.
It turns out you didn’t need to worry, though, your footsteps echoing through an empty house as you let yourself in the back. Checking your phone for the first time since you left the dinner with Matty, critically low battery and a text from your mother flash up at you. We’ve gone out for lunch at the Dove. Love you x, the text informs you, a sense of guilty relief washing over you. There’s few things you love more than your house being empty; your shoulders loose without your mother’s nervous, slightly oppressive energy and your father’s meaningful and disappointed glances. Your steps are light as you waltz up the stairs to your room, flinging open your wardrobe to start getting ready before you realise you don’t know what you should be dressing for.
You tip out your clutch onto the bed, business cards, lipgloss and a forgotten pair of earrings spilling on your sheets as you dig for Matty’s number. Tapping the keyboard idly, you try to think of a good opening message, inspiration striking as you catch sight of a discarded bra on your bedroom floor. You slip into a favourite set, black with gold detailing and leaving very little to the imagination, and pose in your bedroom mirror, texting the photo to Matty.
hi x
trying to get ready but i don’t know what to wear :( where are we going?
Fucking hell
Hi, pretty girl
You could wear that and I’d be a very happy man
yeah i bet you would
answer the question perv
I don’t want to spoil the surprise
if you don’t tell me im changing
Fine
Brat
It’s nice but relaxed
Youre not dressing for dinner its not that hard
rude
pick me up in an hour ;)
You turn back to your wardrobe with a groan — what the fuck does he mean by nice but relaxed? A skirt and a nice top? Heels or no heels? What are you supposed to do with your hair? Leafing through your clothes, you find a green sundress tucked away near the back, a vintage treasure you’d picked up at a market a few years ago and promptly forgotten about. By some stroke of luck, it fits perfectly, the skirt swirling gorgeously around your calves. Your reflection grins back at you as you dust on some makeup, finding a dangling pair of jade earrings to match.
Exactly on cue, your phone rings, flashing up Matty’s contact. “Hi, love. I’m outside — well, as close as I dare, anyway. I’m on a double yellow, actually. Risking my spotless driving record for you.”
You snort. “They’ve gone out, park in the drive. I’ll come to the door.” You pad down the stairs as Matty’s tyres crunch on the gravel outside. Smoothing down your hair nervously, you take a deep breath, the blurry outline of him visible through the stained glass of your front door. You swing the door open as Matty raises his fist to knock, giggling slightly at the way he stands, his hand hovering meaninglessly in midair.
His eyes blow wide as he takes you in, crowding you close in a split-second. “Hi, princess,” he grins, electricity tingling under your skin where he holds you by the waist, his body pressed against yours. “If nobody’s home, I can do this,” he breathes, catching your lips and kissing you deeply, licking into your mouth like a starving man.
After a long moment, you find the strength to push him away. “Matty, the neighbours!” you protest.
“Fine,” Matty says, walking you inside and kicking the door shut behind him. He pulls you back to him, catching your lips in a filthy kiss, a slide of lips and tongue, sticky with desire. Groaning into your mouth, his lips fall to your neck, pressing kisses over the concealed bruises on your neck. You can tell he wants to cover them, mark you up as his own, and you giggle as you push his head back.
“Do we have to go to lunch?” you tease. “They’re not gonna be back for hours.”
Matty pinches your ass through your skirt. “Needy girl. You’ll love the place, I promise.” Slowly, like it pains him, he lets go of you and steps back, eyes widening as he properly takes in the sight of you for the first time. “God, you look gorgeous, princess. You look like summer.” You flush, shifting on your feet and glancing at the floor. “Can’t believe I get to have you. You know everyone who sees you is gonna be fuckin’ jealous of me, gonna want my pretty girl for themselves?” He looks livid at the mere prospect, a muscle jumping in his jaw.
You giggle. “But I’ll be there with you. Why would I want anyone else?” you assure him, stretching up to kiss at the corners of his mouth until he cracks a smile. Your chest aches a little at the sight, a private moment of happiness stretching between you. You can almost see the path along with it, a brief flicker of a life with him dancing in your imagination before you swat it away.
Fuck, you’re in too deep. You’re hurtling towards a vast expanse of something, and you don’t even have the strength to look away. You can only hope the breakneck pace isn’t going to break your heart, too.
“That’s right,” Matty says, after what feels like an eternity. “All mine, yeah? Shall we?”
You nod, not yet trusting yourself to speak, and take his hand, sliding into the passenger seat of his car. The smell of clean leather envelops you, mixed with Matty’s now-familiar cigarettes and cologne smell. Matty’s hand lands on your thigh and traces absent circles as he reverses out of the drive. The streets roll by, rows of houses all merging together, your eyes glazing over while you avoid Matty’s gaze. “So pretty, baby,” he murmurs. “My pretty little passenger princess.”
“Does that mean you’ll drive me anywhere I want?” you tease, finally bringing your gaze back to Matty. The afternoon light casts him in a soft glow, his curls ruffling in the gentle breeze. He taps his fingers absently on the wheel, a sick thrill running through you as you remember feeling them on your skin, thighs clenching needily under his touch. You slide a hand between his legs, smirking at the hiss he lets out when you palm gently over his cock. “Promise I’ll make it worth your while,” you add teasingly, plying him with wide, innocent eyes.
Matty chuckles darkly and returns his other hand to the wheel, your skin impossibly cold in the absence his touch leaves behind. “You gonna get me off right here? In the car with the windows down? Such a naughty girl.” He inclines his head as if to say go on, calling your bluff, and you lower your gaze and return your hand to your lap, subdued. “That’s what I thought. Don’t make promises you can’t keep, princess.”
You shrug. “Wouldn’t want to taint your spotless driving record,” you tease, and he tips back his head and laughs, the sound filling the car and wrapping around you, your head going fuzzy with affection. A few minutes later, Matty puts the car in park, leaning over the centre console to kiss you. His hand comes up to cup your jaw, thumbing lightly over your cheek and smiling against your lips. Ever the gentleman, he comes to the passenger side to let you out, and you take his arm and let him lead you inside.
“Afternoon,” Matty greets the maître d’ with a polite smile. “Healy for two, one thirty?”
“Ah, yes, right this way, sir,” he says, his eyes flickering curiously over you as he leads you through the restaurant.
His gaze lands judgmentally on Matty when he tugs you into him by the waist, and you bristle, deliberately planting a kiss on his cheek as you walk. “Would you like to sit inside or outside?” the maître d’ asks in a tone that suggests he’d rather be anywhere else.
“Can we sit outside, please? It’s such a nice day,” you say, and Matty grins indulgently down at you. He inclines his head at the maître d’, who leads you into the restaurant’s courtyard. Your jaw drops at the oasis you’ve suddenly found yourself in, lush green dotted through with glass tables, quiet chatter undercut with the splash of a dancing water fountain.
“This place is gorgeous,” you say as Matty pulls out your chair for you. “Do you come here a lot?”
He sees right through you, smirking over his menu. “I’ve never brought a girl here,” he tells you, answering the question you’re really asking.
“You keep saying that,” you say thoughtfully. “No bullshitting this time, what makes me so special?”
Matty meets your eyes, holding your gaze deadly serious. “I don’t date a lot, princess,” he tells you. “The girls that I… spend time with…” Your jaw clenches. “They’re not… Well, I need to feel a connection, you know? And I hadn’t felt it in a long time. I was kind of starting to give up hope,” he huffs a quiet laugh, a soft smile crossing his face when he speaks. “And then I met you, and I could just feel it.” He’s gazing adoringly at you, and you suddenly wonder if maybe it’s okay that you’re in too deep, because maybe, just maybe, he’s right there with you.
“Matty, I—”
“Good afternoon!” a bright, falsely cheery voice cuts in. “Are you both ready for drinks?”
Annoyed at the interruption, you purse your lips and address Matty. “I don’t know… What do you think I should get?” you grin, deliberately playing up the affection, leaning towards him and batting your lashes.
“I don’t know, darling. Are you feeling like wine?”
“I can come back,” the waitress says, all pretence at cheer abandoned as she taps her pencil against her notepad impatiently.
Rolling your eyes, you wave a hand at her. “No, stay. Just give me a minute to decide, ‘kay?” You scan the menu and deliberately order the most expensive rosé with a smirk in Matty’s direction. He shrugs, ordering himself a Malbec, and the waitress finally buzzes off.
It feels inappropriate to return to your conversation after the interruption, and you chuckle awkwardly. The breeze ripples in the silence between you, pulling clouds away from the sun so it shines directly into your eyes. Wincing, you shield your face, squinting in a way you’re sure is horrendously unattractive. Matty laughs softly. “Here you go, darling,” he says, pulling his sunglasses off his head and gently resting them on your face. “God, and here I thought you couldn’t get any prettier,” he adds, and you flush, picking at imaginary lint on your dress to avoid his gaze.
“Flatterer,” you scoff, kicking softly at his shin. “Thank you,” you add, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
“S’nothing, princess. Keep ‘em, if you want.” Matty shrugs as if they’re inconsequential, and not a two hundred pound accessory. “Smoke?” he offers as you’re still reeling.
You nod, tilting your head quizzically. “Thought you didn’t want me ruining my lungs?” you tease, slipping the cigarette between your lips.
Matty chuckles. “It’s a beautiful day, you’re getting fresh air, your pretty lungs will survive one,” he teases, flicking his lighter under your cigarette as you take a deep drag.
His gaze lingers meaningfully on you as the smoke curls from your mouth and you squirm. “What?” you ask, desire evident in his eyes; he just keeps fucking staring.
He blinks, shaking his head as if to clear it. “Sorry,” he murmurs. “God, you look fucking hot,” he adds with a chuckle. Just as you go to reply, the waitress returns with your drinks. You give a cursory thanks and take a long sip, full flavour swirling in your mouth. “You know, I wouldn’t have put you down as a dry wine kind of girl,” Matty remarks. “Sweet little thing like you.”
You flush the colour of your wine, but meet his gaze in challenge. “You don’t know everything about me.”
“I’d like to,” he says immediately, and you swallow thickly, his ability to disarm you frustratingly constant. He’s so fucking perfect, it’s actually disgusting. As you’re searching for a response, he perks up, tilting his head to tune into the song playing quietly over some unseen speaker. “Oh, man, I haven’t heard this song in forever,” he gasps, a boyish grin spreading across his face. “I was obsessed with this one when I was younger. Used to be on my band’s setlist and everything.”
Your jaw drops. “You were in a band?” you demand. “Were you any good?”
Matty chuckles. “I’d like to think so. S’a shame it didn’t pan out, really. I would’ve made a great rockstar, don’t you think?” he smirks, visions of Matty clad in a leather jacket, sweaty and gorgeous, crooning into a microphone swimming across your vision.
“Fuck, yeah. I’d have hated fighting your hordes of fangirls for your attention, though,” you sigh, and his grin widens as you stroke his ego. “Were you the guitarist?” you ask, memories of his calloused hands ghosting over your skin.
He scoffs, insulted. “I was the frontman, obviously.”
“Obviously,” you repeat, teasingly blowing smoke in his face as you stub out your cigarette. “But you still play?”
“Yeah,” Matty says, smiling wistfully, the expression taking years off him so clearly that you can almost see the ambitious, idealistic boy he must have been. You hope there’s a world where the band worked out for him, even if it means you’d never have met. “S’just a hobby, though,” he shrugs, interrupting your reverie. “You should hear my mate Hann, he’s fucking wicked.”
Taking a sip of your wine, you sigh meaningfully. “I’ve always wanted to learn how to play the guitar.” You lean purposefully on the words, and Matty grins.
“You want me to teach you?”
You smile blithely. “Oh, please. I can sight read sheet music and everything, I’d be such a good student, Professor,” you add, smirking as he stiffens slightly.
“Oh, behave,” he scolds lightly, tugging at his
collar as if he’s sweating at your words.
“Make me,” you giggle, meeting his eyes in challenge.
“You know I will, princess,” he says seriously, your skin prickling hot as he watches you, daring you to break first. You’re saved from having to, though, by the same waitress coming to take your order. Not even having picked up the food menu, you let Matty order for you, trusting his taste.
As it turns out, his taste is impeccable, down to the steak being cooked exactly the way you like. “God, this is fucking delicious,” you exclaim, digging in eagerly. “This place is amazing,” you add, unable to keep the beaming smile off your face. You chat back and forth for a couple of hours, asking about his family and his childhood, cooing at the stories he tells. If anyone were listening, they’d probably be nauseated by your obscene flirting, getting bolder as Matty continues plying you with wine even as he switches to water.
The same waitress returns, the false cheer bright in her tone as she offers you dessert menus. “No, thanks,” you say without taking your eyes off Matty. “We have dessert at home.” You flash your teeth in a grin so there can be no mistaking your meaning.
Matty picks up the bill, and you don’t even pretend to protest. It’s been years since you’ve been on a date you didn’t have to pay for, guys your age from your circles unusually stingy, and you feel guilty expecting broke college boys to pay for you. And it’s only feminist to split the bill with another girl, anyway. “Dessert, yeah?” he smirks as you slide into the passenger seat, and you squirm.
“I promise I’m just as sweet,” you tease. “Take me to yours and I’ll show you exactly how sweet I can be.”
Matty clicks his tongue. “I don’t think so,” he says, and your stomach sinks. “Good girl like you shouldn’t put out on the first date, or didn’t your daddy teach you any better?” he says, a shit-eating grin plastered across his face.
God, he’s a fucking tease. “You didn’t teach me anything like that, Daddy,” you pout. “You can’t get me all needy looking this hot and not let me have you. S’not fair.” You fold your arms, sulking.
“Oh, angel,” he tuts. “Not figured it out, yet? I don’t have to be fair.” And with that, your fate is sealed, Matty dropping you home and leaning over for a chaste kiss that he resists your attempts to deepen. “I’ll see you soon, princess. You know where to find me,” he promises, your eyes not leaving him until his car turns the corner and disappears from view.
You slope inside, disappointed and unsatisfied, plagued with the thought of where you could be right now if Matty had taken you home with him. Your father’s car is in the drive, and you groan to yourself, utterly uninterested in explaining yourself. Of course, you’re expected to anyways. “Where have you been?” your mother demands, and you fold your arms. If she’d asked out of curiosity, genuine interest, it would be different, but she only wants to know so she can approve or disapprove, sneering consternation written across her face.
“Out,” you say shortly, thick tension pulling taut between you.
“With who?” she asks, lips pursed.
“A friend,” you snap. “God, Mum, I went out for lunch, what’s it to you? I’m a grown-ass woman, I shouldn’t have to ask my mummy for permission to leave the house!”
“Language!” she exclaims, and you roll your eyes and push past her, storming up the stairs and slamming the door, finally breathing easy when the lock on your door forms a decisive barrier between you and your parents. Left alone, it doesn’t take long for your thoughts to drift back to Matty and the ache he left between your thighs. You wonder if he’s home yet, if he’ll want to hear your voice, or if it’s too soon.
You war with yourself for a few minutes, but your desire wins out, calling Matty up and laying back against your pillows. “Hello, darling.” He picks up on the second ring. “Missing me already?”
“Mhm,” you murmur, the mere sound of his voice sending a pulse of desire thrumming through you. “Thinkin’ about you. About how you got me all needy.”
He laughs darkly. “God, what am I going to do with you? Naughty girl can’t even keep her hands to herself for an hour. Are you getting wet for me, angel?”
“Yes,” you moan happily, thrilled to get what you want. “I need you.”
“You beg so pretty, baby,” he coos, grunting softly, and you can just picture him, cock half-hard in his palm as you hear the rustle of clothes dropping to the floor. “C’mon, tell Daddy what you want.”
You whimper, dipping your hand under your waistband, slick pooling against your fingertips. “Wish you were touching me,” you moan. “Could’ve brought me home with you. Could’ve bent me over anywhere you wanted, stuffed me full and fucking used me.”
“Such a slut,” Matty murmurs, faint, slick sounds echoing from the other end of the call as he grunts rhythmically. The image of him makes you dizzy, fisting his cock messily, hips thrusting into his hand. You moan quietly, rubbing slow, tight circles into your clit. “Are you touching yourself?” You murmur an affirmative. “Stop.” Your blood runs cold, like you’ve been doused in ice water.
“Wh- What?” you hiss, disbelieving.
“You heard me, darling. I told you, good girls don’t put out on the first date. Daddy’s teachin’ you manners, yeah?”
“That’s not fair, Daddy,” you whine again. “Don’t need you to tell me when I can get off. Managed just fine before you came along,” you add petulantly.
Matty just laughs. “Okay, baby. I’m sure you did. You could hang up this call right now, get yourself off all on your own. But you won’t,” he says, smugly confident. “You know why? Because Daddy knows what’s best for brats like you. And, really, you just wanna be my good, sweet, dumb little girl, don’t you, angel?”
Thick, choking lust envelops you, crushing the air from your lungs as you find yourself whimpering, “Yes, Daddy. Won’t touch anymore,” you say, your mouth moving without your brain’s say-so.
Your body hums with energy, tense with the knowledge you won’t be allowed to release it. “Good girl,” Matty croons, your chest warming at the praise. “Still gotta punish you for bein’ a brat, though,” he adds, through a soft moan. “Don’t want you touchin’ that pretty cunt without my permission, ‘kay?” Your stomach sinks, arousal flaring impossibly in your gut.
“Okay, Daddy. I’ll be good,” you promise, his appreciative moan sending heat spiralling between your legs. You stay on the call until the sound of Matty spilling into his fist fills your ears, leaving you sticky and fucking throbbing with need. It takes you what feels like forever to get your breathing under control enough that your legs will stop shaking to carry you to the shower. You gasp as you plunge into the freezing cold spray, barely enough to quench the fire rolling through your veins. Unable to resist, you text Matty a picture of yourself when you step out, the steam on the mirror teasingly blurring your wet, naked body.
And that is the last time you hear Matty’s voice for an entire fucking week. There always seems to be some obstacle, a friend’s birthday, or a dinner you’re not invited to, or both of you are up to your eyeballs in pointless, mind-numbing work. You’d almost think he was avoiding you, if not for your constant back-and-forth over text and Matty’s incessant pleas for you to visit him at the office. You resist for a while, terrified of being caught and what that would mean for this… thing… that’s blooming between you, still fragile and new.
But it’s driving you fucking crazy, and you miss him, so after a week, you find an excuse; because you’re a good, dutiful daughter, you’re bringing your father lunch to share after he cancelled your meal out yesterday. You zone out after the same five minutes of talking in circles, giving automatic, robotic responses you know he wants to hear. It would be a lie to say you didn’t breathe a sigh of relief when the lift doors ding shut, carrying you up to Matty’s office. You haven’t told him you’re coming, hoping your presence will be a welcome surprise. What you hadn’t counted on, though, was his bleach-blonde secretary, idly tapping on her keyboard and actively standing in your way.
Your heart sinks. She’s pretty, unbelievably so, and barely older than you. If Matty hasn’t already had her, which you doubt, it’s crossed his mind. What if that’s what he’s been doing, all those times he’s complained about leaving the office late? A vision of her spread out on his desk fills your mind, Matty crooning his sweet, filthy words into her ear as her chest heaves. Her boobs are fake, you decide, your gaze flickering to them. It’s not humanly possible for a pair of tits to be that big and perky at the same time. Pushing down the jealousy roiling in your gut, you step up to her desk. Her eyes sweep over you, unimpressed, and she purses her lips.
You push your shoulders back, letting the snotty, spoiled brat who’s never been told no free, a snide grin spreading across your features. It feels fucking good to exercise that facet of your personality again, having tamped down on it since you went to uni — makes it easier to play well with others. Impatiently, you click your fingers in front of the woman’s face. “I’m here to see Mr. Healy,” you say with a saccharine smile. Sure, you could just call him and tell him you’re outside, but this is so much more fun. Especially now that you get to mess with her head, too. Matty’s never fucked her, but she wants him to, you can tell by the way her face falls when she sees you. Good, you think vindictively. Maybe blondes don’t have more fun. Not with him, at least.
“Do you have an appointment?” she asks, voice nasally and grating.
You sigh, like she’s asking you a ridiculous question. “No, but he’ll want to see me, trust me. Tell him… Tell him Angel is here, yeah?” She looks at you, sceptical and detached. “My parents were hippies, what can you do?” you shrug, raising your eyebrows and flicking your fingers patronisingly at her, as if to say go on. Your gazes lock in a battle of wills for a brief moment, but you grin victoriously when she picks up her phone.
“Hello, sir. There’s a girl out here asking to see you.” The way she says girl feels like a slur dripping from her overglossed lips. “Says her name’s Angel? She doesn’t have an appointment, I can send her away, if you like. Won’t be a problem.”
“No, no, send her in. And, for future reference, she’s welcome anytime, okay? No appointment necessary. Actually, I’ll come get her.” Matty’s voice is faint from the other end of the phone, but distinct enough that you can hear his words and the click as he sets the phone down. Seconds later, he emerges from his office, breaking into a wide grin at the sight of you. “Hello, angel,” he grins, kissing your cheek politely but lingering a little longer than appropriate. “Feels like it’s been forever. Come on in, yeah?” He takes you by the waist and leads you to his office, and you throw a smirk over your shoulder at the secretary as you go, a clear message: I win, you lose. “Oh, and Ruby? Nobody in my office for the next hour, alright?” She flushes as red as her name suggests, glaring at you furiously, trying to tell you this isn’t over. You ignore her, though, because you and Matty are finally alone.
“Only an hour?” you giggle. “You’re losing your touch, sir.”
“Oh, sir, hm? That’s new,” he teases as you perch on his desk, drinking in the sight of him with something dangerously close to relief.
You lean forward. “She wants you. So fucking badly,” you remark.
“I know,” he shrugs, loosening his tie with one hand and stroking your bare thigh with the other.
This time, you let the jealousy bubble up to the surface. “Have you ever fucked her?” You know the answer, but you want to hear him say it.
Matty laughs. “Have you ever heard the expression, don’t shit where you eat?” he asks, and you wrinkle your nose and nod. “Well, that goes double for the young, hot blonde the company dangles in front of you like fucking bait, just waiting for you to cross a line.”
