#the earrings and the pose and thE rings AND HIS HAIR
Text
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
75 notes
·
View notes
Text
i don’t FUCKING THINK you introverted whores will understand what us EXTROVERTED SLUTS GO THROUGH
#tddyhyck brain rot#tddyhyck talks too much#HYUCK LOOKS SO DELISH#hiS hair his mf hair GIVE US FOREHEAD PLS#the crystals in his inner corner i lovE it like makes him sparkle#ANS THE CONTACTS SAUR PRWTTY#HIS NAIL POLISH WITH THE RINGS FINGER ME BITCH PLS#and SUNG#the stars iTs so fucjing pretty#airbrushed him like a goddess#his contacts match his hair 😵💫#and JUN MR RENJUN HWANG RENJUN#he’s so sexy and delectable#the earrings and the pose and thE rings AND HIS HAIR#he’s just a little handsome gentleman who’s also a sexy mf#and jaem#don’t get me started on the denim belt loops at his collar that are perfect for looping a belt through and walking him like a dog#also FOREHEAD TEAMMMM#purple contacts yes god#they all look so fucking fine i can’t handle anything else
56 notes
·
View notes
Note
What you ever thought about doing a soft version of bombeep??
well thought is I've been asked about soft bombeep before actually but I never knew and still don't how to make a good whitty that would fit but whatever, just going with vibes now so ye lets go
slightly darker clothing and such related things bc reasons but also sometimes wearing cat ears and a mask in an effort to look less intimidating to people bc he's just a big softie obviously uwu
#bombeep#soft!bombeep#I guess ha#regular au whitty is just a big softie aswell ofc but soft whitty is even softer yet looks more scary maybe so lol makes sense#making soft whitty edgier looking than usual is a totally valid way to go right lol the cat ears make up for it I think lol#he also got eyeliner and rings and a choker and probably a silver chain aswell he's getting all the drip lol fun stuff#soft bf uh I kept his regular shade of the skin and the hair that I usually use for basic bf bc he just looked too pale to me otherwise ha#rest is mostly the soft colors anyways so ye#gave him some pastel nail polish bc idk I feel like it'd fit bc ye#whitty also got nail polish man they both got nails now they never had that before oh geez#also bf's hair is drawn slightly different idk probably won't affect the regular doodles just tried something different I guess lol#for the softer look I guess it works ha#also idk anything abt the soft mod and the story so just take this as an au of an au if things don't fit tbh I'm just vibin lol#anyways basic pose is basic and doodle kinda lazy but not gonna complain too much so#take it or leave it#fnf au#fnf soft au#fnf shipping#boyfriend#whitty#bf#soft!bf#soft!whitty#or well soft enough I guess lol#I draw what I want#thanks for the suggestion#stay groovy friendo
117 notes
·
View notes
Text
i can’t stop looking at these pictures like the triple serve…
#they said u each get some rings n a white frilly shirt make it work n they did they really did#my babygirl xiaojun didn’t even let them finish he tucked his hair behind his ear n Posed#.txt
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
===|0====|0|=====|0|0
Yandere Spin-offs
Introducing the photographer
|0=====0|0====|
(Bimbo Fem reader!)
===|0====|0|=====|0|0
Cw: 🔞MDNI🔞 mutual masterbation, praise, degradation, coercion, dubious consent, thighjob, cum facial, slight humiliation
===|0====|0|=====|0|0
Yandere photographer who asks you upfront to model for him in exchange for a hefty fee. Handing you his business card with his name and address in fine print. His name was Covu, he had dark messy wavy hair which covered his tacky circular glasses showcasing dull emerald green eyes. While his body adorned casual baggy clothing with a professional camera slung across his lean shoulder.
Truth be told Covu had his eyes on you for awhile now, so he knew your day by day schedule. From the countless stakeouts outside your job working as a retail worker. With his prized scrapbook dedicated to you, he jotted down everything from your little quirks, habits, to the overall actions you did throughout the day from the photographs he took of you every instance he gets. And from what he already gathered you fell under the ditzy bimbo category who was so sweet and yet so stupidly naive. The perfect match for him.