You’re starting to see red, his words nothing close to what you wanted to hear. “But you would. If she didn’t work for you.”
He shrugs. “Maybe.” He grips your hips, sliding you closer to him, dislodging stacks of paper and pens from his desk. “If I didn’t have you.” Then, his fingers creep higher, tantalisingly close to where you want them, and you push down the argument you were about to start. Giving up the best sex you’ve ever had isn’t worth it just because you got a little too possessive over someone who isn’t actually yours.
“She’d never be as good as me,” you say bitterly. “I don’t think a man like you would let a little red tape stop you if you actually wanted her. What’s wrong with her, really?”
Matty smirks. “Jealous girl,” he says smugly. “Don’t wanna talk about her when I could have this,” he adds, rubbing slow, teasing circles into your thigh. You whine softly, arching forward into his touch. “You’d be better than her, yeah? You wanna prove it?” You tilt your head quizzically. “Let’s say you’re my secretary, yeah, baby?”
A thrill runs up your spine. “Yes, sir,” you breathe. You slide off the desk to prop yourself in the chair opposite his, unbuttoning your blouse a little and leaning back with a smirk. “You wanted to see me, sir?” you say, playing up your wide, innocent eyes.
“Yes,” Matty says thoughtfully. “I think we need to discuss your behaviour in my office.” You bite your lip to clamp down on your grin, nodding seriously. “Always in those short little skirts, bendin’ over so you can show off those pretty, lace panties. You wear those for me, don’t you, baby?”
You smirk, popping the buttons of your blouse past decency. “You’re wrong, sir.” You spread your legs wide, and he chokes on his inhale. “I’m not wearing any panties.”
Matty groans, sweeping his desk clear, pens and paper scattering across the floor. “Bend over,” he orders sharply. “Now.”
You stand to obey, then pause. “Wait one second,” you say, darting around the desk so you’re face-to-face. “Just realised I haven’t done this yet.” You sling your arms around his neck and press your lips against his, kissing him hungrily and melting at his touch. Desperately, you try not to dissect the relief flooding your body from the point where his hands meet your skin. “Okay,” you say as you pull back, breathless. “M’ready now.”
Bracing your elbows on the desk, you bend over, baring your dripping cunt as Matty shoves your skirt up your thighs. “Spread your legs for me.” You obey, but he just growls and kicks them further apart, a shocked sound pulling free from your throat. “Wider,” he orders. “Not doin’ such a good job of convincing me you’d be so much better than her, you know,” he says, tone almost conversational if his nails weren’t digging into your hips so hard they’ll bruise.
Angry, red-hot jealousy floods your veins, tangling cruelly with the ball of anticipation winding tight in your core. You can’t decide whether to go lax, let Matty have his good girl, or to fight against him for comparing you to her. It doesn’t take long for the brat to win out. “You want her so bad? Call her in, then,”
You can practically hear Matty’s eyebrows raise, the realisation you won’t let him have this so easily setting in. “You want me to, baby?” He clicks his tongue. “I don’t think so. I think you’re jealous of the pretty girl who sits outside my office all day.” He reaches around to pop another button of your blouse. “And you’re scared of what I might be doing with her when you can’t see.” He pulls your shirt out of the waistband of your skirt and tugs it off your shoulders. “So you want her to know exactly what we’re doing in here, so you can lay some kind of claim on me. Am I right?” Your mind spins as you try to think of a smartass response, thoughts jolted free from your head when Matty spanks you harshly. The crack of skin on skin might have been loud enough to be heard from outside, you think with a pulse of satisfaction. “Unless the next words out of your mouth are yes, sir or yes, Daddy, I don’t want to hear it.”
“Yes, Daddy,” you moan out, your cunt throbbing needily. “You’re right. Want her to see how good you fuck me, want her to know she could never make you feel as good as I do,” you say, the admissions stumbling one after another from your lips, unbidden.
“There’s my good girl,” he coos, your stomach clenching at the sound of his belt unbuckling, his zipper falling. “Such a little brat when you’re gagging for my cock, aren’t you, princess?” You nod furiously, whining as he teases your hole with the tips of his fingers. Desperate for friction, you grind back against them, weak, helpless moans tumbling from your lips. “Beg for it.” You choke on a gasp. “Go on, angel. You want my cock so bad? Beg for it.”
You don’t even have time to pretend to have dignity before wanton pleas spill free. “Fuck, Daddy, please! Want your cock so fucking bad, always make me feel so good, s’not the same when I do it myself,” you whine, giving a shuddering gasp when he teases your clit with the tip of his cock. “Please! I’m beggin’ you, Daddy, I’ll be good, I promise.”
Matty chuckles. “Alright, baby, alright,” he murmurs soothingly, lining himself up with your soaked entrance and sliding home so fast you’re gasping. Your knees buckle as you scramble for purchase on the desk, nails scraping against the varnished wood. “Oh, princess, it’s okay, Daddy’s here now,” he soothes, your cunt pulsing desperately around him. “Look at you, bein’ all sweet for me now you’re stuffed full. Such a dumb little slut, aren’t you, baby? Bet you wish you didn’t have to think about anythin’ except my cock.”
“Mhm,” you whine, arching your back as much as you can, your tits pressing against the cool wood of the desk. “M’just your stupid little slut, Daddy, please fuck me,” you beg, grinding back against him.
Matty’s hips slam suddenly against yours, a whining scream tearing from your throat as pleasure spills over in your veins. His hand comes down to cover your mouth, your body going limp against his. “Shh, princess. I’m at work, remember?” The reminder that fucking anyone could come to his door, know exactly what he’s doing to you, sends a thrill up your spine. “Can you be quiet, hm? Or do I need to make you quiet?” Another deep thrust draws a long, low moan from your throat, and he seems to have answered his own question. The fabric of his tie covers your mouth, spit leaking out around it. “There you go, angel. Nice and quiet for me. Bang on the desk if you need me to stop, okay?”
You nod, something that might be yes, Daddy coming out garbled around the gag. Matty fucks into you brutally, your chest heaving as ecstasy burns under your skin. “Good girl,” he coos. “Good, sweet girl. Takin’ my cock so well, princess. Such a pretty toy for your Daddy.”
Matty sets a bruising pace, your tongue pushing against his tie as it holds back your pathetic little noises. Your tits press against the desk, the sharp tip of a pencil digging into your bare stomach. You barely feel it, unconscious of anything but Matty’s skin against yours. “God, you feel so fucking good, princess. Daddy’s girl, aren’t you? Why would I ever want another girl when I’ve ruined you so perfect for me? Look at you, good little girl gagged and bent over my desk like a whore.” You moan, filthy words washing over you, sliding down your throat, sticky, wet pleasure dripping out of you.
You’re dizzy with lust, dazed and drooling, ecstasy spiralling through your bones. You can’t even think, Matty fucking all coherence out of you, every thrust clouding your mind more and more. Garbled moans fall from your lips in a filthy, spit-slick string, Matty’s rhythmic grunts swirling deliciously around your head. The calloused pads of his fingers find your clit, euphoria scorching in your bloodstream at the scrape over your swollen nerves. Your legs feel like jelly, melting hot and sweet under Matty’s touch. “You’re close, aren’t you, baby? Can feel your pretty cunt squeezin’ me so tight, princess. You wanna cum for Daddy?”
A few more rough circles over your clit, one more deep, spearing thrust and you break, wailing around the gag. “Good girl,” Matty croons, fucking you through as stars shatter behind your closed lids. Liquid ecstasy melts your bones, glueing you to the desk. Matty groans your name, cock pulsing as he spills inside you, a sound that’s pure desire falling from his lips. Still inside you, he unties the gag, letting it fall onto the desk as you draw a deep breath. “How are you feeling, angel?”
“So good,” you murmur, voice scratchy from disuse, whining as he pulls out of you. “Always make me feel so good, Daddy,” you add, letting Matty flip you around and set you on the desk, his eyes falling to your glistening core. Cum drips obscenely from you, puddling sticky and wet on his desk, a filthy smirk crossing his face.
“Good girl. So pretty for me, darling.” He tucks himself away, and once his belt is buckled he’s the picture of professionalism while you sit in front of him, sex-rumpled and half-naked and panting. “First girl I’ve ever fucked in here, you know,” he adds, so offhand you’d almost miss it if it it hadn’t made your heart jump into your throat. You can’t make head or fucking tail of him, one minute taunting you with his pretty secretary, the next swearing that you’re special. “M’sorry, darling, I don’t have much in here to clean you up with,” he says with a soft laugh, wiping a tissue through your folds and crooning soothingly when you whimper.
“S’okay. Was worth it,” you say. Your limbs feel tired and heavy, your eyelids drooping as you glance at the time and realise half your allotted hour is gone.
“You tired, sweet girl?” he asks with a soft, fond chuckle.
“Yeah,” you yawn. “You wore me out. Wish we were in bed. That was the best sleep of my life,” you confess, huffing a soft laugh.
You shudder as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch careful and tender. “Soon, princess, I promise. I’m sorry we haven’t seen each other. Missed you,” he says, and the admission melts in your chest, glueing your organs together and squeezing tightly. You sigh, the question on the tip of your tongue dissolving like a sugar pill as your resolve shatters. “How’s your week been, angel? Your friend’s birthday, right?”
You swallow a grimace. Isobel is hardly your friend, in the same way your parents aren’t friends, but you run in the same circles so proximity forced you into something resembling friendship. “Oh, the usual,” you say idly, twirling a curl that’s sprung loose from the gel in his hair around your finger. “Drinks, drugs, boys,” you tease, grinning when his jaw clenches. So he can dish it out but not take it? Interesting.
“Did you talk to any boys, princess?” he asks, eyes glittering dangerously.
Shrugging airily, you kick your legs where they dangle off the desk. “So what if I did?” you challenge. The next words wrench themselves free of your mouth, tasting bitter as they fall. “We’re only fucking, it’s not like you actually own me. If I want to fuck someone else, are you gonna stop me?”
The question hangs thick and acerbic in the air between you and Matty swallows visibly. “No,” he says after a pause. “You can fuck whoever you want, princess. Won’t be as good as me, though, and you know it,” he says, smug and acrid.
The air between you is tense, horribly charged and all wrong, and you can feel tears prickling at the back of your throat. “I should get going,” you say abruptly, getting to your feet. “I’ll see you soon,” you add, not looking back at him as you cross the room.
“Say hi to Ruby on your way out, yeah?” Matty says, something close to a sneer in his voice. As you open the door, though, you paste on a blithe smile and relax your shoulders for Ruby’s benefit.
“Hope it’s not you who has to clean up in there,” you smirk as you pass. “Made a bit of a mess,” you giggle, savouring the way Ruby’s face shifts in colour as she swallows her grimace.
And so you leave Matty’s office more confused about what he wants than when you fucking came in. Something shifts between you after that. Your words don’t change, Matty just as syrupy-sweet as ever, but the difference is palpable, sugared words souring as you digest them. He gets even more possessive while you fuck, more degrading, insisting you’re such a little slut, baby. Whoring yourself out to every fucking boy who looks at you, but you always come runnin’ back to your Daddy, yeah?
But it’s not always angry and mean. Sometimes, it’s slow and so sweet you could swear it’s loving, Matty lavishing you with praise, murmurs of that’s right, such a good girl and Daddy’s girl, so pretty for me soaking into your skin and tying themselves in knots around your brain. Some nights, especially recently, you don’t even fuck when you go to his place. Being there is a comfort, away from catty friends and overbearing parents, somewhere you can just be. Last night, you’d suddenly realised you kind of just weren’t in the mood, apologising and making to leave, and he’d just kissed your temple, pulled you in close and asked what your favourite movie was. And you started to believe. And then you’ll go out for drinks, so much as mention a boy’s name; he’ll toss a jab about some pretty young girl he works with, and you’re right back where you started, tearing each other apart at the seams.
You’re this close to ripping your fucking hair out, sick to death of bottling it all up when you finally decide you need to unload on someone. “I just don’t get him,” you complain, your best friend Thea making sympathetic noises at all the right moments. “One minute it’s all you’re my girl and my pretty baby, the next it’s such a whore, bet you’d let anyone fuck you.”
“But you’re still sleeping at his place?” Thea asks, judgement obvious in her tone.
You groan. “Yes, leave me alone! If you saw the state I’m in after, you’d understand.”
Thea clicks her tongue. “And you haven’t actually fucked anyone else?”
“No,” you admit, defeated. “Don’t know if I could, to be honest.”
“Does he know that? Has he?”
“No and I don’t know. I just don’t know where I fucking stand, and I can’t ask. He’ll think I’m some pathetic little girl who can’t handle it, I know it.”
“You know what you need? You, me, a pair of slutty little dresses, and those fancy cocktails with about twelve kinds of alcohol in them from 102. I’m not taking no for an answer, I’ll see you at ten.”
And, true enough, at eleven you’re clutching a gin bowl for dear life and screeching along to the song thumping through the club’s speakers. “I need a refill, c’mon!” you shout in Thea’s ear, dragging her off to the bar where you can hear slightly better.
Despite the queue, the bartender stops in front of you with a smile. “Love that dress. What can I get for you?” You scan the menu, brow scrunching in a frown, but your words die in your throat as the bartender steps into slightly better light and you take her in properly. She’s a fucking goddess, model-pretty with thick, dark hair and long-lashed brown eyes.
Thea swats your arm and you realise your gaze has drifted down, and you pull it back up to where she’s waiting with a smirk. “You’ve— The menu’s changed. I used to get a Sucker,” you manage to get out around the lump in your throat.
“Alright,” she says cryptically. “And you?”
Thea shrugs. “I’ll have what she’s having, I’m not picky.”
She laughs. “Oh, no. You two do not pick the same poisons. I’ve got this, okay?” Slightly entranced, you watch her work, setting something golden and glittering in front of you. “Sunshine Baby,” she says with a wink. “And for you… Antichrist.”
Thea takes her swirling, dark drink with a delighted grin. “She was into you,” she teases, nudging you with her hip.
“Oh, please, she wanted a tip.” The pair of you find a table, one with a prime view of the DJ booth so you can ogle the hot, blond DJ as he whips the crowd into a frenzied mass of sweating bodies. You keep returning to the same bartender, whose name you learn is Charli, and she keeps plying you with free shots for hot girls and increasingly strong drinks, until you find yourself stumbling onto the dancefloor and losing track of Thea.
Your head feels light, your body loose in a way it hasn’t been in weeks, the alcohol dampening your coherent thoughts. A pair of hands find your waist, and you twist your head back to meet the eyes of their owner. He couldn’t be further from Matty if he tried; your age, for one, tall, willowy and blond. The kind of man you’d usually never have looked twice at. But maybe that’s exactly what you need right now, you think, grinding your hips back against his with a grin. “Can I get your number?” he asks, pulling you free of the dancefloor, sweaty and flushed and smiling freely. After a long moment of consideration, Matty’s warning gaze flashing in your mind, you smirk and give it to him. “Let me take you out. You free Thursday?”
His overconfidence is jarring, and you swallow a frown. “I don’t know,” you tease. “Maybe. Why don’t we get back out there and you can convince me?” You obviously aren’t going to fucking go. Even as drunk as you are, you know that. Whatever this thing with Matty is, it’s serious to you, and you know the pair of you need to untangle it. But, for now, you shove it to the back of your mind, distracting yourself with free shots from a pretty boy, your head spinning wildly by the time you find Thea.
She might even be drunker than you are, stumbling and slurring as you bundle her into a taxi; she lives on the other side of town to you, so it doesn’t make sense to share. “Go, I’ll be fine,” you insist. “There’ll be another one in a minute, okay? Bye! Love you!” you shout as the car pulls away, Thea’s slightly green-tinged face hanging out of the open window. Left alone, you suddenly realise just how drunk you are, your vision blurred as you slump to the curb. When ten minutes pass without a taxi appearing, panic starts to set in; it’s too close to closing time and you’re too drunk, 102 won’t let you back in, and it’ll be the same story anywhere up and down the street. You’re alone in the dark, bile rising in your throat as you do the only thing you can think of and dial Matty.
“Hello?” he says, voice gruff with sleep. “Bit late to be calling, darling. Can’t sleep? Need some help to relax?” he adds, his smirk audible.
Your voice wavers as you speak. “M’sorry, I didn’t know who else to call,” you say, choked with the effort of holding back tears. “I can’t call my parents, I don’t have any fucking friends who’d care, there’s no taxis, I—” you cut yourself off with a hysterical gasp.
Matty shushes you soothingly. “Baby. Baby, breathe. Breathe for me, okay?” You try your best to obey, drawing deep, hiccuping breaths, shuddering harshly on the exhale. “What’s wrong, love?” You stumble your way through an explanation, babbling profuse apologies, mortification creeping up your spine. “Darling, it’s okay. Don’t be sorry. Where are you?”
“102,” you sniffle. “It’s—”
“I know the place. Sit tight, okay? I’m getting in the car now, I’ll be there soon. I’ve got you, promise.” The wave of relief that floods your body when you finally spot Matty’s car pulling to a stop in front of you is near-crippling, and you’d have collapsed when he wraps his arms around you if he wasn’t supporting your weight. “Oh, baby. Sweet girl, it’s okay. I’m here now. I’ve got you,” he repeats soothingly, only pulling away when you stop swaying on your feet. “God, you smell like the floor of a dive bar,” he teases, and you chuckle weakly. “C’mon, angel. Let’s get you in bed, yeah?”
You murmur another apology as you slide into the passenger seat, and he waves it away with a smile. “Hey, my house is the left back there,” you say, the cool night air having snapped you back to yourself a little.
“I know,” Matty says quietly. “I’m not sending you back there alone, darling. Promised I’d take care of you, didn’t I?” he says, his hand on your thigh gently calming instead of teasing.
“Thank you,” you mumble, looking down at your lap as Matty parks the car in his drive.
“Any time, angel. I’m serious. I’m glad you called. Don’t ever want you to think I won’t be here if you’re not okay.” And fuck if that sickening, chaotic mess of feelings doesn’t just bubble right back up to the surface. He leads you into the kitchen, your body curled into his to steady yourself. “I’ll get you something to eat, okay?”
You shake your head. “Mm-mm. You’re already doing too much. And I won’t keep it down, anyway,” you say, pressing a hand to your roiling stomach. “I just need to lie down.” You start to wander into the living room, and Matty grabs your wrist gently.
“You need to eat something, darling. Drink some water, sleep in a bed,” he adds insistently. You let him fuss over you, plying you with a slice of toast and a glass of water, and you tuck yourself into his chest as he carries you up to bed. Dressed in one of his well-worn shirts, his familiar scent fills your lungs, comforting as he tucks himself into bed next to you.
“Thank you,” you repeat. “Can’t say it enough. Didn’t have to do all this, Matty. I would’ve been okay.”
“Don’t want you just okay,” he answers. “Want you feeling good, and safe, and happy. Get some sleep, love, m’here.” You close your eyes obligingly, but your drunken haze lifting has set your thoughts free, spinning like a coin set on its edge that just won’t fall. Your night plays back in sickening detail behind your lids, the memory of the boy’s hands on you bringing bile up your throat. Laying in Matty’s bed without having been thoroughly exhausted first always plays with your sanity, your brain wandering to places you know it shouldn’t go as he sleeps peacefully next to you.
The sun is coming up by the time you give up on sleep, hoping Matty’s rhythmic breathing means he won’t hear you trying to sneak away. No such luck, though. “Where you goin’, sweetheart?” he asks, and you feel a stab of guilt at interrupting his sleep yet again.
“Home. I’ll get out of your hair, now. Thank you again,” you say quietly.
“Baby. Princess. Come here, come back here,” Matty says, and he looks so sweet and earnest, sleep-soft and smiling, that you obey, and you can’t help the happy little sigh that escapes you as he pulls you close.
Shame burns hot through you as you remember the previous night all over again, and you can’t stop yourself from blurting out, “A boy asked me on a date last night.”
Matty’s hand tightens on your hip. “What did you say?” he asks, voice low with warning.
You sigh, steeling yourself to look into his eyes. “What do you want me to have said? you answer, and he blinks, confusion written across his features. “What is this, Matty? Because if this is casual, if you just want a shiny young girl on your arm for a few months, it’s fine by me,” you lie, pushing down the nausea that pools at your words. “But if this is just fun, we should be allowed to see other people — are you seeing other people?” you ask, tension winding between your shoulder blades as you prepare for the answer.
“No,” Matty practically growls. “And I’m not fucking anyone else, either, before you ask. I haven’t in weeks.” He huffs a laugh. “I tried, the day I met you, tried to get you out of my head ‘cause I didn’t think I’d get to have you.” His thumb rubs gentle circles into your hip, his touch comforting as his words soak in, a soothing balm to your nerves. “Didn’t fucking work. Couldn’t stop picturing you instead,” he confesses. “You’re in my head, princess. M’sorry I let my little strop go on so long. Thinkin’ about some other man touching you was driving me crazy. I was bein’ selfish. If you want to see other people, I—”
“I don’t,” you interrupt. “Only want you.”
He breaks out in a wide grin. “Pictured this being a bit more romantic, but,” Matty pinches your hip gently, and you giggle, pressing a soft kiss against his lips. “You’re my girl, yeah? Properly mine.”
“Yeah,” you say, practically glowing as you smile back at him. “As long as you’re mine.”
He threads a hand into your hair, kisses you like breathing is a choice, licking eagerly into your mouth as you melt against him. “What are you gonna say if another boy asks you on a date, princess?”
“I have a boyfriend,” you beam, just using the word making your heart warm. The tangled knot that’s sat in your belly for weeks now blissfully untied, your body feels loose and happy and willing. “I’m gonna have a shower, okay, then I’ve gotta thank you properly, yeah?”
A filthy smirk pulls at Matty’s lips. “I like the sound of that.” You giggle, pressing a kiss to his nose before climbing off him.