The photographer couldn’t help but grow enamored with you in every type of way. From your soft sweet curves to your adorable smile and especially from how you make his hands itch with the urge to take candle lit photographs of you in 69 different lewd positions. So today was the day he approached his lovely model, Covu made sure to take extra care in grooming himself to seem like an functional human being just for you. Even though he still looked like a hot bum he was at the very least a presentable one.
“Hey if you’re ever interested in modeling for me. Ring me up and I’ll pay you however much you’re willing to receive”
Covu’s voice was small but blunt and straight to the point as he stared intensely at you trying to burn the sight of his future private model into his lecherous cold eyes. But before he could turn away to head somewhere else to let you think about it, he was abruptly stopped by a short tug of his arm sleeves.
His heart thumped loudly at the sight of you looking criminally cute. As you brightly accepted the offer from a stranger such as himself right off the bat without any care for your self preservation. Licking his lips he couldn’t help but hide the ravenous smirk that spread from ear to ear at your innocent response.
He could feel artblock magically vanish as artistic inspiration began brewing in his mind all thanks to his dearest bimbo of a model. And boy did he have a lot of ideas in mind so best believe he was going to take advantage and put you to work.
"Oh fuck...you're so fucking sexy. Pose just like that for me."
He mumbled under his breath, his delirious green eyes fixated on your enchanting body as you put on the lingerie. You had agreed to model for him under the pretense that the photos will be used for the catalogue of Victoria secret. Diligently he snapped pictures of you from every delightful angle, paying no mind to the tent he was pitching in his baggy sweats. Until Covu couldn't resist the urge to touch himself, his slender hand palming the bulge as he kept his attention on you.
It was time to have you switch positions,
"Now... For this photo shoot we’re focusing on a erotic theme so I need you to start touching yourself down here babe."
Covu uttered, his voice barely above a whisper as he struggled to keep himself under control. The temptation of making you his was driving him crazy. As he reached out and guide your hand to your scantily clothed pussy, from observing your confused expression his fingers trailing over your skin as he gave you a tiny devilish smile. From seeing how flustered you were, oh you were just so endearing he couldn’t help but want to tease you even more.
"Yes that’s it work your fingers and follow the natural curves of your body...don't be afraid to explore. Hmm? Why’s my dick out you say? Well that’s to get the sexy mood going on. I am a pro after all and I want to get only the perfect shots”
He announced shamelessly his voice calm and steady as he furiously jerked off at the sight of you obediently touching yourself as per his detailed instructions. Skillfully multitasking between getting nice shots of you in revealing outfits as he continued to work both you and himself into completion. Feeling himself teetering off the edge Covu gritted his teeth and got closer to you, his cock throbbing with need as he jerked off over your body. You both moaned out loud in his art studio unable to hold back any longer.
He watched with foggy glasses as you laid there breathless your juices dripping down your legs. While his mind was consumed with pornographic images of you covered in rivers of his pearly white cum. Taking extra care to examine the thick globs of his cum sticking on your cheeks as it began to slide down. And without saying a word he gently crouched down in front of you shrugging his camera to the side as he angled your blissed out face towards his giving you a sleazy mean smirk.
“You look gorgeous all glammed up in my cum doll but snap out of it. We still got tons of photoshoots to do”
Covu cooed lazily as he relished the sight of you trying to gather your bearing but ultimately failing when he pressed his cold lips against the column of your neck. Leaving a kiss mark on your skin before pressing his forehead against yours staring deep into your eyes as he said in a soft commanding tone.
“Now for this next photo shoot I want to see you on all fours. Presenting yourself to me like the cute little slut you are.”
Once as you got into position, Covu wasted no time in slotting himself behind you under the pretense of fixing your posture via his long. Yanking his sweats down to sandwich his weeping hard long dick between your sweaty plush thighs. Rutting against you in fluid strokes, he made sure to bump the tip of his throbbing cock against your clothed budding clit. Taking out his phone, he recorded your lewd expressions as he messaged and groped at your jiggling fat tits with his other hand.
“Cmon my pretty model~ you need to arch your back and keep squeezing them thick thighs for me. I’m not one for paying slackers you know?”
He rasped in your ear with a impish grin as he toyed with you by bombarding you with his lewd demands. As he stripped you from your lingerie bra to pinch and pull at your full nipples, rolling them between his two fingers. Covu nipped the nape of your neck with his sharp canines. While he pumped his hips, smacking his pelvis against the fat of your ass as his long dick continued collecting the slick from your wet cunt which constantly dribbled down, covering his shaft.
"That's it, baby... just like that you look so fucking erotic does feeling my dick rub up against your wet cunt turn you on that much?"
He chuckled darkly as his nimble fingers found themselves at the hem of your lacy panties, slowly dragging them to the side exposing your quivering pussy. Using his thumb to press against the winking drenched hole, collecting a string of slick your so he could smear it all over his lips. So that he could smell and taste you when he prepared to take things a step further…
.
.
.
Part 2? 👀
#yandere drabble#yandere oc#yandere smut#Covu the photographer#yanderecore#yandere community#yandere concept#yandere content#yandere imagines#yandere scenarios#yandere headcanons#male yandere#yandere male x reader#fem reader#yandere x female reader#smut drabble#smut imagine#smut scenarios#smut headcanons#yandere photographer
646 notes
·
View notes
Text
I once had to pose in a ton of photos for a friend's AP photography final back in high school so may I present to you:
Steve Harrington, who gave in to Robin's begging that he act as her weird art model for her senior year portfolio (the same one her teacher is encouraging her to bat out of the ballpark and enter into contests.)
She's doing a whole thing on fashion, subcultures and sexuality using photos and collaged poetry, a project that has Steve trying on different outfits and posing in different places.
"This might help me land a scholarship, Dingus." She hisses while she's got him bent over her bathtub, spraying parts of his hair blue with wash-out dye.
Steve, soulmate and best friend extraordinaire, goes through it all with minimal (for him) bitching, even if the goth outfit feels absolutely ridiculous, and the 'geek' photoshoot downright laughable.
He starts to have fun when she has him mimic Nancy's straight laced, all A's good girl aura, and equally has a blast with the country look (he has no idea where Robin got a miniature horse but it conned him for every piece of food he had on him and then some.)
The final piece is the one they're struggling with, the one Robin's now (fake) dying his hair partially blue for.
A few hours later and he's dressed up once again in a studded leather jacket, the tightest jeans he owns ringed with belts, and combat boots.
Robin had even talked him into letting her use eyelash glue to attach a few metal studs on his face--two acting as an eyebrow piercing and one on his nose.
The looks he drew took a minute to get used too when all was said and done, Robin dragging him around Hawkins while she tried to find the 'perfect backdrop' but he's not gonna lie.
He kinda enjoys being punk Steve.
That is, until Robin has him posing in an alleyway and Eddie Munson comes around the corner, jaw right about falling to the floor.
Even better?
Eddie doesn't recognize him.
Not at first, when he siddles up to Steve, nodding to the handkerchief in Steve's back pocket and then flicking the pink triangle pin on his jacket with a finger.
Steve owes Jonathan a bottle of his father's best alcohol for giving him enough knowledge to get through the music razing Eddie subjects him too, and Steve's all too happy to play the part of punk asshole to Munson's music-snob metalhead.
It's not until Eddies playing with his hair and Robin gives in to letting him have a quick break from the shoot that he gives up the ghost, leaning in to whisper in Eddie's ear.
"Gotta say, Munson," Steve all but purrs."I wasn't expecting you to fall for the Harrington Charm that fast."
"What?" Eddie asks, jerking his head back to look at him with wide eyes.
Maybe it's the outfit giving him the extra ounce of courage, but Steve likes to think more that it gives him the freedom to lean forward and brush their lips together.
Eddie doesn't return it, but that's alright.
Steve's played this game enough to know that it was merely a hook for a real kiss.
"Okay." Robin says, annoyed, camera at her side. "Steve, I'm happy that you're finally exploring that repressed as fuck homosexuality we keep arguing about, I really am, but I have to get this last photo!"