“You would,” you tease, padding into the bathroom and running the shower. You luxuriate under the water for several long, glorious minutes, the water pressure melting the last lingering tension between your shoulders. The smell of the club lingers in your hair until you scrub it with Matty’s expensive shampoo, the smell familiar as you work your fingers over your scalp, lingering like you’ll be able to absorb him through your skin. You towel your hair mostly dry, despite your insistence that Matty was committing a cardinal sin by doing the same, and wander back into the bedroom still naked and dripping wet.
Matty chokes on a gasp. “Fuck. Hi, gorgeous.” The praise heats your cheeks and you kneel at the foot of his bed, clasping your hands behind your back.
“Hi, Daddy,” you say sweetly. “I said I’d thank you properly. Gonna show you what a good girl I can be. Best girl you’ll ever have.” Matty smirks, sitting up to give himself a better view. “Can do whatever you want with me. All day long.” He smirks, dirty and sleazy and delicious, and pats the sheets next to him.
“C’mere, princess. Up you get.” You scramble to obey, sighing happily when he tangles his legs with yours and kisses you slow and deep. His hardness presses against your thigh as you make out, his hands wandering to your ass and squeezing. “God, so perfect, darling,” he praises. “Can’t believe you’re all mine.”
“Yours,” you whimper into his mouth, almost deliriously happy. His kiss is almost ferocious, hungry and devouring, desire coiling under your skin. “Daddy, please. Want you so bad,” you murmur.
Matty laughs. “Patience, angel. Thought you were gonna be good?” he says, but it’s light and teasing, without any of the underlying meanness that might have laced his tone a week ago. You relax, tension unspooling in your belly as you put your trust in him. His hands skim over your body, somehow both gentle and working you into a frenzy. A litany of pathetic little whimpers fall from your lips as you squirm under his hands, Matty smirking into the kiss. “Sweet, needy baby,” he croons. “Missed havin’ you all sweet for me. M’sorry I was so mean, princess. Gonna make it up to you, I swear.” His fingers finally find your clit, heat welling between your thighs. It takes a Herculean effort to stay still, not react beyond your involuntary gasp, but the proud little smile on Matty’s face is worth it. “Good girl. Tell Daddy what you want, angel.”
You nod, swallowed in hazy pleasure as he rubs slow circles over your clit. “Want you to fuck me,” you choke out, your throat closing in overwhelming arousal.
Matty rolls on top of you, connecting your lips in a messy kiss. “Of course, baby. You okay like this? Wanna watch your pretty face while I fuck you.”
“Please,” you breathe. Matty doesn’t tease, just rubs gentle circles over your clit as he enters you, moaning softly into your mouth. Your hips roll, desire pooling under your skin as he fucks you slow and deep.
“God, missed havin’ you like this,” he breathes, his head falling into your shoulder. “Oh, darling, I know, I know. Daddy’s here, I’ve got you, okay?” he murmurs as you whimper softly, languid, bone-deep pleasure rolling over you. Matty’s eyes are liquid with affection, his lips curving into an unconscious smile.
His lips find yours again, your tongues sliding together as punched-out gasps fall from your lips in time with his smooth, measured thrusts. It’s immeasurably intense, Matty playing your body like a symphony, and you’re powerless to do anything but whine and writhe. “Thank you s’much, Daddy. Feels so fucking good,” you whimper, locking your legs around his waist. The change in angle is glorious, ecstasy winding through your bloodstream as Matty rubs circles into your clit.
“Good girl,” Matty murmurs, “Such a good girl for Daddy. My girl, my fucking girl. Wish I could keep you all sweet and cockdrunk for me all the fuckin’ time. Fuckin’ wish I could have you as my little kept girl, have this pussy at home waitin’ for me every fuckin’ night,” he groans, the familiar fantasy spiralling through your mind. He murmurs soft, sugary words into your ear, liquid desire melting your brain until you’re sure it must be dripping from your ears, soaking the sheets under your hair. “So, so pretty, darling. Look so gorgeous while I’m fucking you, god.”
You glow at the praise, heat thrumming under your skin as his hips meet yours over and over. You’re practically delirious, lost in thick, syrupy pleasure, the lewd sound of skin meeting filling the room. “Mmh, oh, my God, fuck—” you gasp, pleasure coiling tight in your belly as you dig your nails into his back. “M’gonna cum, Daddy, oh, my God, need it s’bad. Wanna cum, wanna make you cum, shit. Need to feel it, need you to fill me up, make me yours, God, please!”
“Fuck, such a good girl,” Matty gasps, his rhythm faltering as he gets closer. “Can hold on for me, just for a second, yeah? Wanna cum together,” he adds, and you whine, rolling your hips up against him and trembling with the effort of holding your orgasm at bay. He fucks into you with deep, sloppy thrusts, moaning into your mouth and pinching your clit. Garbled moans of fuck and yes and Daddy stumble from your lips, sticky, hot desire dripping from your cunt as you writhe under him. “Fuck, princess, you ready?” Matty gasps against your lips.
“Yeah, m’ready, Daddy, c’mon. Cum in me, fill up this slutty little pussy. M’yours, your good girl, your little cumdump. God, need it s’bad,” you moan, breaking into a whine as Matty spills inside you with a groan. Your orgasm follows a split-second later, moaning against Matty’s mouth with stardust glittering in your veins. Euphoria scorches under your skin, your head floating clear of your body as pleasure floods you, gasping and moaning. “Thank you,” you say dopily, smiling up at him as he pulls out. You widen your legs to watch his cum dripping out of you, pooling obscene and sticky on the mattress.
Matty watches you with a laugh. “Little cumslut,” he says fondly.
“Your little cumslut,” you smirk, stretching out your sore muscles. “When I said anything you want, I meant anything,” you grin. “Want me to be your little kept girl? Cook and clean for you while you look all pretty and important?”
He chuckles. “First of all, I’ve seen what you think passes for a meal, princess. Don’t know how you haven’t poisoned yourself.” You swat his shoulder, laughing. “Second of all, if you can stand right now, I haven’t worked hard enough,” he says, a smirk pulling at his lips.
“You’re lucky I like you cocky,” you tease, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth and testing your weight on your feet as you stand. Matty catches you as you stumble slightly, I told you so written plainly on his face. “Don’t,” you warn, before it can leave his mouth.
“Y’know, I think I like the sound of having a little housewife for the day,” he grins, your stomach tying itself in a knot at the word wife from his lips. “C’mon, sweet girl, I’m sure we can find something for you to occupy yourself with while you’re waitin’ for me to fuck you dumb again, huh?” he teases, your thighs clenching at the words. You bend to reach for your clothes, and he tsks softly. “Didn’t say you could get dressed, did I, angel?”
“No, Daddy. I won’t.” You swallow thickly, following him downstairs, feeling shockingly exposed in the glare of the sunlight pooling from the floor-to-ceiling glass windows. Matty’s cum trickles down your thighs as you hover beside him.
“Make us some tea, would you, darling?” he says, casual like you’re not naked and dripping cum on his pristine kitchen floor. “Shame you haven’t got a little apron, or something. Think I’d go a bit crazy, seein’ you in my kitchen dripping wet in nothing but an apron and a smile. Gotta teach you how to cook someday, if you wanna be my kept girl,” he continues, still maddeningly conversational as your cunt pulses wantonly at his words. “Tea, darling? Or have I got you too dumb for that without even touching you?” he teases.
Almost mechanically, you fill the kettle and flick it on, dropping a teabag into a mug for him and wrinkling your nose unsubtly. “Can I have a coffee? I don’t do tea.”
Matty laughs. “Course, princess. Want you to make yourself at home. Coffee’s just down there.” He points to a cupboard near your feet, stroking over the curve of your ass as you bend over. You don’t realise his game until you scan the contents of the cupboard and find nothing but pots and pans, and his fingers are tracing your messy, sensitive cunt. “Oops, did I say down?” he deadpans, reaching above your head to open another cupboard. “I meant up.”
“Perv,” you tease, retrieving the tin of coffee as the kettle whistles.
“Can’t help it,” he murmurs, dipping his head to kiss softly at your neck and jaw. “Too fucking gorgeous. Can’t believe you’re all mine.”
You giggle, breaking his hold to pour your drinks. “Can’t believe it took us this long. We’re idiots, kind of.”
“A bit,” he chuckles, accepting his tea and taking a sip. “So, what did you say? To that boy?” he asks, and you roll your eyes.
“No, obviously. Felt so guilty taking his number. Deleted it in the car,” you admit, staring into your coffee to avoid his gaze.
“Good girl,” he praises. “Knew nobody could fuck you like me, right? Nobody could treat you as good?”
You flush, setting your drink down and hopping up onto the counter, crossing your legs behind his back as he crowds into your space. “No, Daddy. Only you, I promise.”
Matty cups your jaw. “That’s right, princess. All mine. And I’m yours,” he says, cupping your jaw and connecting your lips in a searing kiss, drinking in the taste of you as you pour your emotions into his mouth. “So perfect, such a perfect girl for me,” he says, sucking a bruise into your skin and working his way down. He presses kisses over your tits, one hand coming up to play with a peaked bud as he wraps his lips around the other. You whine, arching your back and pushing against his attentions, a low buzz of pleasure growing in the back of your skull. “Love these tits so much, baby. So fucking perfect,” he murmurs against your skin, pressing a kiss in the valley of your breasts and tracing his fingers down, your muscles tensing at his touch. Desire whirls in your stomach, your head light and skin loose on your bones. He drops to his knees on the cool tile floor, kissing your knees as he spreads your legs wider, eyes blowing impossibly wider at the sight of your dripping cunt. “God, made such a mess of you, huh, princess? Want Daddy to get you cleaned up?”
“Please,” you gasp, threading a hand in his curls as he kisses the tender skin of your inner thigh. “Daddy, please. Want your mouth,” you whimper, moaning when his lips meet your slick skin. The pressure between your thighs is instant and familiar, mounting as Matty laps at your folds. He pulls off to bite at your thighs, scraping over his own fading bruises, faint pain tangling with pleasure under your overheated skin. His tongue is hungry as it fucks into you, his moans vibrating gloriously through you as you cling to the counter for dear life.
Your hips grind against his face, euphoria spiralling through you, stoking the fire low in your belly. “That’s it, princess. Gonna help Daddy get you off? My pretty little cockdrunk slut, need it all the time, right?” he murmurs, rubbing circles into your clit as he buries his tongue back into you. You can’t fucking think, everything in your brain drowned out by lips, tongue, teeth, Matty.
“Fuck, yes, Daddy, feels s’fucking good,” you whine, burying your hand in his curls and dragging him even closer, his tongue impossibly deep inside you as you clench around the muscle. Heat unspools in your belly, licking under your skin and setting your blood on fire, your hips rocking unbidden against his mouth. You cry out as Matty wraps his lips around your clit, pleasure-pain screaming from your still-sensitive nerves, all his attention focused on your swollen bud. “Oh, my God, oh, my God, oh, my God,” you gasp, pulse jackhammering between your thighs, so fast you’re scared it’ll set off dynamite in your chest.
“Yeah?” Matty smirks up at you, his lips and chin soaked in your arousal. You’re close, embarrassingly so, his tongue sloppy and greedy as he devours your cunt. His quiet moans into your cunt are intensely gratifying, amplifying the ecstasy kicking wildly under your skin. “God, you’re so pretty fallin’ apart like this. Could live between these pretty thighs, princess.” In response, you tighten them around his head, savouring his little gasp as his tongue returns to your cunt, licking over your hole with fervour. Your eyes roll back in your head, swimming dizzily in ecstasy, your cunt throbbing with need.
Your entire body is tense, muscles clenched and expectant as Matty tongue-fucks you within an inch of your life. “M’so close, Daddy, wanna cum,” you whimper, chasing the pleasure that coils tight around your veins, your vision blurring as euphoria chokes you.
Matty circles his fingers over your clit, his callouses scraping deliciously over your tender skin. “Cum for me whenever you’re ready, princess. Wanna feel you fallin’ apart on my tongue. Sweetest fuckin’ girl in the world,” he murmurs, pulling your clit into his mouth and sucking hard, a scream tearing free from your throat. Molten desire pools in your belly, your body humming with energy begging to be released. “Come on, darling, let me hear you. Give me everything you’ve got,” he moans, your cunt dripping on his tongue.
“Oh, fuck, m’cumming, Daddy, fuck! Oh, God, feels s’good, fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whimper, pure pleasure breaking you wide open, your vision whiting out as Matty’s tongue curls deep inside of you. You throb around him, every muscle in your body suddenly jelly, his hands on your thighs the only thing anchoring you to reality. Matty gets to his feet with a smirk, wordlessly prising your jaw open and sliding his wet fingers into your mouth.
You wrap your fingers around his tongue, sucking and licking the taste of you off his skin and moaning softly. “Good girl. You look so fucking gorgeous when you cum, princess.” He catches your lips in a messy kiss, your slick on his tongue as it sweeps your mouth, his hands finding your hips and pulling you close. “You up for a little day out, angel? Wanna show off my pretty girl, make everyone jealous of me.”
You giggle. “I told you. Anything you want. If you want to bend me over and show the entire fucking world who I belong to, I’ll drop my panties right then and there, promise.”
Matty’s jaw clenches, nails digging into your hips. “Don’t want anyone else seeing you like that, ever,” he growls. “C’mon, princess, go and get dressed. Got a busy day planned,” he grins.
“When did you have time to plan a day out?” you scoff, hopping to your feet and heading back up the stairs.
“Wanted to take you out and ask you to be my girlfriend, but that part got wrecked. I still wanna spoil you, baby.” He wraps an arm around your waist and presses a kiss into your hair.
You melt into his touch, leaning into him with a soft, private smile. “You’re too sweet,” you say, pulling away from him to step into your discarded underwear and jeans, turning to rifle through his drawers. After a few moments, you find what you were looking for, a shirt that must be a remnant of some distant, misspent youth; so small it’s almost your size, and it must have been cropped short on him because it barely brushes the hem of your jeans. “Did you actually wear this?” you laugh, turning this way and that as you admire how surprisingly well the shirt flatters you.
Matty laughs. “Told you, I was in a band in my twenties. Made some questionable fashion choices, but I made it work.”
Your eyes light up. “You have to show me. Please, I have got to see what you looked like when you fit into this,” you plead, and he scoffs.
“Nah. Looks better on you, anyway,” he says, sliding a pair of sunglasses over your eyes and kissing your cheek, brushing a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “Have you got a jacket? It’s fucking cold, for June,” he comments, a poor attempt at sounding casual.
It’s not that cold, and he knows damn well you don’t have a jacket. “Hmm, nope.” You pop the ‘p’ obnoxiously. “Guess I’ll have to borrow one of yours,” you say airily, as if that wasn’t his obvious fucking game all along. He slides a leather jacket over your shoulders, well-worn and smelling like him, and your reflection stops you dead. You look fucking hot. You look like a rich man’s scandalously young girlfriend, the graceful lines of him slotting perfectly into the picture. You snap a sweet photo of the two of you as he kisses your temple, and you giggle up at him.
“God, never gonna get over how gorgeous you look wearin’ my clothes, darling,” he murmurs, giving your ass a little smack and hurrying you into the car. His hand is familiar on your thigh as he drives, the warmth of his touch soaking into your skin and fizzing up in your chest. He presses kisses to your cheek at every red light, his gaze adoring every time it lands on you.
You share a lazy, light breakfast, trading kisses over pastries and coffee; yours heaped with cream and sugar and his bitter and black. Matty listens as you explain your friends’ petty little dramas, nodding or frowning at all the right moments but wise enough not to weigh in. He presses you against the car when you leave, digging one hand into your hair and the other into your waist and kissing the sugary-almond taste out of your mouth. “Pretty girl,” he praises, smiling as you flush.
“Sweet boy,” you murmur, kissing his nose as he pulls back and opens the passenger-side door for you. “Such a gentleman,” you giggle, sliding into your seat. You fiddle with the radio, turning to him expectantly when the car stays in park. “Thought you had the whole day planned out?”
“I do,” he grins. “Just waitin’ for you to tell me where you like to shop, angel.”
You smile, rattling off a list that comes as easily as breathing. “Are you gonna take me shopping?” you giggle as the engine purrs to life. “Won’t you get bored?”
“Nah,” he shrugs, reversing out of the car park. “I’ll be like the male lead in a romcom, carrying all your bags and following you like a lost puppy. It’ll be well funny,” he chuckles, and you can’t help but laugh, the image of him laden with shopping he’s paying for and wandering around a boutique looking slightly mystified frankly adorable.
“You’d make a good movie star. Just about pretty enough.” Matty gives an offended scoff and lights a cigarette, sulkily facing away from you as he takes a drag. An old favourite song crackles through the radio and you sing along, uninhibited and happy and maybe even a little in love.
Matty smiles at you indulgently as you start flipping through clothing racks, running your fingers through the fabric and musing which pieces already in your closet they’d pair well with. You pull out a pretty little summer dress, white and lacy with pink florals, and hold it up without looking at the price tag. “What do you think?” you grin, watching him picture you wearing it with a sleazy smile.
“If you want it, it’s yours,” he shrugs. “Go wild, princess.” Not one to look a gift horse, you take him at his word, draping the dress over your arm and fluttering off to flip through the skirts. A scandalously short leather mini catches your eye, and you hold it against your hips thoughtfully.
Matty’s jaw tightens unsubtly. “Oh, don’t be such a boy,” you tease. “I’ll model it for you later,” you add with a grin, and his hands fly to your waist and pull you in.
“Please don’t get me all worked up, sweetheart,” he pleads against your lips. “Don’t wanna have to cut this short because I had to bring you home and take what I need from you, do you?”
Your insides melt into liquid and you flush, heat slick under your skin. “Tempting,” you smirk. “Later tonight?”
His eyes darken, sparkling with allure. “I’m counting the minutes,” he murmurs against your lips, taking an inappropriately greedy handful of your ass and pressing his lips against yours.
Your knees go weak when Matty licks into your mouth, his tongue hedonistic and clever and sure. You indulge yourself in his kiss for a few moments, his body pressing against yours as he threads a hand into your hair. “Mmh, stop trying to distract me,” you say, voice slightly rough with desire. “I’m gonna bleed you dry, darling.”
Matty grins. “Do your worst, angel.”
And you certainly try your fucking hardest, piling his arms high with blouses and dresses and skirts; lipsticks and powders and creams; pumps and heels and sandals. When Matty starts dragging his feet, you take pity on him and pull him into the lingerie section, his jaw going slightly slack as he stares around; he looks vaguely guilty, like he’s been caught somewhere he shouldn’t.
You pluck a delicate, white corset off the rack, holding it up musingly. “How about this? Might be cute with one of those skirts?” Matty swallows thickly, clearly stuck for words that won’t get the pair of you banned from the store and maybe arrested for lewd behaviour.
“I like it.” He clears his throat. “A lot.”
You grin mischievously. “I have an idea, Daddy,” you murmur, the word a delicious taboo as it slips from your lips, scandalously inappropriate on the wide-open shop floor. “Should get yourself some presents, too. Pick some stuff out for me?”
A filthy smirk splits his face, and you shiver, a thrill running up your spine. Matty, it turns out, has extremely discerning tastes, at least when it comes to lingerie. Everything he chooses is carefully considered, holding the lace against your skin to consider the colour, the shape, the cut of the piece and how it’ll sit on your body. You end up heaped with a pile of bras and panties, corsets and teddies, babydoll dresses and chemises, slightly dizzy at the thought of dressing up in them for him.
“Think that’s more than enough to keep us both happy, don’t you, princess?” he grins, leading you to the counter. It takes aeons to get you rung up, and you feel a little faint at the sight of the total; it’s more than five thousand pounds. Matty doesn’t even look fazed, though, kissing you softly and swiping his card like it’s nothing. It’s maybe a little embarrassing, but you feel a faint tingle of arousal at him taking such a massive sum in stride.
You drape yourself across him as he loads your bags into the car, pressing grateful kisses anywhere you can reach. “Thank you, Daddy. Too good to me. Tell me how I can make it up to you.”
Matty smiles, wide and warm and so fucking sweet you can taste the honey dripping from his mouth. “Don’t need to, angel. Just let me spoil you. Like seein’ you happy after I was such a little bitch before. M’sorry, sweet girl.”
You laugh as you slide into the car beside him. “I’ve accepted worse apologies for worse things from far worse men. I think we’re more than even now.” You run your hand over his thigh, cupping his cock with a smirk. “How about I put on a little fashion show for you when we get back? Call it even when I can’t even remember my own name?”
He grins. “You are filthy,” he says delightedly, throwing on a burst of speed that pins you against the seat, suddenly desperate to get the pair of you into a bedroom.
Matty’s mouth is ravenous on yours as soon as you’re alone, dropping the bags to grip your waist hungrily and pull you flush against him. “Mmh, hold on,” you say, breaking away regretfully. “Don’t you wanna see me all dolled up for you, Daddy?”
Groaning, Matty slides his hands down to your waist, spanking you when you bend over to retrieve your bags. A pulse of wanton arousal throbs stickily between your legs, an involuntary moan rumbling from your lips. “Pretty little slut,” he mumbles approvingly. “Wanna get that pretty ass all red for me, god.”
“Yes, Daddy,” you murmur, straightening up and leaning back against him. “Anything you want.” He follows you up the stairs, making himself comfortable on the bed as you slip into the bathroom and change. You primp and preen, experimenting with lip swatches and sparkling eyeshadow, switching out your outfit until you’re satisfied.
Matty is waiting on the bed when you slip back into the room. The sight of him, his legs spread wide and clad only in boxers with one hand lazily palming his cock through the fabric, is almost enough to make you abandon your plans. “D’you like the skirt now, Daddy?” you ask, pulling the waistband down to reveal the scrap of deep-red satin clinging to your waist.
“Mmm, I don’t know if I’m quite convinced yet, princess,” he teases. “Think you should show me what it looks like off.”
A heavy pulse of want wells between your thighs, and you grin. “Let me put on a little show for you, first.” You cue up a carefully-curated playlist, swaying your hips in time with the beat and slowly peeling off your shirt. Matty’s breath catches at the sight of you, groaning low in his throat, the sound going straight to your cunt.
Turning and bending over right on cue, you shake your ass, flashing your panties under the skirt; Matty moans outright. “So gorgeous, princess. Gettin’ me so fucking hard, god,” he groans, and as you turn to face him, you’re treated to the sight of him freeing his cock, slowly pumping it and watching you intently. Your skirt slides to the floor as Matty fucks into his fist, delicious, gasping little moans tumbling from his lips. “Fuck, c’mere, please,” he pleads, gaze fixed on you as you stalk to the edge of the bed.
“Wanna sample the merchandise, huh?” you tease, straddling his lap and grinding down on his cock. Matty’s hands come up to your tits, palming and squeezing greedily as your head falls forward to meet his lips. You let him grope you for a few long, delicious minutes, his hands finding your hips, your waist, your ass and digging in. Then, you hop off his lap, and Matty whines. “I’ve still got more stuff to try on,” you grin, slipping away and changing into a sheer-white babydoll with a matching thong.
Matty chokes on air at the sight of you, and you smile angelically, kneeling at the foot of the bed. “God, gonna drive me crazy, darling. Need to fuck you so bad,” he groans, his cock flushed red and dripping as it disappears into his fist.
You giggle. “M’glad you picked this one, Daddy. D’you wanna know what I thought when I saw it?” He nods, dazed and practically drooling. “I thought, ‘That’s what I wanna wear around the house when I’m bein’ a good little housewife for my Daddy,’” you murmur, and Matty has a physical reaction, shuddering as his eyes go wide, the fantasy playing clear as day on his face.
“Fuck, princess,” he groans. “Angel. Darling. Sweet girl. Come here. Let me fuck you, please,” he begs, hips shifting needily as he pumps his cock.
Draping yourself over his lap, you smile blithely up at him. “You promised to spank me, Daddy,” you pout, and Matty gives a filthy smirk, tracing his fingers over your panties as you shudder and squirm.
“Such a filthy little slut, god,” he murmurs. “This sweet little ass is gonna look so pretty covered in my handprints, baby. Gonna remind you who you belong to every time you sit down, yeah?”
Arousal swirls through your body, wanton need dripping from your neglected cunt. “Belong to you, Daddy. Your girl— ah!” you gasp as Matty’s hand comes down, meeting your ass harshly. A long, low moan pulls from your throat, sweet pain tangling with the burning need under your skin. “Yes, Daddy, fuck. Please, more,” you whimper, face pressed against the sheets as you sink deeper into glorious submission. Three more smacks come in quick succession, the flesh of your ass flaming under his touch.
Matty kneads your tender skin gently, soothing before he delivers another hit, the pain washing over you and coiling into thick, palpable pleasure under your skin. “Love this pretty ass so much, princess,” he praises.
“Want you to fuck me there, one day,” you say dreamily, so lost in desire-slick fantasies that you don’t even process the admission as it falls from your lips. “Wanna be yours. Every single hole,” you murmur, eyes lidded and voice rough with lust. Matty freezes, and you tense. God, was that a weird thing to say? Too early to admit it? Is he gonna think you’re actually a slut now?
A moan of pure, unfiltered lust falls from his mouth and your thighs clench, the fabric of your panties soaked and sticky between your thighs. “Fuck, you can’t say things like that, princess. Gonna make me fuckin’ cum before I’ve even fucked you,” he murmurs, voice low and raked over gravel, thick with lust. His fingers tease over your clit through your panties, and you arch up into his touch, whimpering.
“Then fuck me,” you plead. “Please, Daddy. Want you.” Matty grins, manhandling you until you’re laying on your front, pleasure tense in your belly as he slides your panties to the side.
Your cunt clenches around nothing, gasping and pleading softly as the sheets dig into your cheek. “This okay, angel? Wanna watch the bruises come up on your pretty little ass.”
Lifting your hips, you shake your ass at him, a smirk pulling at your lips. “Gonna think about fucking it, Daddy?” He groans, the sound going straight to your core, slick cunt dripping as you press against him. “S’okay if you do. I have been. When I’m alone, when I want you, fucking myself on my fingers and thinkin’ about you stretching me out there. Would feel so fucking— Ohh,” you break into a moan as Matty enters you with no warning, meeting no resistance from your soaked cunt.
“So fucking wet for me, princess. So fucking filthy, playing with that needy cunt and thinkin’ about me fucking your ass, god,” he groans, dipping his head to kiss between your shoulder blades. A shudder runs through you, the stretch and burn between your thighs familiar, the ache soothing.
Your cunt throbs, thick pulses of arousal hammering in time with your racing heart. “Harder, Daddy, please,” you whine, arching your back. Dizzying lust envelops you, your head hazy and light, practically floating clear of your body. A shocked moan escapes you as Matty spanks you again, pain sinking into pleasure that coils tightly through your insides.
“Don’t be greedy, darling,” he chides. “C’mon, lift your hips a little for Daddy, okay?” Unthinkingly, you obey, letting him puppeteer you, mould you into whatever shape he likes. “Good girl,” he murmurs, sliding a pillow under your hips. You glow at the praise, nails scraping the sheets when he fucks deep into you, the change in angle sending waves of pleasure spilling over you.
“Ngh, Daddy, fuck,” you whimper, your words coming out garbled where your face presses into the sheets. Incoherent moans of please and fuck and I need and Daddy stumble from your lips, your body melting into a pleasure-soaked haze as Matty fucks deep into you.
Your hips meet obscenely, lewd sounds filling the room as your world narrows down to the four walls, aware of nothing but him. “That’s it, princess. Let it all out, let Daddy hear those pretty noises, yeah? Nobody else gets to hear you like this, right?” he coos, pinching your clit and moaning softly as your cunt clenches around him reflexively.
“N-no,” you promise shakily, struggling to pull the words to the forefront of your mind, delirious with pleasure. “Only you, Daddy. Only one who can fuck me like this. So fucking good.” You choke on a gasp, Matty’s hips meeting yours over and over, your vision swimming, your body set adrift in an ocean of sheer ecstasy.
“Such a sweet girl,” Matty murmurs, teasing your clit as you whine powerlessly. Seemingly just for the fun of it, he slaps your ass again, the sweet sting tearing you open. Pleasure rushes through you, cradling your very organs, stoking a fire that chars your bones. “God, I love your pretty ass, darling. Can’t wait to fuck this tight little hole.” His words sink into your skin, wrapping tight around your sore muscles, ecstasy coiling in your veins. With what feels like a monumental effort, you rock your hips up towards him, Matty impossibly deep inside you.
The tip of his cock brushes that perfect spot inside you, sending a bright jolt of pure euphoria fizzing up your spine. A keening wail falls from your lips, a loud, uninhibited sound of undiluted pleasure. “Gettin’ close, angel? Wanna cum for your Daddy?” You nod wildly, indistinct, stifled pleas tumbling from your lips like prayers. “Go on, princess, cum for me. Cum all over my fuckin’ cock, make me cum.” In that same obedient, thoughtless way, you do. You choke and whimper and whine, drool pooling in your mouth and dripping out against the sheets as you moan the only word you know: Daddy. Euphoria burns white-hot under your skin, melting your organs until your body is made of liquid desire, messily strung together by flimsy ligaments. Matty’s touch is the only thing anchoring you to reality, your head still hazy as you drift back to Earth.
Matty’s pace is erratic, frenzied and wild and hot as your cunt pulses with aftershocks. “Cum on me,” you beg. “On my cunt, on my tits, on my face, I don't care. Just wanna see it, wanna feel it, want you to mark me, make me yours,” you plead, and Matty groans. He gives your ass one more swift smack for good measure and flips you over, your bruised skin screaming in protest as it presses into the sheets. Three quick passes of his fist over his cock and he’s cumming, white ropes splashing across your belly and up to your tits, painting your skin in a filthy, lurid display. “Thank you, Daddy,” you murmur as he breathes heavily above you. “Love bein’ your little cumdump.”
His head tips back, a disbelieving laugh bubbling free. “Such a good, sweet, pretty girl with such a filthy mouth, princess. So fuckin’ hot.” You smile proudly, dragging your fingers through his mess and sucking the taste of him off them. Matty’s eyes go wide, his head falling to lap at the skin between your tits, kissing and sucking ravenously at them. He makes his way up and presses his lips to yours, the taste of him smearing between your mouths, the kiss a filthy thing, alive with desire. “You’re beautiful,” he mumbles, hushed like he isn’t even aware of the words, and you flush.
“So are you,” you smile as he falls next to you, gazing adoringly into your eyes as your chests heave.
“We should get cleaned up,” he says with a weak chuckle, and you mumble an affirmative without even pretending to move. “Just a minute, princess, then I’ll get you cleaned up, cook us some dinner, yeah?” he promises, kissing you gently as your eyes flutter closed. Of course, the pair of you wake an hour or so later, dried cum on your belly and crusting into your brand-new lingerie, your thighs uncomfortably wet and sticking. Matty carries you into the bath, takes gentle care of you, the promised meal waiting when you pull yourself out of the now-lukewarm water. Pillar candles glow atop the dining table, the light sparkling off your wine glasses, and your heart melts.
It doesn’t take long for you to fall deeply, irrevocably in love with him; every passing day reveals something new to adore. The words spring to your lips at any and all moments, both opportune and not, and it starts to become a real struggle to swallow them back down. You don’t want to be too much, too soon, and truthfully you’re scared of what his answer will be, and even more so of how you’ll react.
Your private-not-secret relationship is your so-called friends’ favourite topic of discussion, so much so that you’re afraid it’ll get back to your parents before you’re ready for them to know. You try to keep them happy with minor tidbits, throw them off with misdirections (yes, he’s older; no, I won’t tell you by how much; no, my parents don’t know him), but their endless reserves of intrusion are starting to wear you down. Thea is your only confidante, the only one besides Matty himself who knows the ins and outs, and you’re fucking dying for someone new to brag and gush to. So when Matty texts you one day in mid-August, asking if you want to meet his friends, you jump at the chance.
My friends are absolutely desperate to meet you, by the way
Insist they have to meet this girl I won’t shut up about
I’ve been told to tell you Emerald Hill at 10pm on Saturday, and not to take no for an answer
If that tells you what kind of a bunch they are, fair warning
i’d love to :)
come pick me up at 8? then we’ll have time to get presentable before we have to go ;)
By the time Saturday rolls around, you’re practically fizzing with excitement, much to your parents’ suspicion — they’ve been sceptical all summer of how happy you’ve been, curious glances and pursed lips every time you so much as smile at your phone. The excitement has turned to nerves as you’re leaving Matty’s, though, roiling in your gut as you obsess over every detail that could go wrong. Matty wraps comforting arms around your waist from behind, kissing the top of your head and holding you close, the thump of his heartbeat at your back soothing. “Stop worryin’ so much, love. S’gonna be fine, okay?” He gives a boyish little grin as he opens the car for you. “Can’t wait for you to meet my boys. All my favourite people in one place,” he says, and you smile softly, that warm, fizzing affection you don’t want to give a name to creeping up your chest.
Matty lets you choose the music as you drive, shaking his head every time you queue up another glitter-gel-pen pop song. He takes your hand and leads you into the bar, a classy little place tucked into a street corner, his eyes lighting up as he catches sight of whoever you’re here to meet, swallowed into a bear hug by a tall blond when he reaches the table.
“Ah, mate, it’s been too long,” the other man says, pulling back and offering you a hand. “George.”
You look up into his face and your jaw drops. The hot DJ from that fateful night at 102 grins down at you, and your eyes widen as you try to take back your composure. Swallowing your tongue, you smile and give your name, taking a seat as Matty pulls a chair out for you. Just as you’re getting over that shock, you lock eyes with Charli and she smirks back at you.
“Sunshine Baby!” she exclaims. “Fancy seeing you here.”
You laugh, the tension in your shoulders loosening at the merest semblance of familiarity. “How do you remember that?” you laugh disbelievingly.
“Wait, you two know each other?” Matty interrupts.
Charli shrugs. “Sort of. Sunshine over here racked up a three hundred quid tab and tipped me a hundred on top. Don’t forget that in a hurry.”
You cover your face in embarrassment. “That makes me sound like an alcoholic,” you groan. “Your fault, by the way.” You poke Matty’s shoulder affectionately. “I was mad at you, practically fucking bought out the bar about it. Entire place got a free drink off me.”
“I like her,” another member of the group chimes in with a laugh. You look up to meet the eyes of the speaker, and– Jesus. One group of friends shouldn’t be allowed to have this many hot people in it. “Ross,” he says, and you smile politely. The last member of the party introduces himself as Adam, and you greet him with a smile, letting yourself get absorbed into rapid conversation and raucous laughter. “Right,” Ross interrupts. “Matty — you’re picking up the tab,” he declares. “Oh, don’t make that face,” he says as Matty scoffs. “Amount you drink, I’m not paying it on a teacher’s salary.”
You giggle. “Aw, give him a break. These days, I’m spending his money faster than he can make it,” you joke, and Charli cackles. You’re pleasantly tipsy, the alcohol loosening your lips and lifting the weight of anxiety in your chest, conversation flowing between you as easily as the wine in your glass. You cling to Matty as you leave, waving cheerful goodbyes and promising to text Charli to arrange a girls’ night.
“I’m gonna regret introducing you two, aren’t I?” Matty sighs, pulling you in close against the unseasonably cold wind, the warmth of his body soothing.
“No,” you giggle. “I love her. Wish I had friends like yours,” you say, wistful and slightly self-pitying as you slide into the car.
Matty cups your cheek, leaning in across the console to press a tender, loving kiss against your lips. “I’m sorry, baby. But you have me. Always gonna have me, yeah?”
Your heart flutters, those three little words rising in your throat once again. “I guess you’re a pretty good consolation prize,” you tease, pushing down the frightening intimacy of the moment with levity.
“Alright, alright,” he chuckles. “Wanna come back with me? Or do you want me to drop you home?”
You scoff. “Is that even a question?”
The rest of your summer passes quickly, too quickly. You spend more time at Matty’s house than home, more and more of your things finding their place there as time passes. You start going to visit him at work without any other justification, every step nerve-wracking as your father’s presence looms. You have one unbelievably close call when he’s in the lobby as you’re leaving, frantically slamming the door close button in the lift before he can turn and spot you. Ruby stays just as hostile, seething at you and muttering warnings that Matty’ll be bored soon every time you pass her by. You take a petty, savage pleasure in tormenting her, just a little, deliberately pulling Matty in for long, filthy kisses as you open his office door.
By the time you can’t put off going back to uni any longer, there’s barely any point in you being home at all. Naturally, Matty offers to be the one to drive you up, and you seize the opportunity to be alone with him for the last time in however fucking long. Your father is privately relieved not to be the one to have to, you can tell, accepting your explanation that Thea’s just passed her test and she’s offered to drive me. You don’t mind, do you? without question. Shows how much he knows; Thea’s failed her practical six times and counting.
When you arrive, Matty insists that you don’t lift a finger, carrying all of your boxes upstairs and giving you something to ogle in the process. You’re the last one back, your housemates smirking at you and nudging each other at the sight of him, fourteen years your senior with grey in his hair, kissing you filthy and unashamed in plain view. Later, you mouth behind his back, their answering giggles reminding you that you do have good friends, after all.
Matty looks devastatingly gorgeous in the late-autumn sunset, leaning against his car with a cigarette dangling from his lips. You snatch it with a smirk, stretching up to peck his lips and taking a deep drag. His smile melts you into goo, your heart hammering so fast it might smash free of your ribcage. If you don’t say it now, you’ll lose your nerve.
“I love you,” you rush out, muffled against his chest as he holds you, arms cradling your body tight and warm and safe. “You don’t have to say it back, I just… I do, and I want you to know.”
Matty pulls back to look at you, eyes soft with affection and adoration and maybe even something deeper. “Do you know how long I’ve been waitin’ to hear you say that, princess? God, I love you. I love you so fuckin’ much,” he groans, his hands at your waist the only thing keeping you upright as your knees go weak. “Think I might die, havin’ to be without you these next few weeks.”
You giggle, giddy with infatuation and devotion and… God, you can just say love, now. “I’ll be back soon, don’t worry. Could never stay away from you.”
#take a shot every time i reference one of my friends' fics in this series#fly high prof matty forever in our hearts#matty healy x reader#matty healy smut#matty healy imagine#the 1975 fanfic#the 1975 smut#writing#smut#white and gold
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the 2025 production of company featuring kermit
#hard as hell to draw this little man's head.#i was like oh i'll draw a muppet as a fun drawing exercise. realized i have no idea how this anatomy works#my second choice to play robert is ally beardsley
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hi... may i introduce to you the concept of winged!reader spreading their wings once hitting orgasm while having sex with alastor and alastor just wants to fuck winged!reader all over again
- 🪽
Levitating
Alastor x GN! Reader
TW:Gender neutral Afab Reader. 18+ This is not intended for minors. This is straight up the devils tango with our favorite deer man. Biting, Blood.
A/N: I GOT YOU WING ANON- I GOT YOU! Also I’m like super sorry if this is bad- I haven’t written smut for a male character and I’m hoping I’m doing your request justice.
The night went off without a hitch, your husband taking you out to the fanciest restaurant in all of hell. The dinner was amazing and you would be lying if you said hadn't been a little intoxicated from the wine he had treated you both too. But nothing too much to make you unable to walk back to the hotel with your darling husband. But now? You were very much intoxicated off of him and him alone. He was as much your world as you were his.
His hands resting on your hips guiding you to rut against the strained tent in his pants, causing you to gasp out in surprise as his teeth dug into your shoulder as you slowly stripped for him. Your wings expanding- fluttering at the feeling of his sharp teeth sinking into your flesh, his tongue pressing against where he bit down lapping up the blood. His half lidded eyes glancing up at you before he moved to kiss up your neck, hands moving to rub at the point where your wings met your back causing you to let out a loud whine. Your hands are moving to rub at his chest, fiddling with the top button of his shirt. “You taste divine, Darling” He purred out as his claws ripped your clothes off easily.
“Al-” You whispered as he waved a hand to ease your worries, “I’ll buy you some more, Cher~” You huffed and whined kissing his jaw as he moved to kiss down your chest. Fingers intertwining in his hair as he nipped and occasionally bit down leaving a trail of bloody bites and kisses. His hands wrapping around the back of your thighs giving them a gentle squeeze as his sharp claws started to leave behind thin trails of blood from where they dug into you. “Can I unbutton your shirt?” You whispered as he nodded and let out a low grunt. In a swift motion you easily unbuttoned his shirt allowing it to hang open as he removed his hands from your thighs.
~~~
Soft grunts and moans echoed throughout your bedroom as Alastor helped you bounce against his lap, face flushed as you clung to the chair that he was sitting in. His name was spilling out of your mouth like a prayer between moans and whimpers. Your hands shakily cupping his face as you pulled him into a kiss, a smirk gracing his lips before he bit down on your lip easily drawing blood. “Gonna break this fucking armchair.” You whined out causing him to let out a low chuckle moving you faster against him.
Your moans become louder by the second, knuckles turning white from how hard you were gripping the armchair. Alastor grunted as he threw his head back, chest heaving with every breath he took as he dug his clawed fingers into your hips. Slowly opening his eyes as you arched your back wings fluttering behind you. Reaching behind his head to hold onto the back of the armchair being extra careful not to hit his ears as you kissed his cheek, whimpering for him as he started to pound up into your cunt. Your walls eagerly squeezed his cock as you tried to milk him for all he had. Leaning into his body, hiding your face into his shoulder begging him for more.
Oh how could he deny his favorite songbird especially when they were singing his name like this? Panting, he let out a low growl as he bared his teeth in a wild smile his tail wagging, “Oh fuck Al-” you grunted out wings starting to twitch in anticipation as he pushed all the way into your cunt, leaving you stuffed full with his cum as your wings suddenly expanded as you released around him. A loud moan of his name escaped your lips as a few stray feathers fell onto the armchair around you both, shielding the display of you both.
You kept your hands resting on the armchair as you panted heavily. Unaware of how your husband stared at you, oh that was new for him to see. He liked it and he wanted to see it more. You were going to have a long night ahead of you.
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel imagine#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor x reader#alastor x you#hazbin hotel#alastor x gn!reader
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Warning: NSFW
Character aged up
You ask Katsuki if you can paint his PP🤭:
“No! Get the hell away from me!” And he starts walking away from you.
“But Katsuki! I’d make it so pretty. I already have a vision in mind. I want to paint it into a microphone! Maybe sing a song into it.” You say following behind him, positive you aren’t helping your situation.
“Y/N if you don’t get away from me right now, we are breaking up. I’m packing my shit and leaving and you’ll never see me ever again! I meant it.” And he plops down on the couch with an exaggerated groan. “You’ve lost your entire fucking mind, smooth brain.”
You know you’re gonna have to grovel for this one. You try to slide yourself onto his lap, but he pushes you off and you bounce a little on the couch cushions.
“No, you’re not kissing and snuggling your way into this. I’m not letting you practice your goddamn painting skills on my dick. Where do you even come up with this shit?” He says now looking at you with wide, concerned eyes.
“Well I was scrolling on TikTok-“
“And there it goes. I’m not even surprised.”
You lean over and run your hands over the his wide chest and buff arms.
“‘Suki when you think about, a microphone is only two colors. Black and grey. It would only take me like 5 minutes.” And then you start pressing kisses to his neck. “Pretty please. I’ll even hop in the shower with you after and help you clean up.” There’s a sultry lilt to your voice. This is something you pull out all the weapons in your arsenal for.
“Y/N i go along with a lot of your dumbass ideas, but I’m drawing the line. No paint on my d-dick. Fuck, cut it out.” You had slipped your hands down his stomach and right under the shorts he had on.
“But it’ll be easier to paint if its hard Kat, don’t ya think?” You whisper up against his ear. You run your thumb over the top and smear the precum over his slit.
“Ugghhh. I hate you, you know that.” He groans really low.
“Mmmmhhh. Pretty please,” you say and stroke down to the base of his cock and then back up. “With a cherry on top.”
“You have 10 f-fucking minutes! And that paint better be safe for skin or I swear to god!” He shouts at you.