He ignores her, instead nudging Eddie's shoulders.
"Care to pose with me?" Steve asks, grinning. He can tell Eddie still isn't sure if this is a joke, that he's seconds from running, and reaches out to tug on his black handkerchief. "Get Robin her photo, and then talk about this after, Mr. S&M."
Eddie flushes scarlet, but after some reassurance (and wheelding) from Robin, finally agrees.
(Later, he agrees to a date, which Steve also credits the outfit for.
Even if Robin demands half the credit.)
#punk steve#except not#steddie#robin buckley#steve harrington#eddie munson#platonic stobin#just think if Eddie had stumbled over the geek outfit#or the mini horse#micro fic#0o0 fanfics#stranger things#stranger things fanfic
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
Eddie loves his shy girl so much, he’ll always call her “my girl” or “the wife” “the mrs” around others just to watch how red she gets 🥹🥹 but soon he finds that calling her the wife feels natural and right, he realizes she’s the only girl he ever wants
he totally does omg. bro def calls you his wife with absolutely no shame. thank u for the ask angel!!
summary: eddie calls shy!you a lot of names. all of them make you flustered beyond belief
shy!fem!reader 1k words
Steve’s invited you all to drinks to celebrate him and Robin finally copping a job that isn’t slinging ice cream or sitting behind a video store counter all day. Eddie’s helping you pick out an outfit. It’s taking longer than you’d expected. Something about posing for Eddie makes you so nervous you can barely walk.
“Are you done yet?” Eddie’s voice on the other side of the door is far from impatient, even though it should be by now.
You grumble something incoherent instead of answering. Eddie heard you and laughs.
“Y/N,” he says seriously. The effect is ruined because you can hear his smile in the way he says your name. “We’re gonna be late, baby. Come out and show me the dress. I bet this is the one.”
You stare at yourself in the mirror for a few seconds. It is a nice dress. It’s a good length and makes your chest look nice, the colour looks pretty on your skin. Still, you’re embarrassed. You don’t like dressing up. It feels attention-seeking.
You scrub your face with both hands and take a big breath. “Alright, fine.”
You turn away from the mirror before you can stop yourself and yank the bathroom door open. Eddie’s waiting for you on your bed, sitting pretty, if a little slouched. He has bad posture. But his back goes rigid when he sees you — he sits up straight and lets his jaw drop.
“Babe,” he half-whispers, totally in awe, his eyes blown wide. He’s definitely laying it on thick but you can sense the genuineness underneath it all. His eyes traverse a path down your body and back up again, leaving your skin burning. And he hasn’t even touched you yet. “Baby. Honey. Darling. You look amazing.”
You flush all over despite yourself. “Eddie,” you say, chiding.
Eddie pretends to look offended. “What?” He leaps off the bed and gets one hand around your waist, the fabric of your dress shushing under his touch. “I’m serious, Y/N. You’re a real stunner, you know that?”
His other hand finds your elbow and pushes all the way up to your bicep, his fingers pressing into your skin. You burn like a furnace where he touches you. You knew this part was coming.
“Thank you, Eddie,” you say, genuine underneath all the shyness.
Eddie looks like he’s about to say something more but you’re saved from his doting by the phone next to your bed ringing loudly. You make to get it but Eddie beats you to it.
“Hello?” He says into the phone, sounding half-annoyed. “Oh. Hi, Steve. Yeah, no, we’re coming. The Mrs is just getting ready.” A pause in which Eddie meets your eye and winks. You flush even worse than you already were. Eddie goes back to talking to Steve. “Uh-huh. Yeah, we’ll be there in ten. Bye, Harrington.”
Eddie puts the phone back and you try to compose yourself. The Mrs, he’d called you. You feel like you could die.
Meanwhile Eddie’s grabbing his jacket from the bedpost and shrugging it on. “He’s badgering us about being late,” he says, pushing his arms through the sleeves. “We better get going, dove.” He looks up at you, half in his jacket. “Do you need me to carry anything for you?”
My heart? You think. Then maybe your chest wouldn’t hurt so much. You shake your head.