You’re up and off the couch before he can even finish that sentence and within a minute you’re back with the paint you already had prepared and brushes.
You get down on your knees, in between his legs, and place your supplies on the ground next you. For him to be so against it, he’s already pulled off his shirt and underwear. He’s accepted his fate.
“Okay, if any of the brushes are uncomfortable or the paints don’t feel good, let me know k?” You say looking up at him.
This man has his arms crossed over his chest and he’s glaring daggers into you.
“What the hell ever woman. Hurry up, your time’s tickin.”
So you pick up a big fluffy brush and dip it into the black paint before you start working on the base of his dick.
As soon as the brush touches against his skin Katsuki screams bloody murder. Its scared the hell out of you and you’re surprised at yourself that you don’t drop the damn brush and get paint everywhere.
When you look up at him to ask him what’s wrong the bastard has a smirk on his goddamn face his shoulder are shaking because he’s holding in his laughter.
“You should’ve seen yourself. Your entire body took a screenshot. I thought you might go into shock.” Now he’s outwardly laughing loud as fuck.
He thinks he’s such a comedian. Well too bad for him because we’re a freakin party clown.
While he’s still laughing you bend down and take the head of his cock in your mouth and swirl your tongue all over it.
His laugh is cut short and you look up to see him squeezing his eyes shut. You pull your head back up and give him a sweet smile.
“So now, how about you cut out the jokes and let me focus on my masterpiece.” And you hear him grumble back some kind of rude response but you take that as an understanding.
You breathe and try to gain your composure before you start back on the task in front of you. You again start at the base of his cock and then do long stokes upwards until you get right below the shroomed tip.
You’re about halfway through when you notice his cock twitching and leaking pre all over.
Oh my gosh he likes this. Or it at least feels good because damn. When you look up at him there’s a blush covering his face and his lips are tight like he’s trying to hold in sounds that might escape. His eyes though are trained on the brush in your hand as you work.
You were about to speak when he cut you off, “Don’t. Just hurry up and finish”
“Yes sir” you say slyly as your start working on the other side.
“Ok. Base is done. Now the tip, I know how sensitive you are so I’ll try to be gentle.” And now you’re the one with a smirk on your face. “Look I can’t paint correctly if there’s precum constantly leaking up here.”
“The fuck do you want me to do. I’m not making it leak out on purpose.” He rolls his eyes at, throws his head back and uses his arm to cover his face. Hes not quick enough to cover the blush that’s dusting his cheeks.
It’s so funny that he still get embarrassed in front of you. You take your thumb and lightly run it over the top to pick up as much pre as possible then you pop it in your mouth. Then you get to work.
You dab lightly around it and make sure to avoid the opening. You hear Katsuki’s breath become more ragged.
“Ok, I’m all done. Take a look.” He removes his arms and leans his head back up. You see that his eyes are blown but you try to ignore it for now. “Do you see the vision?”
“This is so dumb.” Is the only answer you get from him.
Next thing you know you’ve wrapped your hand around it and you start singing. “ANNNNDDDDD IIIIIIIII—eeeee-IIIIII will always love Y-“
You’re cut off because he’s gotten up grabbing you with him and now you’re thrown over his shoulder.
“I’m done with this. Not about to watch you sing Karaoke into my penis. You promised me a shower.”he says as he starts striding toward the bathroom.
“But I wasn’t done! I wanted to take pictures and maybe rap a verse or two. Kats wait dammit.”
“No. I was nice. I let you play and have your fun. Now it’s my turn to play around and have some fun.” You can hear the smug grin on his face.
You take this opportunity and slap his naked ass hard asf. You were right outside the bathroom door and the jerk sets you on your feet so quickly you feel like you’re gonna fall.
“You’re gonna pay for that brat.”
And oh do you pay for it.😭
Katsuki Masterlist
Tags: @dreamcastgirl99 @i-literally-cant-with-this @xxvendettaxx @justbepeace @moonpieshawdy @theloveofnagiseishiroslife
*I have a tag list. Let me know if you wanna be added💕🤗
#tootietalks#imagine#bakugou x reader#mha fanfiction#bakugou drabble#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugou katsuki#drabble#katsuki bakugo mha#bakugo headcanons#katsuki bakugou x reader#bakugou katsuki smut#katsuki smut#katsuki bakugo smut#bnha katsuki#bakugo katsuki#katsuki bakugo#katsuki bakugou#katsuki#katsuki bakugo x reader#bnha bakugou#bakugo
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Lucifer x m!reader
This became longer than I planned but I hope you enjoy! Warning that I'm better at f!reader so if I made any mistakes please let me know.
Requests are open :))
Lucifer x m!reader headcannons:
SFW
introductions first:
this man gets FLUSTERED when you show him 'proper' respect as the Ruler of Hell.
You're shy? You don't know what to do in the face of such royalty, such a powerful man. You attempt a bow, a low sweeping gesture that has you awkwardly bending at the waist and averting your gaze
Lucifer cannot help himself but think the display is adorable, hands resting against his cane, and an overly-confident smile gracing his face. He looks far too smug for his own good. He ignores the heat rising to his cheeks at seeing you stoop before him, fingers tapping at his cane as he watches you with a steady gaze, enjoying the way you flounder before him.
You're confident? You bow confidently, a mocking smile on your face, hands sweeping out to your sides in a little satirical theatrical display? You stare at him with a smirk, bright eyes from beneath dark locks?
Lucifer cannot ignore the heat rising to his cheeks, flustered at the overt display of... something.
He clears his throat quickly and has to look away, your gaze too much as you straighten and fix your clothing.
He will certainly remember that look later.
When he first meets you his interest in piqued, and this man falls hard and fast. Like a piece of gum stuck to your shoe, you cannot be rid of him.
He 'just so happens' to be in the same parts of Hell as you, running 'errands' despite his many servants.
Conveniently he just so happens to have a gift ready when he bumps into you. A donut? A bouquet of flowers? A rubber duck? You leave all of these interactions carrying something in your hands.
The first time you ask to meet him? Practically skips home, and rings Charlie straight away. He doesn't stop thinking about your not-a-date until it actually happens. And then he can't stop thinking about it afterward.
He constantly fiddles with his cane, and uses it often to tease you.
Taller than him? He uses it to tap against your shoulders and head to grab your attention, reprimanding you with a flirty tug of his cane, drawing you down to his level.
He loves pulling you down to his height from your tie or from the lapels of your jacket, pressing a long kiss through a grin against your lips. He always makes sure to straighten your garments back out when he's finished with you.
Shorter than him? He constantly swings his arms over your shoulders and waist, tugging you closer and flushing you against his side. When you stand too far for his hands to reach, the cane corrals you towards him, guiding you into his side with incessant taps and tugs.
His favourite move is slotting the tip of his cane into one of your belt loops, yanking you closer and into his embrace. His fingers often find their way to your belt loops, tugging you closer no matter the situation.
This man is not the best cook, but he simply adores when you cook for him. He always offers to help, but spends most of the time in the kitchen leant against the counter top, sometimes sat atop the counter, watching you work with a fond little smile on his face. He really is whipped.
Lucifer's love language is words of affirmation, acts of service and physical touch.
He'll do anything to be closer to you: tugs you into his lap while he works at his desk, arms encircling your waist as he listens to you ramble about your day. He may not look like he's paying attention, and you keep getting distracted by the soft kisses he presses against your jaw as he works, but if you were to ever ask him to recite what you just told him? he could do it with ease.
Despite the abundance of furniture in his mansion, he always ends up sat practically on top of you, or drags you on top of him as he reads or watches TV. He loves having you close, and loves it even more if you reciprocate his touchy-ness.
Will melt if you absentmindedly run your hands through his hair as you read something next to him.
Loves seeing you wear his clothes, especially his coat. His outfit is unmistakeable, and when you wear it there is no question about who you belong to. Any excuse he slips it from his frame and drapes it across your shoulders. He refuses to take it back so you just continue to wear it the rest of the day.
Graces you each morning with a kiss on your forehead, leaving his lips pressed against you and his arms wrapped around your torso until you wake up. Only then does he grin and lean in for a proper kiss.
NSFW
LOVES blowjobs. Giving or receiving.
Receiving: he's a flustered mess. Cheeks flaming red and hands gripping at his armrests, his thighs, his own shirt.
He's vocal: one touch and he's gasping. Anything more than a feather-light touch has him outright begging and moaning.
Giving: loves using it as a way to help you relax. You've had a hard day? He's kneeling between your legs as soon as you sit on the sofa. Complaining about someone at work? His hands are already on your belt. You have a headache? Let him distract you (only if you consent).
Loves when you tug on his hair.
Call him a 'good boy' or a 'pretty boy' and he falls over himself trying to get to you.
Call him one of those cheekily in public? He's whisking you away to more secluded corners immediately, and he won't be told otherwise.
If he really can't whisk you away, you feel his hot gaze against you the rest of the day. He won't forget.
He's cheeky, and attentive, and is absolutely terrible at keeping his hands to himself.
There is constantly a hand at the small of your back, grasping at your thigh, your knee, your forearm, anything he can reach.
You know he's in the mood when he waltzes into your living room, plops himself directly into your lap, and grins.
He'll act all innocent at first, asking about your day, carding his hand through your hair, offering sympathetic nods and mutterings as you vent.
Then his lips find their way to your cheek, your jaw, your throat, hands sliding across your shoulders and down your chest.
You stop, eager to comply with his wants. But he always shushes your with a tut and tells you to keep going, keep telling him about your day.
He loves watching you slowly lose your composure, teasing and pushing at you until you finally snap and grab his neck and finally pull his lips to yours.
He moans, pushing himself into your chest and down into your hips. He loves when you finally take control.
He's not ashamed of how vocal he is; he moans, he cries, he begs. His voice breaks and he's whiny. Isn't satisfied until his voice is coarse and his throat hurts.
Especially loves when his head is pushed into the bedsheets as you thrust into him so he can be as loud as he wants without the risk of drawing any of his servant over.
The only time he really gets on 'top' is early morning sex. He can't have you exerting yourself before the day has even started can he?
Loves waking you up with kisses pressed against the nape of your neck, continuing around the base of your throat as you turn to embrace him.
He likes to take things gentle and slow, thrusting into you at a leisurely but firm pace, face tucked between your neck and shoulder as he kisses against the warming skin.
If you really want to take the reigns one morning, he won't stop you. Falling onto his back with a laugh and a grin. But oh how he loves laying on top of you, sheets tangled between you legs, bringing you to a slow and steady but powerful release.
He doesn't stop when you finish, continuing that same slow agonising pace, whispering praises in your ear as your hands entwine into his hair.
He always likes to rest afterwards, kissing at you and playing with your hand as he talks about the duties he has to complete that day. But before long he's always tugging you to the bathroom, chirping about you both being absolutely filthy and needing a shower, but that grin he sends your way tells you you'll barely be any cleaner afterwards.
#Lucifer hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel lucifer#Lucifer morningstar#Lucifer x reader#Lucifer x male reader#Lucifer x m!reader#hazbin hotel x reader
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Hiii
Alastor X human!reader where she is desperate to make a deal for fame and glory.
She tries to summon a demon, accidentally conjuring Alastor. Beside her feisty facade she’s quite innocent and naive. He’s intrigued by her and toys with her, like a prey,tricking her into him, she signs the deal. He’ll come back after 1yr to collect his pretty little prize…her body and soul. 🌶️🔥
Title: A Price to Pay
part 2
You frowned at the check your boss had handed you.
Too little. You looked at your boss, a nervous smile on your lips as a laugh bubbled out of your throat ”haha this is half of what i should be getting. That’s funny, where's the rest? Am i getting that in cash or some?” Your boss laughed “HA! No thats what you’re getting for the week‘
Your eyes damn near popped out of your head.
For the week?
This was your pay for the entire week?
Oh hell no!
You poked a finger into the mans chest “What?! The whole week? I’ve been singing my ass off in this shit hole for two weeks! Where are my commissions?” You were angry!
He gave a low laugh as he pulled out a cigar ”You think just because you’re my best in this joint that I wasn’t gonna get the Final Cut? You better take it before i hand your ass nothing”
You sniffled as you wiped at your runny nose.
The yellow paper with EVICTION stared at you as you felt another wave of tear hit you.
Why?
Why couldn’t you just make enough to stay afloat?
Why did you have to suffer?
Why didn’t fate grant you mercy?
You had been busting your ass for months trying to make enough money to just pay the damn pills.
You were the best singer on your side of town and that shit hole needed a singer almost every night and when big shots went there. The money wasn’t terrible, it beat standing out on the pier at night, waiting to be taken to gods know where.
You laughed dryly, you would gladly get pimped out if it meant that you could still afford food to eat.
Why was life so cruel?
You had worked so hard and it felt like it was all for nothing.
You could hear your momma in your head
”You wanna dream big? Then never let life beat you down. Take it by the balls and make your dream a reality”
The next thing you know, you found yourself pulling out your mother’s old grimoire and drawing symbols on your bedroom floor.
what the hell were you doing?
You used to scoff at your mother when she did spells.
Because magic wasn’t real…right?
But it felt like you had no other option as you threw some herbs into the small fire pot.
Momma used to tell you about all types of things that were possible with a little magic. That you always had friends on the other side who could help if you knew what you doing.
And you indeed had no fucking clue.
But you were tired, angry, and desperate and wanted to do something about it.
This was your life!
You felt your body tingle as you chanted the incantation.
The room turned cold and the fire from the candles blew out. The building started to shake as you spoke the last verse and suddenly you were thrown back from an explosion in the middle of your pentagram.
You watched in terror as the floor glowed red and rising from the smoke was a very large demon.
You panicked as it began to stand, gulping at its full height.
Oh what did you just do?
—————————————————
Alastor blinked as he stood. Fanning the smoke away from his face, he grimaced once he saw the pentagram, candles, and herbs. Who dared? His ears perked at the sound of heavy breathing. He turned his head and red eyes caught sight of a mortal woman standing against the wall, eyes wide.
He took a step towards her, head tilting as she cowered away. He huffed as he got to the edge of the protection boundary. He gave her a smile, sharp teeth glistening with narrowed eyes
“Hello my dear”
——————————————————————
You took in the tall demon that stood in your bedroom.
He was dressed like one of those fancy gents.
Red and black tailored suit with a cane.
You watched as he curled his lip when he saw your protection boundary. You felt your body freeze as his eyes met yours.
Red.
Glowing red.
He was rather handsome looking for a demon.
He reminded you of-
“Deer” you squeaked, causing Alastor to tilt his head, ears flicking.
oh come on! You can’t be scared of something that you’re in control of!
”Hello my dear” you heard him say. He stood on the cusp of the salt boundary giving you his full attention.
That smile of his was very uncanny.
You shivered.
You found your nerves and puffed your chest out
”Hello demon-sir”
”Alastor” you blinked at him “w-what?”
He never lost that smile “The names Alastor. Pleasure to meet you” you were at a lost for words. Alastor took your silence to look around, your spellbook caught in his attention before he took you in.
You cleared your throat “I summoned-” “conjured” “You to um make a deal?” You said uncertain
Alastor smirked “oh reallly? And what makes you think Ill make a deal with a human like you?”
You frowned ”You don’t have a choice! I summoned YOU here you have to do what I ask!’
He laughed darkly “Oh my dear that isn’t how things work” he looked back at the salt ”lets chat”
You didn’t trust him, but he seemed friendly girl don’t do it
you inched close and with a sweep of your foot, dusted a bit of the salt to let him through.
Alastor stepped through and now you were being towered over.
Alastor took you in.
what a small thing you were. He was sure you had no idea what you were doing or dealing with.
But if it was deal you wanted, he will grant that.
”What do you want?”
You wrung your hands nervously as you spilled your sad excuse of a life and your far fetched dream.
You felt a surge of determination as you finished your little rant “That’s why I need a deal! I deserve to rise to the top! I’ve worked my ass off for years and nothing! Why-Why should I settle for this? My life deserved to be full of glamor and money! I deserve that right? Right! S-s-so what do you say”
Oh what an innocent thing you were.
Such a fire that had nowhere to burn.
Perfect
Alastor feigned mulling it over, your face dropping as he walked away from you.
”A deal works both ways my dear”he started as he turned back to you “What will you give me in return?” His smile stretched across his face as his calm facade faded.
You gulped but you were not gonna back out “Ill give you anything j-just please I don’t care what I have to do!”
He was in front of you in a flash, making you take a step back nervously
“Anything?” A clawed hand squished your cheeks hard as he leaned his face to yours
”prove it” he purred
You blinked. How the hell were you suppose to do that?
Nothing in this world is free. Your momma taught you that and your warning bells were screaming.
His thumbs was running over your lips and you opened your mouth to suck it.
You could die right now. Was this worth it? To give up your dignity to a demon?
Alastor growled and in a swift motion, you were on your bedroom floor, heart thumping in your ears as you looked up at the demon on top of you.
Alastor’s free hand swiped down your body, tearing your clothes to shreds, leaving you naked.
You felt a soft heat curl in your stomach.
Alastor laughed darkly as he took in your naked form. His hand dipped down and thumbed at the small bundle of nerves, causing you to jolt.
Oh he was going to have fun with you
”One year.” He said as he dipped a finger into your tight heat.
You gasped around his finger.
”You’ll get your fame. You’ll have riches and power beyond your imagination. A top star. It’ll all be yours. But in one year you are mine. Your soul and body. Do we have a deal?” He was slowly fingering you, relishing in the softness your cunt offered as it squeezed around him.
Your body and soul in exchange for glory.
Did you still want this?
”yes” you whimpered
A green glow emitted around the two of you. Alastor eyes glowed and his antlers grew as he plucked his thumb from your mouth and slammed his lips onto yours as he rubbed your clit as he slammed his fingers into you.
”mmmhmm hmmm!’ You cried into his mouth as your orgasm hit you.
Your cunt clenched around him, creamy slick drowning his hand.
Your body buzzed as he retracted his fingers, watching in bliss as he licked your cum off his fingers.
”Oooh such a sweet cunt” He Purred at you as he scooped you up into his arms to lay you on your bed.
”Ill always keep close watch my dear, so don’t think you can back out of this” he said, you blinked sleepily as you felt the coldness of a necklace clasped around your neck.
“One year my dear”
Your world faded to black.
pt 2 coming soon..hehehe
@thewinchestah @catherine1206 @stygianoir @jellibean2018 @markster666 @strawberrypimp666 @3verlark @alastor-simp @alastorsaries @alastwhore666 @gojosaturos-wife @tojirights @polytheatrix @dennsfz @horrorartsworld @prosciuttosblog @yourdoorisunlocked @dievia3 @alastorsdarling @t0byisher3 @mneferta @purplecatsandhearts @alishii @okay-babe @danveration @absurd-ash @peachedtv @simphornies @fatnug @alastorsdear @alastwhore666 @stawberrypimpsimp @altruisticalastor @queenariesofnarnia @scaramoochiie @rradio-static @someonethatsnotimportantplshelp @squeekycheesecurd @squixythebee @catmunist @lbcreations-blog @coleisyn @bratty2bunny @v0xsw1fe @alstorloml @fizzled-phoenix @siiv3r @k1y0yo @yunimimii @wisteria-seal @kassa-stardust
#hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#alastor#alastor the radio demon#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel fanfiction#jyoongim#alastor x y/n#alastor smut#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel smut
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Save A Horse, Yadda Yadda…
pairing: Joel Miller x reader
summary: you find yourself getting distracted by the man next to you. his thick fucking thighs always grabbed your attention
warnings: 18+, smut, thigh riding, slight degradation, bit of dirty talk, reader gets called a good girl, oral (f receiving) but literally for a second, use of pet names (honey, baby, sweetheart)- lemme know if i forgot anything
w.c.: 2k
⁺˚°｡⋆♱✮˖☽𓋼𓍊◯𓍊𓋼☾˖✮♱⋆｡°˚⁺
It was a relatively slow, easy day in Jackson. You had got caught up on house chores, which albeit, there wasn't much to do anyhow. Joel did patrol early in the morning and had the rest the day to wind down, and Ellie was hanging out with Dina.
Flipping through a book, only paying half-attention while you skimmed the pages, you caught yourself stealing glances at Joel who sat beside you on the floral printed couch. He whittled away at a block of wood, working on a new little side project with careful focus. The sound of a sharp blade gliding across the surface of each corner was the only thing that could be heard.
Perhaps that's what was distracting you.
Slow.
Or perhaps it was the way his biceps flexed under that shirt of his, or the way his veins seemed to protrude from the top of his hands and up his forearm with each thought out stroke.
Maybe it was also the way he was sitting with his legs spread, letting the wood shavings and chips fall to the floor that he always promises to 'clean up after.' How his thighs appeared thicker, meatier when he's sat like this in that pair of denim that you innocently, accidentally, shrank just a tad bit when you last did laundry.
Your own thighs clenched together.
Easy.
"Don't hurt yourself now." Joel's low voice brought you out of your stupor with a snap of your head, uttering a small noise of confusion.
"You're thinkin' too hard." Joel clarified, flicking his gaze to you briefly as he swiped another stray chip from his lap.
'Smartass.' You thought before letting out a soft hum in reply and lean back against the couch, closing your book and tossing it onto the coffee table.
There was a beat of silence. Your eyes trailed over Joel's body again, breath hitching with the image of his large, broad frame.
He seemed to have noticed the way you eyed him so hungrily while lost in your thoughts, his gaze following yours to his lap. With a smirk, Joel took the opportunity to spread his legs a bit wider, knee pressing against yours subtly.
You watched and squeeze your thighs together once more.
Gotcha.
"Hey," he murmured before setting his project down on the end table next to him. "What's goin' on in that pretty li'l head'a yours?"
“Nothing,” You answered, the side of your face turning up somewhat with a wince at how quickly you responded.
Joel scoffed and folded his arms over his chest and sat back, head tilting disbelievingly with a cock of his brow, “Yeah? So y’ain’t starin’ at me like some piece’a meat?”
You rubbed at your nose as you felt the all-too-familiar warmth of embarrassment kiss at your face, but you couldn’t deny it. Joel had meat for days under all that clothing. So thick, and big, and-
“Lookit ya! You’re still doin’ it.” Joel gestured a hand towards you, brows drawing together with a shake of his head.
“Am not!”
“Bullshit!”
He turned his head and scratched at his chin, nails scraping the graying facial hair before he looked over at you again. His eyes trailed you up and down, and with a sigh he grabbed at your hips, eliciting a surprised yelp from you, and settled you onto his lap.
“What’re you doing?” You asked, instinctively placing your hands on his shoulders for stability.
“It’s not what I’m doin’,” he muttered and hooked a hand in the bend of your knee, gently making you spread a bit wider, “It’s what you’re doin’.”
Your brows furrowed this time, nose scrunching with confusion. You part your lips to speak, to ask what the hell he’s talking about, but that all quickly went down the drain the moment he had you roll forward.
A soft moan replaced all words instead, your eyes fluttering shut as you ground against him.
“Mhm,” Joel noised, watching you with a stoic mask. “ ‘S’what I thought.”
He kept force-rocking your body, arms flexing and grip tightening.
Back and forth, back and forth.
“Joel,” You panted, eyes screwing shut with a fall of your head.
“Hm? That feel good, baby?” He cooed, voice mockingly sweet. You nod and he watched with a smug look plastered on his face. “Yeah, poor thing jus’ wanted some attention, huh?”
Joel’s cock began to twitch inside his already-too-tight pants- which, by the way, he knew for a fact was your doing- and he unclasped his belt skillfully with one hand, undoing the button and lowered the fly.
“You’re gonna ride my thigh,” He instructed, pulling out his half-hard length from his briefs, “an’ I’ll think about lettin’ ya cum.” His other hand slid down from your hip and to your knee, giving a light squeeze.
Your eyes snapped open. What the fuck does he mean, ‘I’ll think about it’?
“Aht!” He could see the disapproval etched on your features, the way your brain was racking up some counter argument. “Don’t wanna hear it. Y’already lied twice t’me now; so excuse me for not playin’ nice.”
Joel swiped a tongue over his bottom lip before giving his cock a tug, “An’ I think I’m bein’ awfully fuckin’ generous lettin’ you hump my leg like a damn bitch in heat.” His voice was low, almost inaudible as he narrowed his eyes.
With a huff of air, you continue rolling your hips, forward and down. Then you tried moving side-to-side, chasing after a high that wasn’t there. Your body slowed before stilling completely and take in a sharp, frustrated breath.
“I didn’t say stop,” Joel gruffly spoke, eyes piercing into your skull.
“I’m not getting anywhere, Joel,” You complained before letting your head slump into the crook of his neck. What was once a pleasurable feeling, dry-humping his thigh, got uncomfortable fairly quickly with the way the seam from your jeans dug into you.
“Kinda the point, ain’t it?” The man retorted and tilt his head down to take a look at the pitiful frown on your lips. He chewed at the inside of his cheek for a moment, feeling his heart soften. Joel was mean, sure, but he wasn’t evil.
Finally, Joel conceded and tapped at your leg, “Alright, get up.”
He held your hands to spot you as you slid off his lap, back to your feet. Then his large fingers worked to get your pants off, helping you shimmy out of the denim. Joel gazed at your lower figure fondly, a faint smile creeping on his face as he hooked his finger into your panties, swiftly tugging them down. The man let out a low whistle at the sight of your slick-coated folds, then leaned in, tongue seeking out your entrance briefly before swiping back up to your clit. Your breathing hitched, legs twitching at the new pleasure making your stomach burn hot, then he pulled away again, not before leaving a delicate kiss under your navel.
“Come on back, honey,” Joel’s voice eased from his stern tone, now more gentle and loving. He guided you back over his thigh and closed a fist around the head of his dick once more. A shudder ran up your spine as your lips came in contact with the fabric of his pants, your arousal already soaking the denim. Before you could start moving again, he gripped your chin in his free hand, lightly squeezing to make your lips part and directed them over his length. “Spit.”
Complying willingly, you let saliva gather in your mouth and drooled all over the head and top of his fingers.
“Good girl,” Joel praised lowly and began stroking himself. “Go ‘head, sweetheart.”
Once you got the green light, your hips shifted tentatively before falling into an easy rhythm. An airy sigh pushed past your lips in content as your head fell back into place on Joel’s shoulder. A hand came up to hold it in place, fingers carding through your hair.
“That’s it, baby, jus’ like that.” He murmured, fist tightening around his dick as he watched you greedily get yourself off. Moans and grunts and breathy exhales sounded through the room, along with the wet smacking of Joel’s cock gliding through his hand.
“Actin’ like such a needy slut,” Joel commented, lip curling into a snarl before a low chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Can’t go two seconds without makin’ a mess’a yourself.” The way Joel went back and forth from degrading to loving then back damn near gave you whiplash.
You mewl into his shirt and clench around air, hips picking up speed while you gripped his bicep. Joel’s thigh was damp with your arousal, the warmth seeping into the fabric and vaguely hitting his skin.
“Or a mess’a me,” He added with a pleased glint in his eyes. You felt his body shake with each passing stroke of his fist. The fact he was getting off to you getting off on him made you shiver with delight. Heat began to build up in your core, stomach fluttering and tightening while goosebumps erupted across your body. You lift your head from his shoulder and crash your lips against his messily; teeth closing, tongues swirling.
You retreat, just enough to speak, “Joel,” the pitch of your voice raised in warning, hips stuttering as your forehead rest against his.
“No,” He denied flatly.
“Joel,” You repeated. Pathetically, Joel thought.
“Gotta learn your lesson somehow,” he countered with an unbothered face, tone lacking sympathy. “If ya wanted some lovin’ y’know ta ask. I’ll take care’a ya.” His own breathing hitched as his thumb swiped over his slit, wiping precum down the underside of his shaft as that close feeling creeped up on him as well.
“But ya didn’t do that, didja? Then you lied-“
“I didn’t wan- fuck- didn’t wanna bother you,” You explained in a hurried slur of your words, throwing your head back while desperately trying to hold off on your orgasm.
Joel’s face softened, but just barely. His tongue clicked, gaze trailing down your neck and to your breasts that subtly bounced with each move of your lower body, then to your pussy gliding back and forth across his denim clad thigh.
Fuck it.
“Okay,” he breathed out with a curt nod and grasped your chin once more, leading you back to face him, “You’re gonna cum- but you’re gonna look at me when ya do, got it?”
You nod against his palm, brows curving inward as your eyelids flutter; the coil on the verge of releasing.
“Repeat it.”
A heavy sigh escaped your lungs, “I look at you wh-when I c- oh, fuck-“ Your eyes widened, cunt clenching as your body convulsed and writhed over top of him.
He smirked proudly when you couldn’t even finish your reply. Your slick spread further over his leg and he relished the feeling. “Good fuckin’ girl, that’s it.”
You continue to ride your high out, eyes never leaving Joel’s. His lips press against yours once more, tongue flicking over your bottom lip before pushing it in. Your hands came up to cradle his face while you swallowed down every single moan and grunt leaving Joel’s throat just as he spilled himself into his fist.
Breaths labored, chests heaving, and legs trembling. You break the kiss and smile down at him before planting a quick peck to the bridge of his nose, making him smile.
“I love you,” Joel whispered, wiping the mess off his fingers onto his pants. Eh, they needed to be cleaned anyways.
“I love you,” You say back. He lies down, pulling you on top as he catches his breath. “I’ll wash your jeans for you next time I do laundry.”
He hums softly, closing his eyes and slips his hand under your shirt, soothingly running his nails up and down your back, “Sounds good,” There was a beat, then, “Jus’ don’t shrink them any further.”
⁺˚°｡⋆♱✮˖☽𓋼𓍊◯𓍊𓋼☾˖✮♱⋆｡°˚⁺
thank you for reading <3 and thank you for all the love on my previous fics. for the longest time i never posted any of my stories to tumblr because i felt they weren’t “good enough” haha. it’s genuinely keeping me motivated to keep writing and hone my skill, so please feel free to keep reblogging and/or leaving a comment <3
#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel tlou#joel miller tlou#the last of us hbo#tlou#joel miller x you#pedro pascal#the last of us#joel miller the last of us#joel miller imagine#joel miller fanfic#joel miller smut#joel x reader#joel the last of us#tlou hbo#tlou fanfiction#the last of us fanfiction
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do you think there is tension between the pack and her after her heat stops? I can only imagine she's extremely flustered
Oh Absolutely-
Poly TF141 x Omega! Reader Headcanons
(Poly TF14 x F! Omega Reader)
(Part Five: Interest)
Tags: Omegaverse, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Hidden designations, Alpha! John Price, Alpha! Simon 'Ghost' Riley, Beta! Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick, Omega! John 'Soap' MacTavish, Omega F! Reader, Group dynamics, Poly TF141, Omega discrimination, Slow burn
Masterlist
You wake on the final day of your heat alone
You fell asleep on Gaz's chest, panting into his neck with fever, and it was only once he scruffed you, kneaded your gland with his thumb and whispered husky little affirmations in your ear that you finally calmed
It doesn't take you long to figure out that you're finally (mostly) back to normal. You're no longer feverish, your head feels clear, and though your body is exhausted, your joints no longer hurt, your head doesn't throb
By some mercy, you aren't devastatingly horny anymore either
Your bed is littered with clothes that aren't yours, and you can tell by the scent alone who they belong to. Your body remembers the press of Ghost and Price inside you, hovering over you in the desert heat as they tried to calm the horrific sickness inside you, flush your system free of toxins
You've never held it against them. They saved your life, even if it was through means out of your control. Yet now your legs clench at the memory, the distant wish that somehow they might do it again.
It's awkward as hell, and by the next day when you're back to duties you do your best to avoid all of them, head ducked and skittering out of sight in a mixture of shame and bashfulness at the desire carving it's way inside you
It's wrong. Their your commanding officers. Your superiors. What they did was simply a favor, making sure you weren't horrifically sick and or dying. Nothing more than that
When Soap calls for you in the mess hall, when Gaz tries to sidle up to you at the firing range, when Ghost postures behind you after drills to ward off other alphas, when Price pulls you aside- you find ways to slink out of sight, face too warm and eyes turned down
You know they notice, you know they're confused, maybe even hurt, but you try to tell yourself it's for the best. You just need to tough it out for a few more weeks before you're back on suppressants again
You can't avoid them forever though, and eventually you're summoned on another mission with them
Price catches you by the arm before you load up, eyes you and forces you to meet his gaze before inquiring softly about you, and you tremble under his scrutiny, insist "I'm fine, captain."
You can see in the tight draw of his lips he doesn't believe you, and you can't blame him. Yet he releases you, strides past you onto the plane
You're in Al-Mazrah, hunting down an ex-pat who defected to AQ, one who holds valuable intel that you can't allow to fall into the wrong hands
It's a simple mission. Capture, do not kill. A hunting expedition
One that turns wrong too quickly
You're clearing a building when you see a shadow out of the corner of your eye. It moves too fast to trace, and before you can aim at it a arm wraps around your chest, a hand moving to your face too late to silence your scream
Your attacker hisses in a language you don't understand, but between the words you can make out a single one that is all too familiar
"Omega."
You freeze, feel dread wash icy through your veins before thrashing violently, trying to reach for the blade tucked in your tac vest
You don't get the chance, because the rush of your heart beat is deafened by a feral, roaring growl that echoes deep in the chest of a familiar form
Ghost.
The alpha rips the man from you, all but throws him against a wall so hard you hear something crack- unsure if it's bone or plaster
You tremble where you stand, shaken, forcing yourself to reach for your blade, when a hand settles gently on yours
"Stay."
The word is growled in a low, gruff order, one that reeks of alpha authority, and you look up to see Price's teeth bared in a sneer, watching as the alpha before he towers over the crumpled form of your attacker
Something inside you withers away gently, and in your shaken state you press into Price's side instinctively, watching your other alpha raise his weapon and fire once into the man's skull
Price's arm wraps around you reflexively, tucking you further into his side protectively
It shouldn't shake you, this. You've had far worse encounters than this one, but the echo of the man's voice in your ears, purring a low, threatening growl resounds endlessly in your thoughts. "Omega."
He was going to hurt you
He never got the chance
Ghost strides over to you, long steps quickly closing the distance, and in any other context you'd retreat from him, his towering posture indicative of a threat
Now, however, you lean up into his hands as they cup the sides of your face, turn it back and forth to look for wounds. One finger grazes across your scent gland with intoxicating, familiar smell, and your knees wobble
"Solid?" Price asks you, and you force yourself to nod in reassurance
"S-solid." You answer despite the waver of your voice, and though both of them nod, they seem reluctant to release their hold on you
There's a distant part of your brain that slinks velvety across your thoughts, and you're unable for a moment to ignore the overwhelming instinct of warmth, safety, protection, shelter, Alpha-
"Easy, omega." Price soothes, and it snaps you back to yourself, realizing your want has somehow bled into your scent. You look to the captain, aghast, but there's only a fond amusement there that makes your heart flutter deep beneath your stomach
The rest of the mission goes smoothly, and you notice Price and Ghost sticking closer to you than usual. It's only once you get back to base, wash their scents from you that you realize
You're already theirs
#poly 141 x reader#modern warfare 2#cod mw2#omegaverse tf 141#omegaverse cod#omegaverse dynamics#omegaverse#drabbles#headcanons
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Down. (141 x Reader.)
!CW! NSFW, Smut, double penetration, sex pollen, unprotected sex, gang bang (100% consensual.) THIS IS A GROUP SEX FIC, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. MINORS DNI. !Repost!
Not edited* you can find the ask for this here.
This was easily the most important interview of your life.
Everything you’ve studied for, all of the hard work you’ve put in. Everything. It’s all getting put on the line today.
You sat on the uncomfortable leather couch in the suspiciously nice waiting room, waiting for your name to be called. A man sitting next to you startles you a little and he chuckles. “Sorry, didn’t mean t’ scare ya.” He laughs. You notice his accent before his large build and Mohawk. It’s a lot of man to suddenly throw at a woman.
“It’s alright.” You smile. “You uh.. waiting for an interview or something?” He asks, noticing your pretty dress and heels. “Yeah.. that obvious?” You giggle. “Just a little. I bet a fine lass like you will do great.” He winks. Your cheeks turn red and you roll your eyes. “Thank you. What are you here for?” You ask. “Just waiting for a friend to get done in the lab.” He smiles. He’s got a pretty smile, he’s a really attractive man. You nod your head. “So.. what are you interviewing for?” He asks. “Oh… uh.” You readjust yourself. “It’s a family planning therapist.” You nod. He looks confused. “What’s that mean?”
You smile. “Well.. if I were to get the job, I would speak with new patients. Setting up a plan, the best approach for them. Which tests will work for them better. Stuff like that.” You run your tongue over your bottom lip. “Gotcha. That sounds pretty cool really.” He smiles. “Yeah. What this place does is pretty cool.”
He purses his lips, “yeah. Pretty cool.” He mumbles. Just as he’s about to speak up again, you’re getting called up to the front desk. “Mrs. Phillips is ready for you now.” The receptionist smiles, passing you all of your paperwork. You thank her, making your way up to the elevator. You pressed the top floor, 16.
16 floors of all different types of practices, all in one. It was crazy really. You don’t know what chance you stood for this job, but one can pray.
You heard the elevator ding and it brought you out of your thoughts, stepping outside into the dark carpeted floor. You made your way down the hallway, up to the office you’d be interviewing in. You knocked at the door, after hearing a welcoming ‘come in’ you stepped inside.
What you didn’t know, is that while you were inside of that interview room, all hell was going to break loose.
And it all was going to start by one word from the handsome man you’d met in the lobby.
“Ready.” Soap mumbles into the tiny microphone on him. He watches you as you make your way into the elevator, biting his lip at the way you looked in your black dress. “She’s headed up now, give it 5 and it’s a go.” Soap says as he presses the button for the next elevator. The very moment that door was closed behind your form, they were springing into action. Laswell had written these plans perfectly for them. Showed them exactly where the problem was, and how to take care of it.
They picked the lock to the room they needed to be on, moving quietly, drawing as little attention to themselves as possible. Once the room was open, they were shocked as they took it all in. Thousands of gallons of liquid all filled one room. Large vats, syringes, spray bottles, everything. They split into pairs, Ghost and Soap started destroying the liquid, contaminating parts, breaking open the large vats. Gaz and Captain Price moved to destroy any paperwork they could find, removing the ability to ever create this again. By the time they were finished, they were rushing out. Moving quickly to the elevator. The four men piled in, and as Soap pressed the lobby button, you stepped inside. “Oh.. sorry. I can catch the next one.” You smile, going to step out, but Gaz reaches out to take your hand. “Nonsense, there’s enough for us all.” He smiles. Anything to look natural.
They watched the floors tick by.
15…
14…
13…
12…
11…
10…
9…
Just as you’re about to reach the eight floor, a loud alarm began going off and you looked around in a panic. “Shit.” Captain Price mumbles. A red light started flashing in the elevator and the floor feels like it slips out from under your feet as the elevator plummets a few more floors. A scream leaves your lips and Soap reaches out to you, holding you close to him. When the elevator hangs up, you all freeze, looking around. “Everyone okay?”
You nod your head. Worried. You hear creaking, bracing yourselves for another plummet. You clutch onto Soap as the elevator collapses once more, a few more floors dinging passed. You have your eyes clenched tight. “Fuck- fucking hell. We’re about to be in the parking garage.” Gaz breathes. “We’ve got to make it fall again.” He breathes. The five of you work to make it fall again, jumping at the same time, but it’s stuck. You can’t even pry the doors open. “Fuck..”
“Let’s just press the emergency button.” You shrug.
“No!” They all yell in unison, Soap grasping your hand.
“What? Why?”
They all sigh.
You’re close enough to the parking garage that you hear all kinds of cars speeding off. Most likely the team that created this mess, ditching it.
“What the hell is going on?” You ask. They all exchange glances with each other before Captain Price sighs. He reaches his hand out to you, “I’m Captain John Price. This is my task force. We’re here on a mission.” He sighs. “Task force? A mission? What is even here that would have to be.. what?” You ask. “We’ve been tracking this for a few years now.” He digs a piece of paper out of his pocket. It’s got information on the mysterious pink liquid. Along with a photo of it. “We tracked it back to a lab in Japan that were experimenting on people, the death toll was up to a few hundred before we caught sight of them. We busted up their operation but one of them got away, and for a while now they’ve been hiding here, under the false impression that they’re here to help people.” You look confused. “Sex drug?”
“This is a chemically modified sex drug. That’s what they administer here. It helps, of course. It aids in pregnancy, helps with sex drive. But… when taken without any stimulation. The patient dies. The death toll from this building alone is in the hundreds already,” he explains. Your lips are parted, you’re shocked. “So.. what did you guys do?” You ask. Captain Price smiles. “We destroyed whatever of the drug they had left, and destroyed all of the paperwork.” You nod your head. You thought that these people were helping. You thought that they were just miracle workers. But they were evil.
“Damn. I really wish you would’ve told me that before I went in there and rocked that stupid interview.” You roll your eyes.
Something dripping onto Ghosts shoulder has you all stopping to look at him. He looks up, seeing that there is something pooling up above him. “What is that?” There’s a small crack.
Just as quickly as it drips onto Ghost, it absorbs into his skin. “What the hell?” He asks. “Isn’t this the elevator closest to the lab?” You ask. “Where.. we broke open all of those fucking vats of the drug.” Gaz laughs. “Fuck.” He groans. “We have to get the fuck out of here.” You mumble. You turn to try to pry open the door again. Gasping when something spills down your back. You spin around, seeing that the drug has started spilling through any cracks. All over everyone in the elevator. It absorbs just as soon as it touches you, but it’s cold at first. It makes you feel fuzzy. Sending chills up your spine. “It’s so cold.” You breathe. The group is going quiet as you stand there, arms wrapped around yourself. Ghost is the first to hide his growing erection with his hands.
You’ve got a black dress on, your hair loose and falling around your shoulders, skin exposed.
You take in a deep breath, feeling wetness pool between your legs. “Let’s try jumping again.” Gaz nods. Everyone agrees. “On the count of three.” He nods.
When he reaches three, each one of you jump. But the Elevator doesn’t even creak. It’s stuck.
Soap moves forward, sliding passed Gaz and Captain Price as he looks at you. He steps closer to you, making you back up into the metal wall behind you. “Soap? What are you doing?” Gaz asks. “Johnny?” Ghost asks. He leans down into you, making you breathe out, he inhales the scent of you, head low. His lips are only a few centimeters from your neck and you’re nervous as he pins you up to the wall. “We don’t have to die.” He sighs. “We’ve got this pretty thing right here.” He smiles. You look up at him. Eyes burning into him. “Isn’t that right darling?” He breathes. Running his hand up your bare thigh. He sends chills up your spine, a gasp leaving your lips as he moves it higher. “It’s the drug talking. We have to keep trying.” Gaz grits his teeth.
You take in a deep breath. “No..” you mumble. Peeking at Gaz. “He’s right.” You breathe, feeling Soap’s fingertips against your panties. “As long as I’m here you’re all safe.” You sigh, pushing your hips into Soap’s hand. “What, you think you’ll be able to handle all four of us?” He snorts. You look at him, glancing up to where there were more droplets of the drug pooling at the top. You reach your hand up, running your fingertip over it. It drips into your hand and down your arm before absorbing into your skin. “Mhm..” you breathe.
The seconds tick by. The more time that passes the less logical they’re all thinking. And before you know it, they’re pouncing on you like a pack of wild wolves.
Gaz is sucking at one side of your neck, Soap is on the other. Kissing and sucking at your skin. You can feel hands all over you, and you can barely keep it together. You feel amazing.
You can feel fingertips dancing at your opening. “What do I call you?” You breath, looking around at each of them.
“Kyle.” Gaz pants.
“Johnny.” Soap hikes your leg up onto his hip.
“Simon.” Ghost breathes, tugging his mask off and tucking it into his pocket.
“John.” Captain Price nods.
You take in a deep breath, nodding your head. You look up at the ceiling as you’re being devoured. Their lips are on you, leaving traces that burn. John moves himself between Kyle and Johnny, dropping to his knees and pushing your dress up over your hips. He kisses your clit through your panties and you glance down, moaning at the sight of him. You snake a hand between you and Kyle, grasping a handful of Johns hair, whining as you feel his wet tongue against you through your panties. He tugs your panties down your plushy thighs, admiring how soft you feel. Once he has them off, shoved into his pocket for another day, his lips are on your clit. Lapping up the expanse of sensitive flesh, a gasp leaving your lips and you moan out, Johnny moving to kiss you to keep you quiet, not that it mattered.
He just wants to feel your lips on his.
Kyle pumps his cock lazily as he works at your neck. He’s leaving as many marks as he possibly can. Sucking and biting. Simon watches intensely. Fighting the urge to touch himself as he admires the view.
“Cmon, get on the ground darling.” John mumbles, pulling away from you. They pull you down until you’re laying on your back, and that’s when they surround you.
John is between your legs. Simon and Gaz are to your right and left, and Johnny is looking down at you from right directly above you. “Let’s see what this pretty mouth can do hm?” He breathes, leaning down. He bumps his nose over yours kissing your lips again. “Such a pretty fucking thing, I knew I wanted to fuck you in the waiting room but didn’t think it’d actually happen.” He chuckles. He exposes his cock to you, and you glance at Simon and Kyle, reaching your hands out to them. Simon has to undo his belt, Kyle is already completely exposed, desperate to be touched by you. John pushes your legs up and you take a second to glance at him, biting your lip. Your body is hot, it feels like at any moment you’re going to burst into flames. You’ve never been so turned on in your life. He rubs his bare cock over the folds of your pussy, your whines egg him on. Johnny chuckles at your desperation, Simon and Kyle tap your hips to get your dress completely off. Exposing you to them entirely.
“Look at that..” Johnny chuckles, eyeing his Captain as he teases your pussy. He’s rubbing his cock back and fourth over your clit. “How bad do you want it?”
“So bad…” you mewl. “Please, please fuck me.” You pant. John smirks, pushing the tip of his cock into you, watching it disappear inside of you, a gasp leaving your lips. You’ve got Simon and Kyle in both of your hands, pumping their lengths quickly. John fucks into you, hard and fast. He needs the release. You look up at Johnny, he’s pumping his cock, smirking down at you. “You ready for me?” He smiles. “Yes.” You whine. He moves closer, the tip of his cock brushes against your lips. The tip is blushing red and leaking precum. You look up at him one last time before tilting your head back and taking him into your mouth.
He sighs at the feeling of your lips on him, not being able to help himself as he rocks his hips into you. He gives you a couple minutes to adjust, letting you breathe. “Hold your breath. M’gonna fuck your throat.”
You do as he says, taking in a big breath of air, he pushes his cock down into you, watching your throat bulge out at the size of him. He grasps handfuls of your hair, fucking your throat hard and fast. He growls when you clutch onto him. You need to breathe. He stops for a second, sliding himself completely out of your mouth as you gasp for air. “Just about made me cum from that little bit. Fucking good girl.” He breathes. “M’gonna cum down this pretty throat, can you take it?” He smirks. You nod your head. “Good, hold your breath again.”
You brace yourself again, opening your mouth to take him down, sucking down a harsh breath, feeling him tug your hair and hold you down to fuck your throat. Your throat is getting sore but you want him to cum.
“Fuck- fuck.” He breathes. “Just.. just a second more. Yes.. oh fuck yes!” He gasps, hips stuttering as he cums deep down your throat, feeling you swallow around him. He growls at the feeling, letting his head fall back. He slides out of your mouth with a gasp, hearing you suck in harsh breath, coughing slightly. Maybe he was a little too rough. “Fucking hell.. your throat is magical.” He mumbles. A little embarrassed by how fast he’s just cum. He moves back, avoiding the cracks that the invasive drug seeps through. Sitting toward the corner where the door is. He takes a deep breath, letting his head fall back against the metal wall. His skin is hot, on fire. He needs to calm down. His eyes stay glued to you. To where you’re being used.
Your eyes are full of tears as you raise yourself up for a second, seeing John thrusting into your pussy. You swallow hard, eyes rolling back at his brutal pace. Your eyes are heavy and watery, throat raw from Johnny’s brutal pace. “Fuck-“ John groans. “M’gonna cum already.” He gasps. Sliding out of you and covering your stomach in his cum. Hearing you gasp at the sudden emptiness he’s left behind. He takes a second, panting hard. Before standing up to adjust his pants. Groaning at the sensitivity he feels when he tucks himself back into his cargo pants.
Ghost is quick to take his place, moving himself between your legs.
He scoots closer, grasping your thighs and lifting you up. Hearing you gasp as he slides into you. He stands up onto his feet, backing up into the elevator wall. “You think you can take two of us?” He smiles. You look behind you, seeing Kyle pumping his cock. You nod your head. “Yes.” You breathe. “Good girl.” He breathes. You turn back to him, looking him in the eyes, squirming against him. You’re desperate to cum, feeling so full but receiving no friction from his thick cock that sits deep inside of you. You feel Kyle’s hands on your ass, spitting on his fingertips to prep you for him. Using his fingers to stretch open your holes.
You gasp slightly, burying your head into the crook of Simon’s neck, feeling him tighten his grip around your waist. Kyle lines himself up with you, pressing his tip against your ass, sinking into you slowly. Simon feels you tense up, keeping a tight grip on you for comfort. “Halfway there.” Kyle breathes. “Just a little more.”
“S’alright. Doing so good.” Simon mumbles, lifting you off of him and letting you sink back down onto his cock, hearing a gasp leave your lips. “So fucking tight-“ Kyle gasps. His voice is desperate. Kyle grasps the underside of your thighs, helping hold you steady as they both start slow, rocking their hips into you, a cry leaving your lips. “Oh my god-“ you whine. “It’s so much.” You clench your eyes closed. “Is it too much? Do you want us to stop?” Kyle asks. You shake your head. “No- I want to cum.” You breathe. Hearing them both chuckle at your response.
They start to speed up their pace, thrusting into you. Keeping up a rhythm. Filling you up at once, leaving you empty. You’ve got a death grip on Simon, crying into his shoulder as they use you. Filling you up so perfectly. Simon hits that perfect spot and you pull away from him, eyes widening. “What?” He asks quietly.
He hits it again and tears start to spill from your eyes. “So good, whatever you keep touching feels so good” you sob. Hearing him chuckle. He moves you up on him slightly, getting the perfect angle to thrust up into your spongy spot, feeling your thighs shake as you cry out. You won’t last long like this.
But neither will they.
Your whole body shivers at their assault on you, the buzzing you feel in your head, it’s overwhelming.
The thought of being used by four men you barely know is breathtaking, so foreign to you.
Your eyes roll back, squirming. “I- I’m gonna-“ you can’t even finish your sentence as you soak Simon completely, body jerking hard as you reach your orgasm, the both of them working into you still, hearing you cry because of the overstimulation. “Just a little more..” Kyle gasps.
You reach behind yourself, entwining your fingers with his as they sit on your thigh. Holding onto him tightly as he works his hips into yours. “I’m gonna cum- ah!” He cries out, hips stuttering as he slides out of you. Hissing as he cums. “F-fuck. Holy shit.” He breathes. He backs away from you, just as Simon braces himself to fuck you hard. “Almost there. Got me so close sweetheart.” He breathes. You raise yourself up on him, kissing him. You can feel his black face paint smearing slightly on your nose and cheeks, but cease to care as he pounds himself up into you. Crying into your mouth when he reaches his high. Forgetting entirely to pull out of you. Filling you to the hilt with his potent cum. Your eyes are wide when you pull away from him. You keep quiet, hissing slightly when he sets you down, knees buckling under you. You catch yourself, sitting on the ground of the elevator. You’re breathing hard, eyes are on you.
“Here.” Soap passes you an undershirt that he’d had on. “Thank you.” You blush hard. Cleaning yourself up.
“Got to Laswell. She’s sending out reinforcements. Don’t know how long it’ll be.” John sighs.
Ghost gasps, feeling something cold run down his neck, looking up. More of the drug.
He sighs.
“That’s fine. Looks like we’re not done just yet.” He laughs.
#call of duty mw2#soap mw2#cod mw2#ghost mw2#captain john price#price mw2#alejandro mw2#captain price#johnny soap mactavish#mw2 smut#soap mactavish#soap cod#john soap mactavish#soap#ghost cod#simon ghost riley#captain johnathan price#john price x reader#john price#gaz smut#kyle gaz garrick#gaz x reader#gaz mw2#gaz cod
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Do you have any tips for writing Obi Wan or any meta in mind with his characterizarion?
hmmm sure why not! i'll give a few tips on how i'd write obi-wan. mind you this is how i interpret the character, so ymmv.
i truly do not like it when fics have obi-wan voluntarily leaving the order. like it's so out-of-character for me in my head that the premise of the story + the writing would have to work triple-time to get me to stick around. now if he's been removed from it by an EXTERNAL SOURCE (not the order. i cannot stress this enough: the jedi kicking obi-wan out is so jarring to me i'll leave the fic in an instant) or somehow unable to return to the order for whatever reason, all is well.
not a prodigy, but a genius. obi-wan is an incredibly intelligent person with an absolutely staggering knowledge base in a wide variety of topics, but all that knowledge was earned through blood, sweat, tears, and time. he sat down with his game face on and put in the work. that's also why he makes an excellent teacher: he knows what most students will struggle with because he struggled too, and knows through experience how best to overcome them. i headcanon that it contributes to why he's such a good negotiator: he's really good at stripping down information to the essentials and communicating that information effectively and efficiently to others because of his intense study habits.
humble, but not ignorant of his skills. it's pretty impossible to fully divorce yourself from pride in your achievements, and i don't think it's healthy to not feel any pride at all, so i think obi-wan has a very clear understanding of his skillset and how best to use it. i don't think he'd be ignorant of how good he is at something, especially since the direct consequence of his aptitude led him to being a member of the jedi council. pretty hard to be blind to your strengths when you're being asked for your input on topics that directly draw from that knowledge.
averse to healthcare. listen i enjoy obi-wan whump just as much as the next obi-wan stan (the desire to put him in the cosmic salad spinner comes with the territory, i fear) but as a character who grew up in an environment that deeply cares for the well-being of all, and knowing that you cannot help others unless you yourself first have the ability to do so, i can't really see him ignoring injuries outside of combat scenarios. like on the battlefield he's got more pressing concerns than a pesky little shrapnel wound or five, but once the battle's over?? he might not be first in line to the medics but i can't see him avoiding them entirely. an army without a general is working at a sharp disadvantage and i don't think he'd risk his men by neglecting his physical health in that manner. note that i said 'physical'. make of that what you will :)
duty. obi-wan is the definition of a paladin. he takes an oath and by the force he's going to keep it. train the boy? absolutely, qui-gon. whether or not anakin chooses to respect that training is another matter, but he did definitively get knighted! refuse to kill anakin? listen he's handed vader his own ass to him twice post order 66 and each time he did it he did it nonlethally. that takes skill. that takes dedication. exile yourself to tatooine for 19 years and then decide fuck it, we ball, and die after Once Again Deciding Not To Kill Anakin Skywalker? step aside casper, there's a new friendly ghost in town. every time obi-wan commits to something the man COMMITS. you GOTTA respect that grind.
flirty but in the sense that he's going to match the energy someone brings to the table. like he's a negotiator. he knows how to read people and figure out the Vibes. if he thinks the other person will be 1) 100% receptive and 2) will respond with a delightful wit, why the hell not? obi-wan's highest stat is charisma and he's got expertise in persuasion. whether they're allies or not does not factor into this equation. he can have a little flirtation with morally dubious and potentially hostile characters. as a treat.
this has nothing to do with his character but i firmly believe that he and quinlan vos had at LEAST a fling when they were padawans. there is zero evidence to back this up aside from a few comics where they were being goofy teenagers together but i stand by this. it is an unshakeable aspect of obi-wan to me that has only gotten worse with the kenobi show.
no matter what, no matter how terrible or devastating or downright apocalyptic it gets, obi-wan kenobi will never fall to the dark side. never. it won't be easy, but that is a line he has never, and will never cross. i will not hear any "obi-wan touched the dark side during the theed generator fight" slander. if that was true tell me why the force theme was playing during his moment of triumph!!! Would John Williams Lie To Us Like That?? to our face?????
anyways i could go on forever about obi-wan because he is My Ultimate Blorbo but this post is getting super long so i'll leave it there. hope this helped even a little or at the very least was entertaining for you to read <3
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My eyes only | Arthur Morgan / Reader
Word count : 500+ (just a little guy)
Summary : Arthur thinks you look like a work of art
Warnings/tags : Fluff, allusions to smut, nakedness, Arthur being in love, set in Shady Bell.
“You look like one of them paintings.” Arthur said lying next to you. Supporting himself on his arm as he sat up, his blanket hanging low on his hips. The sight offers you the slightest peek at the low v of his pelvis. His arm unconsciously flexed, the muscles of his bicep pulled tight.
“What do you mean?” You chuckled, rolling over to face him. Heat poured off your skin, your hair sticking to the back of your neck as you come down from your high. The only thing covering your nakedness was a flimsy sheet, pulled lazily over your body by Arthur.
“You know, those portraits.” He said, a wicked grin on his face, “The ones that French feller made in Saint Denis.”
“Arthur!” You laughed, hitting him on the chest, a satisfying slap echoing through the room.
“What?” He laughed, deep and heartily. His shoulder shook as he grinned.
“You’re awful.” You said, shaking your head, trying to hide your smile.
“You’re laughin’.”
“Am not!” You chuckled looking up at the rotted ceiling. He rolled over, wrapping his hand around your bare waist. Digging his fingers into the soft skin of your side, you squirmed laughing under him. “Stop! Stop!” You cried, your cheeks hurting from how hard you were smiling. The setting sun peeking through the window, illuminating Arthur’s backside like a halo. Although he was anything but an angel at the moment. “I’m gonna pee!” You laughed, your hands planted on his chest as you tried to shove the ox of a man off of you.
“Alright, alright.” He relented, collapsing on top of you. You let out a loud ‘omph’ as he pushed all the air out of your lungs. You rolled your eyes, your fingers drawing mindless patterns along his freckled back.
He picked up his head, smirking up at you. “I’m serious, ya know?” He said softly, his finger trailing down your cheek. The hands of a killer, hands that have beaten and broken the strongest of men. Now lay featherlight touches along your face. “You’re beautiful.” He said, a soft blush covering his cheeks, the scars on his nose and chin a stark white against his skin.
If anyone looked like a work of art it would be Arthur. His body seemed to be carved out of marble, strong and hard. His muscles rippled under his flesh. And those eyes, bright blue pools you often found yourself drowning in.
“I think I should be saying that to you.” You whisper, smiling up at him. He shakes his head, a grin pulling at his lips.
“Nah, ain’t much to look at here ‘cept for you.” He mumbled, laying a kiss on your shoulder. You’d have to disagree, but your words die on your tongue as his lips lay a trail over your collarbone and up your neck.
“Maybe I should ask Mr. Châtenay to paint my likeness, hm?” You tease. His hand, no longer laying dormant next to your body, squeezes your hip.
“Not a chance in hell darlin’.” He said grinning wickedly at you. His other hand that had been moving along your cheek gripped the back of your neck. “You’re for my eyes only.”
#Arthur Morgan#arthur morgan x reader#rdr2#red dead redemption 2#red dead redemption#rdr#fluff#hihomeghere#drabble#john Marston#dutch van der linde#hosea matthews
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ೃ⁀➷ i hope nobody catch us, but i kinda hope they catch us.
- ,, neteyam x fem reader
- ,, you and neteyam get caught making out?
- ,, warnings - SUGGESTIVE! adults watch out this is a teenager ur reading abt. minors be careful yo, making out, neteyam is like deadass whipped for u.., can u guys tell i love when character is whiny and so inlove atp??
-‘๑’- les - childish gambino
Your friendship with Neteyam is not exactly.. per say, a friendship. Its what you would technically call it, since you both gave it no other said title. But we all know you guys aren’t just friends, lo’ak knows, kiri knows, spider knows, jake and neytiri know, hell, even tuk knows. Everyone acts oblivious as it is.
There are times where you wonder what your relationship really is, anything but “just friends” comes to mind, some specific memories take you back and give you scary realizations.
For instance, that one time when the whole crew was hanging out together in the forest, our designated hangout spot, you showed up a little after everyone else because you had errands to run, and Neteyam had saved a spot just for you.
“hey guys”
“y/nnnnnnnn” tuk smiles at you and runs towards you with her arms outstretched, signifying her desire to be picked up and spun by you, you do just that and laugh with her. “What’s little girl doing here with the big kids” you question teasingly, knowing Tuk dislikes being called a little girl.
“y/n, finally bro , i almost thought you ditched us” lo’ak says dramatically and spider and kiri laugh, you walk to the group with Tuk in your arms as you slap the back of lo’ak’s head, Tuk jumping out of your arms to go lay in Kiri’s lap.
You look at neteyam, he hasn’t taken his eyes off you since the moment you came into their vision, he’s leaning against a tree, sitting with his legs spread quite a bit, manspreading was a trait neteyam got from his father, and it was so hot.
He pats the space between his legs, and you happily oblige. “hi” you whisper when you look up at neteyam, his chin resting on your head, his arms encircling your figure, thumb rubbing sweet circles on your thigh. “hi sweetheart” he flashes you his infamous smile.
Or that one time when you went hunting for rabbits with him in the forest, you just couldn’t set your aim right, it was getting so frustrating you almost cried. But hey, you have neteyam with you, don’t worry!
He helps you fix your posture, his chest pressing up against your back, he’s so close you can feel his breath on your cheek, his deep voice rumbling in your ear that tells you to focus makes you do quite the opposite. How could you possibly focus when he’s this close to you? Your insides are exploding with butterflies, your lower belly warm and your lip almost draws blood from how hard you’ve bitten it.
Somehow you end up hitting a rabbit with your arrow without even realizing and only realize the situation when you hear neteyam’s laugh and him congratulating you. “you got it y/n!!” (mf that was all you)
This man really has no idea of the effects he has on you does he?
You don’t have to think hard of moments like these with neteyam, they rush through your mind like a film reel. Countless.
No one really thought much of it when they saw you and neteyam having moments like these. No one questioned when he called you sweetheart, or his love, or beautiful, or some sort of nickname on a daily basis, not even you. All waiting for that one particular moment where you both realize its love and make it official.
Which seems so likely to happen today, the tension is thick through the roof with everything that just happened.
You’re patching him up because of course he just got into a fight with some dingus because lo’ak can’t handle a fight alone for shit.
“y/n, gentle please” neteyam lets out a low hiss as you dab a piece of cloth on the cut that bleeds on his jaw.
You’re angry with him, he knows that. And god, he’s angry with himself too, but what’s he gonna do if his baby won’t talk to him?
He doesn’t know what to say, anything to ease the tension, so he decides to go with
“are you upset?” he looks at you with soft eyes
you move his face around to find any other cuts to deal with, his chin between your fingers “so upset, you don’t even know” you hold back a grin at his quiet voice.
“im sorry y/n, lo’ak would get his ass handed to him if i wasn’t there” he sounds so desperate, which he is, for you.
your heart swells, you wanna play.
you put on an act and look away from him, huffing in faux anger.
“y/n please” he whispers, looking at you with pure distress in his eyes, you think you can even see tears. He’s so hard to resist right now, how is he not catching onto your game?? Or maybe he is playing along?
You decide you’re done. With two things.
Torturing him, and torturing yourself.
You stroke the apple of his cheek with your thumb, swiping at the tear that dare fall from his eye “take it easy neteyam” he nods eagerly, he’ll listen to you until he dies.
You sigh, and clean up the cloth and medicine and get ready to leave, standing up but neteyam grabs your wrist and pulls you down, onto his lap, his arms circling your waist as he holds you close to him.
His forehead rests on your collarbone and you stroke his hair.
“okay, nete look at me..” he obeys.
you cup his face in your soft hands, he nuzzles against them and you lean forward, you look at his eyes and he’s already closed them. God!!! He’s so cute you could squeal!!!
You smash your lips against his and his hands automatically bring you closer, your legs straddling his lap as you run your hands through his hair, grazing at his nape.
Neteyam pulls away to look at you for a split second, and you look so so pretty he just can’t hold his tongue, “i love you” he whispers against your lips, three words meant for you and you only. He goes back to kiss you before you could reply, he gives you a few open-mouthed kisses before you mewl into his mouth and he crumbles.
Neteyam groans and he attaches his lips to your jaw, giving you gentle kisses that trail down to your neck, “i love you so much y/n” you wonder where he learnt this from.
“i love you neteyam” you whisper as you feel yourself grow more impatient as time goes.
he kisses you again and you feel him smile into the kiss, your chest is warm, neteyam intertwines his hand with yours and it becomes sloppy quiet fast.
you’re both a mess, whining into each others mouths , you’re so deep into it you don’t even realize footsteps getting louder and louder, eventually you are pulled out of your fantasies when you hear neytiri address her son right before she catches sight of you both in this sinful activity, you pull apart suddenly and scramble to get off his lap, failing miserably as neteyam seems opposed to the idea of letting go of you.
“neteyam! fuck!” you whisper-yell and shove your face into his shoulder, his hands still on your hips as he sputters to explain to his mother what she just witnessed
Neytiri coughs.
“mother i was just- we were- “
“making out?” Neytiri chuckles and shakes her head, making her way out after grabbing the plate you used to fix neteyam’s wounds.
“neteyammmmmm i can’t do this right noww” you cry embarrassed into his shoulder and he shudders at the thought of his mom knowing what you guys were doing. He laughs soon after, snaking his hands around your waist as he holds you in his lap
“i don’t know this isn’t all that funny nete” you grumble and shake your head, “poor neytiri”
“no.. poor neteyam, i didn’t get to finish “making out” with you” he says, putting up fingers meant to imitate quotation marks to mock his moms words.
you slap his arm gently “as much as i was enjoying, i don’t wanna risk getting caught again.. ewya forbids its tuk next time.. i would never even kiss you again”
he gasps, putting a hand over his chest to fake his hurt and you giggle at his expression
he kisses you again, and again, and again until you have to put your hand over his lips and tell him to stop in between a fit of giggles, he laughs with you “just kissing you enough so i don’t die when you refuse me later” you grin so hard your cheeks hurt, but its so worth it.
You hear lo’ak , spider , kiri, jake , and tuk cheering from outside, “GO BIG BRO” “is y/n my actual sister now?” “ugh finally they stopped beating around the bush” “thats my son, on his lap?? thats literally us neytiri!”
Oh.. Neytiri told them. Great!
#neteyam x omaticaya!reader#neyetam#neteyam#neteyam x you#neteyam sully#neteyam x reader#avatar neteyam#avatar fandom#avater the way of water#avatar headcanons#avatar fanfiction#avatar x reader#avatar x you#avatar 2#avatar the way of water
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➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏
✧.* CHAPTER 10 || The Hallway Incident
[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?
[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language & fluff.
[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 3.2k
[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.
[ [ chapters mlist } ]
——THE GENTLE SOUND OF YOUR heel tapping against the ground due to the constant bobbing of your leg as your anxiety builds up inside can be heard beneath the sounds of Nanami and Toji engaging in conversation.
You've been waiting for about six minutes now, having watched every second of the nearby clock tick, and your nerves are all bundled up. In the time that they've been talking, you've mentally rehearsed a plan for yourself.
You're going to ask Toji for private lessons.
And no, not in a naughty kind of way. At least, not yet. But for the purpose of one, having an excuse to attend class with Gojo every Monday to really dedicate yourself to the lie you've given and two, to have one-on-one moments with Toji.
Is any of this going to work? Probably not.
The worst case scenario is that this all goes to shit and Toji rejects any advance you make at him, resulting in Gojo posting those videos of you. Great.
You draw your hand up to your face and begin to chew on your thumbnail as you wait, simply watching the two talk for a few more minutes until Nanami finally leaves.
When he does, you watch him walk away almost in a trance. He's got one hell of a back profile. Similar to Toji, the dress shirt that Nanami had did little to nothing to conceal the toned body that lay underneath.
You never used to undress people with your eyes like this before but then again, you never used to see this many attractive people at once.
The little trance you were in is broken when Toji suddenly snaps his fingers in front of your face, causing you to jump and turn your head to him. You hadn't even realized that he sat back down at his desk.
"S-Sorry Mr. Fushiguro." You apologize as you make eye contact with the man.
"You're fine," He says, his expression void of any real reaction to the way he saw you gawking at his student. "Now," Toji leans back in his chair, a slight creak heard as he does so, "Where were we?"
"Uhh..." You awkwardly straighten up in your seat, "I was telling you about the project I had for my sociology class."
"Right." He nods, "Well, I don't mind you coming to my class for a few weeks for this project of yours, just don't be a disruption."
"I won't sir." You hum.
The gentleness in your tone makes the older man shift in his seat a little. "Good. Anything else?" Toji questions, tipping his head to the side.
"W-Well, I was wondering if I could stay after the lecture as well."
"For?"
"Y'know, like, a more..." You look down at your lap. The eye contact was growing overwhelming. "In-depth lesson?"
The older man falls quiet for a second. Then, startling you, he chuckles at how fidgety and nervous you seem to be about your request. "You're not in any of my classes and yet you want a lesson from me? A private one at that?" He emphasizes.
You swallow hard and look back up at him, "Yes sir."
Toji folds his arms, the large muscles in his arms unintentionally bulging against the fabric of his shirt. "What is there for me to teach ya' privately that you wouldn't learn during the lectures?" He asks.
"Well..." Think, think, think, think, think.... "Students aren't the only people I have to study for this project. As a professor, you'd be a great example to use for how topics, such as economics, affect people in education." You manage.
He scoffs lightly, "So, basically, you want to study me after class?"
You wince a little at his words, "Study isn't really the word I'd use for it. Think of it more like an interview."
"An interview?"
You cross one of your legs over the other, "Yes sir."
He takes a long pause, simply staring at you in thought. Once he comes to a decision, Toji agrees with a nod and a shrug of his broad shoulders. "Alright. Every Monday then, I'll expect to see you during and after class. When's this little project of yours due?"
"Six weeks from now." That should be enough time for you to... seduce him, right?
Toji's eyebrows raise slightly, "Six weeks? Damn, must be some project."
"It's my final project, sir." You clarify.
He clicks his tongue and you watch the corner of his lips raise into a little smirk, "So your final grade will be riding on me then?"
Well technically you riding on him is more of the goal here but, there's no need for you to say that aloud.
You smile, "Yup."
"M'kay, cya next week then," Toji says dismissively. You give him a nod and both of you stand at the same time. He walks you over to his door and adds a simple, "I look forward to workin' with ya', kid."
His last word makes you halt. Slowly, you turn only your head back to him with a graceful smile on your face, "With all due respect, sir, I'm a grown woman. Please don't call me kid." You request.
With your head angled back to him, you notice that he's rather close to you. One of his hands was placed on his classroom door and the other was tucked into the pocket of his pants. His closeness causes whatever, obviously cheap, but rather pleasant-smelling cologne to run through your nose.
Toji tilts his head as he looks down at you, "Yes ma'am. My bad, it's a bit of a habit of mine."
The change in the way he addressed you has your heart feeling a little weird. It has to be that deep voice of his, the damn thing is intoxicating.
"You should get rid of it," You blurt out, referring to that habit of his.
An amused smirk spreads across his face. You didn't know it but, he found this one interaction with you slightly attractive. "I'll work on it." Toji hums casually.
You give him an approving nod and then turn away. His eyes follow you as you enter the mildly busy hallway and after you disappear from his sight, he sighs heavily.
You definitely made a decent first impression on him.
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ . . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
As you rush down the hallway, you're lost in your head thinking about how you're going to pull this off for the next few weeks.
Subtly flirting and throwing small hints at him sound like your best options. Being straight up would be dangerous. You'll have to flirt and pretend like you aren't aware you're flirting-- 'innocently' making your way to what lies beneath his clothes.
You hope it works too. And while you're on that thought, you have to ask Gojo how difficult he thinks this will be for you. God, you hate that man. You don't want to talk to him about anything but you're forced to anyway-
You run right into someone in the hallway.
A phone drops and the binders and books you held make contact with the floor. "Shit," You curse, instantly crouching down to pick up the fallen items.
The person you ran into crouches down too, "Sorry," They apologize, even though you both ran into each other.
You go for the phone and motion the device toward the person, raising your head from the fallen items and meeting a new pair of eyes.
Holy fucking shit. It's another one. Another guy from the list.
And this one is... Well, if not for you picking Geto, this guy would've been your next choice.
Deep sangria-colored irises peer into yours, the shade veering more into the brown spectrum, and oddly attractive eyebags circle the male's eyes. There's a dark black tattoo running across the bridge of his nose and his hair is styled up in two messy ponytails.
You think your heart skipped a beat as you made eye contact with him. Hell, maybe it skipped a few beats-- maybe it stopped working for a second.
His face alone was tantalizing. The man was attractive in a way that made you unable to pry your eyes off him.
You think you flinch when he leans closer to you and tilts his head in concern, "You alright?"
Dazed by his caring voice and mesmerizing eyes, you nod your head. "Y-Yeah." You sigh.
You watch as the man looks down at your lips for a second, then right back up to your eyes as if he didn't mean to glance. The two of you grab all of the fallen items and stand up in sync. You extend your hand out, holding his phone and trying to give it back to him.
"Sorry for running into you," He apologizes again while taking his phone from you.
In return, he hands one of the items of yours he picked up back to you. "You're fine, I should've been watching where I was going."
He shrugs it off and his eyes drop down to the floor for a second before he speaks, "Me too. Also, I like your shoes."
You mimic his motion and look down at your feet, almost as if you'd forgotten what you were wearing. "Thank you," You reply as you look back up to the man.
If there's one thing they all have in common aside from being hot, it's the fact that they're all taller than you. It's something you mentally note as this man stands in front of you.
You smile and make a gesture to his face, "Nice tatt." You compliment simply.
His lips curve into a slight smirk, "Thanks, I did it myself."
"Really?" Your brows raise in surprise.
"Yup."
"Fuck, that's cool. Did it hurt?" You ask curiously, unintentionally leaning forward a little to get a closer look.
He shrugs, "Nah, not really."
You examine it for a second, only growing more and more impressed. "It's like, a perfectly straight line. Are you an art major by any chance?"
"Graphic design." He clarifies, "What about you?"
You shrug casually, "Psycology."
The male's head tilts to the side as he peers down at you, you can tell he's impressed. "Shit, psycology?" His head cocks back a little and he smirks, "That's hot."
"Hot?" You blindly repeat, chuckling at him. "It's just the study of behavior and mind, nothing special honestly."
He scoffs, "I'm pretty sure it's much deeper than that."
"It is but, it's more confusing than hot." You argue.
Your conversation with him is oddly seamless. He's now grinning at you, "The fact that it's confusing and you're still choosing to study it makes it hot."
"So, are you calling me or the major itself hot?" You ask teasingly.
He shamelessly looks you up and down and licks his lips before saying, "Both." He hums.
Your face grows a little warm. "Thanks, you too."
"You think I'm hot?"
"No, I think your major's hot." You utter sarcastically.
He laughs, "Yeah? You think graphic design is hot?"
"Mhm." You hum, "I mean, yeah, you're attractive but when you add on the fact that you're an artist? That multiplies it."
"Really?"
"Yup."
"On that note, you wanna see some of my work?" The man offers surprisingly.
"Yes please." You say with excitement in your voice.
Talking with this man in the middle of the hallway was by far the most refreshing thing you'd experienced within the last six days.
He chuckles and his thumb swipes through his phone for a second. When he finds whatever it is he wants to show you, he motions for you to come closer to him and you do.
Standing by his side and leaning over toward his phone, you see beautiful images of dark-colored designs that are nearly impossible to put into one word.
His art looks like... himself? It's almost as though he put his whole aesthetic onto a piece of paper. You catch shades of black, purple, and red ink swirled together in multiple different designs.
"Holy shit," You breathe out.
He chuckles at your reaction, "I've had a bit of art block recently but uh..."
As he trails off, you turn your head to look at him and notice that your faces are closer than you expected. Neither of you move but the eye contact held is almost intimate.
His voice drops lower and his gaze is unwavering, "I think I just found my new muse."
Heat rushes to your face as you grow flustered. By no means was he referring to you, right?
"R-Really?" You stammer.
His gaze dips lower, focusing on the curve of your lips, "Yeah," He hums.
The two of you lose yourselves in each other's presence for a moment. You nearly forgot about... well, everything for a second.
The male was enamored by you. You were just some random girl he ran into and yet he couldn't take his eyes off you. As for you, well, it's simple to say that you were just as infatuated. His face was so close, so flawless, and yet so mysterious.
You clear your throat and both of you snap out of the little trance you'd been in. Then, the two of you turn away from each other, clearly equally flustered by the closeness and lack of words.
"U-Uhm, your art is b-beautiful by the way." You stutter, physically cringing at the way you're tripping over your words.
You haven't been this nervous in a long time. This is worse than Toji, worse than Geto, and even worse than Gojo. Your heart is a pounding mess and you feel like a high school girl with a crush all over again.
"Th-Thanks," The man beside you chokes out.
A sense of comfort washes over you as you realize you're not the only one whose nerves are bundled up.
He suddenly clears his throat, "Well uh, I should uhm, probably get going."
You turn to look at him, "Right. Sorry for running into you again."
"No, don't apologize. I'm actually glad you did." He says, avoiding looking you in the eyes but smiling a little bit.
"Think I can get your name before you go?" You question shyly.
His gaze meets your face, still looking everywhere except for your eyes. "Choso. Kamo Choso, but you can just call me Choso." He tells you.
You stick a hand out for him to shake and give him your name in return. As his hand meets yours, you notice the slight claminess of his palms-- he was sweating... how cute.
Again, he clears his throat. "Since we're exchanging names, can I get your number too? I doubt we'll run into each other much since we have two entirely different majors..." Choso requests.
You're quick to nod and it's in a matter of seconds that the two of you exchange contact information with one another.
"It was nice meeting you, Choso." You voice out softly.
He nods his head, "Yeah, it was nice meeting you too."
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ . . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
Alright, so today was an absolute rollercoaster.
From that morning being all lovey-dovey with Gojo, to hating him all over again, to meeting his stupidly sexy professor, to catching a glimpse of the stoic blond, and all the way to having an airy almost whimsical conversation with Choso.
What a day.
Seriously, what a day. Talking to Choso was so different. It didn't feel like you were talking to a target, it didn't feel forced or uncomfortable. Talking to Choso was the most pleasant thing ever.
As you made your way off-campus, your head was in the clouds-- filled with thoughts of the mysteriously artistic man you just had a conversation with. He was different, you could feel it.
You find yourself smiling at the little still moment the two of you had, how innocent it was, and how comfortable you felt. There's a sudden thump in your heart that makes your thoughts freeze.
Shit, the one thing you're not supposed to be doing. The one unspoken rule you'd set for yourself. You're breaking it already. You hardly know the man and you're breaking the single stipulation you'd put on yourself.
No feelings.
It's a simple rule. A needed rule. You can't go around sleeping with different men and fall for one at the same time. That'll never work out.
Imagine the look of disgust on their face when they find out they were just a name you needed to cross off. Hell no, the last thing you want to do is fuck with anyone's heartstrings-- including your own.
But...
Choso was so-
No. Stop it. You think to yourself. You nearly thought the same things about Gojo and look where that got you? In no way can you come out of this situation happy with any of the men involved.
This is just a one-and-done situation. No special cases.
Your goal is to seduce not swoon.
That's all your purpose consists of-- being a little whore for Gojo Satoru. As annoying as it is to come to terms with, that's exactly what your job is here. Fuck people, get paid. Nothing more, and nothing less.
No one becomes the exception. Under no circumstances do you allow anyone to fall for you; nor do you fall for anyone.
The smiles, the laughs, the ticklish feeling you get in your chest-- it all needs to be fake. Those special and cherishable feelings need to forever remain fake.
The second any of those emotions transfer into something real, everything will go to shit.
No relationships.
No feelings.
No romance.
Just sex.
You need to lock those words into your brain for the remainder of this list. Relationships would ruin things, feelings complicate people, romance will never work out, and sex is the only thing you need to focus on achieving.
You're not Gojo so you don't have plans on manipulating people. You simply want to be freed of the grasp he has on you and the only way to do that is by completing this stupid list.
As you made your way home, you thought long and hard about who you would go for first based on the three new people you met.
Toji would be a slow process since you gave yourself six weeks to figure him out. Nanami is a walking question mark since you have literally nothing to go on. And Choso seems all too sweet for you to think about seducing him just yet.
Based on that, you decide that Toji will be your biggest focus for the time being-- unless you spontaneously run into one of the remaining two unidentified people on the list.
With that being the most unlikely thing to happen given how lucky you got today, you end up organizing the list in a journal of yours at home. You'll put them into your own order and check them off as you go.
Yeah, you'll get through this.
...Right?
GOJO SATORU ✔︎
GETO SUGURU ✔︎
TOJI FUSHIGURO ☐
KAMO CHOSO ☐
NANAMI KENTO ☐
mlist || previous chapt || next chpt
#the f*ck list#the fuck list#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#gojo x reader#choso x reader#toji x reader#nanami x reader#sukuna x reader#naoya x reader#geto x reader#gojo satoru x reader#geto suguru x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#sukuna ryomen x reader#nanami kento x reader#choso kamo x reader#kamiverse#kamiversee#smut fic#jjk smut#gojo smut#geto smut#choso smut#toji smut
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cuddles vs kisses - ★｡･:*:･ﾟ
pairing: ot8 x GN!reader
tags: fluff
summary: out of the members which of them prefer cuddles and which prefer kisses from their partner
word count: 1.3K
CHAN - prefers cuddling
chan loves cuddling up with his partner after a long day of working, because it's one of the only things that can relax him, his head in your chest, arms carefully wrapped around each other. he especially loves it if he can feel you lovingly trace shapes into his back, he lets out sighs of contentment and you giggle at his cuteness. sometimes he'll even try to guess what you're drawing, his voice full of sleepiness. he loves breathing in your scent as he's close to you, praying that he never has to let go. your bodies never leave each other, the warmth too addicting to pass up. eventually you fall asleep in this position, your cuddles are his safe place, and you can say the same about his
MINHO - prefers kisses
minho comes home from an intense dance practice, he kicks his shoes off by the door as you're laid on the sofa, snuggled in a blanket, eyes closed, soft snores. he pouts, only you have this effect on him. only you can make him feel this soft. he shakes you gently. he whispers to you softly and you open your eyes, and are met with the most amazing sight in the world. your boyfriend finally home. you sit up and immediately pull him into a soft kiss, and all his worries fade away, very nearly forgetting the ache in his back from the choreo. he doesn't stop kissing you all night, each one filling you both up with endless amounts of adoration for the other
CHANGBIN - prefers cuddling
this man was made to be cuddled. his chest is like a pillow, and you don't need one when you're in bed with him. you're so tired, work at the office has been absolute hell, your boss constantly giving you more paperwork, the mountain growing and growing until you can't see over it anymore. you finally finish it all and make your way back home to a very concerned changbin. not a single word is spoken between either of you as you kick your shoes off, finding yourself in his arms almost straight away, small tears escaping your eyes as he carries both of you upstairs to bed. once you're both in comfier clothes, you're under the covers, your head on his chest as he strokes your hair gently. still, no words are spoken, and you don't need it. you just need to be in changbins arms, and he needs to be in yours
HYUNJIN - prefers kisses
hyunjin is the ultimate romantic. he constantly shows his love to you through kisses, whether that be on your forehead when you're in bed sick and he's taking care of you, on your hand like a prince when you're on a fancy little date he planned out, on your cheek when you're sat beside him, on your back when taking warm baths together, on your nose when you're being so cute he just can't handle it, or on your lips in your most intimate moments, hyunjin wants nothing more than to kiss you all the time. his lips fit perfectly on yours, like they were made for no other. and they weren't. they belong to you only
JISUNG - prefers kisses
you love teasing jisung, feeling a little bit cheeky today more than others. you decided that the next time he pouts at you, you'll dodge his kiss. it upsets him a little at first, and it's not until he sees the glistening of your eyes and your teasing smile that he realises it's not going to be that easy to get a kiss from you today. he chases you around your entire apartment in a silly game of “hide from jisungs kisses”. you finally thought you'd lost him when you feel his arms around your waist as he attacks you with kisses on the back of the neck, and your heart races. he tackles you onto your shared bed, tickling your stomach as he peppers your face with kisses. you're laughing so hard you're not sure you'll make it out alive and he lets go, pouting again. you finally give in and let him kiss you properly this time. your silly little game made you realise how much you missed kissing him properly, you apologise and you vow never to tease him like that again…unless.
FELIX - has no preference
felix absolutely loves any kind of physical touch when it involves his partner. he loves the combination of both kisses and cuddles. you decided on staying in for date night this time, creating a fort with pillows and blankets from all over the house, fairy lights decorating the inside, and grabbing your laptop and snacks for a cute little movie session. it's not long into whichever disney film you both eventually decided when you two can't keep your hands (nor lips) away from each other. his arms are around you and you both keep leaning into to each other to sneak kisses here and there. he just constantly wants to be with you, almost like a little shadow. he never wants to leave you, and he never wants you to forget he's yours and you're his. after a few hours the final film ends and you're snuggled up on his lap, him stroking your hair lightly. he doesn't want to ever leave this moment, and he gives your forehead one last kiss before snuggling into you too
SEUNGMIN - prefers cuddling
seungmin isn't one for public displays of affection, he'll hold your hand here and there, give you affectionate pats every now and again, but this whole front goes out the window when it's just the two of you. he really does turn into a puppy when it's just you two alone, and he never wants to leave your side. he lays down on your lap and just one flash of his puppy-like eyes and you've melted, stroking his hair softly as you watch your kdrama together. then, when it's time for bed, with a few whines, he reluctantly gets up and you go put on your pyjamas, reminding him you can cuddle more in just a few seconds. you both sleepily climb into bed and within seconds he's back, attached at your hip. your fingers are intertwined with his and your snuggled into his chest, and he thanks whatever god there is out there that he gets to share this moment with you, the smell of your freshly washed hair putting him straight to sleep
JEONGIN - has no preference
jeongin is scared of showing you physical affection at first, even the slightest touch of your hands makes the poor boy almost start hyperventilating, he's not the biggest fan, he doesn't even really give his friends hugs. but he decides he wants to get over it, for your sake. you've mentioned that physical touch is one of your love languages, but you were willing to take it slow for him, and that only makes him want to show you it even more, you're too kind to him, and he wants to show you love in return. the prospect of cuddles was less intimidating so he started with that. you were watching something on your television, and he inches closer to you until your head is on his chest and his hands are holding yours. but then came the terrifying thought of kissing you. it took him weeks to work up the courage, and the first time he kisses you properly is on his birthday. you'd taken him out for dinner, and he thanks you with a soft, albeit quick kiss to your lips, which sets both of your cheeks ablaze, and he realises it's not as scary as he thought. after that day he doesn't ever stop, experimenting with the placement each time. and even if each one still gives him the same stupid butterflies, he never wants to stop showing you the love you deserve, in a way that you appreciate like no other
hiii ! i posted this on my ao3 literally months ago but i felt it deserved it's time to shine on here :3 hope you enjoyed reading this!! - reblogs & feedback are appreciated <3
#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#skz fluff#straykids#stray kids x gender neutral reader#bangchan x reader#lee know x reader#changbin x reader#hyunjin x reader#han jisung x reader#felix x reader#seungmin x reader#jeongin x reader#stray kids imagines#stray kids fluff#stray kids fanfic#skz imagines#skz fanfic
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