“No, um. That’s okay.” You push your hair behind your ears and try not to show how much he’s undone you with his antics. “I’ll just grab my purse.”
Eddie smiles at you. “Okay. I’ll meet you in the car?”
You nod. “Yeah.”
Ten minutes later you’ve arrived at the bar and Eddie’s leading you inside with a hand at the small of your back. He smells good, like the cologne you’d bought him forever ago that he wears basically every day.
You step inside the semi-crowded bar and Eddie spots your friend group before you do.
“They’re over there, by the window,” he says, pointing. “C’mon.”
He takes your hand and pulls you in the direction of your friends. You let him guide you and he pleases, his hand a warm weight in yours. You stare at the back of his head until you arrive at the table. Steve, Robin, Nancy and Jonathan are all here.
“Munson!” Robin cheers. Your eyes zero in on the drink in her hand and you think she’s maybe already a bit tipsy. Then she spots you and beams. “Y/N!”
You smile back. “Hi, Robs. Hi, everyone, sorry we’re late.” You give a sheepish laugh and glance at Eddie. “My fault.”
“It was worth it though, right?” Eddie says enthusiastically, to the group at whole. He throws an arm around your shoulder and jostles you gently. “Doesn’t my girl look great?”
My girl. Your face burns. There’s a chorus of agreement from around the table — it makes you feel better but not better enough that you’re not still flushing furiously.
“Eddie,” you mumble, avoiding everyone’s eyes and staring at the tabletop instead. You elbow him in the side, too gentle for what you feel he deserves.
Eddie laughs loudly. “What?” He asks, even though he knows exactly what.
You huff and wish the floor would swallow you up. When it doesn’t, you let Eddie pull you into the booth next to Robin. It’s a tight squeeze and Eddie’s thigh presses into yours, his jeans warm and rough on your skin where your dress rides up your thighs.
You think Eddie notices this too because he lets his hand fall to your lap instead of his own, spreading his hand over your thigh, his fingers grazing your bare skin. He squeezes you and you try not to show how much he affects you.
“Drinks?” He asks you, like everything is completely normal and you’re not a nervous, flustered wreck right now.
“Okay,” you say, unable to get more than one word out.
Eddie grins wolfishly. You think he’s probably planning on being like this all night. You don’t mind as much as you should.
-
“Okay,” you say, unable to get more than one word out.
Eddie grins wolfishly. You think he’s probably planning on being like this all night. You don’t mind as much as you should.
-
#★ mal writes!#ღ eds#eddie munson#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson drabble#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fic#eddie munson x reader fluff#eddie munson x shy!reader fluff#eddie munson x shy!reader#eddie munson blurbs#eddie munson drabbles#✉️
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
lady killers ˗ˏˋ rafe cameron !
"man i'm a lady killer, if i want her i'mma steal her" / g-eazy
pairing. dealer!rafe cameron x innocent(ish)!reader
summary. his constant cycle of partying with privilege grants him anything he wants, until you show up to break the pattern.
contains. alcohol and drug use, tension, sexually suggestive, implied age gap, cliffhanger
the lifestyle comes with its perks, constantly surrounded by pretty girls who were more than willing to follow him upstairs. direct access to any substance he wanted, displayed messily across the polished coffee table at all times. not to mention the adrenaline-boosting boom of a surrounding party in some kid's ridiculously expensive house - thrown almost nightly.
it became a normality for him, whether or not he realized how unhealthy his habits may be. blinded by the attention, money, and already through-the-roof addition of popularity, the boy let himself be overcome by it all. but hey, isn't this how you're supposed to live life after graduation?
you, on the other hand, were never overly thrilled at the idea of occupying your time with what seemed to be an endless string of these things. that being said, it wasn't an unfamiliar scene after having wasted a couple of saturdays with friends before.
you also weren't one to deny the opportunity for a good night. which is why you didn't put up much of a fight when none other than sarah cameron insisted on your presence at a party she was hosting in her family's mansion.
she was friendly enough, but not to the extent of being by your side for the duration of the whole night because of an invite most likely given out to everyone in her contacts - that part had you a bit nervous. the idea of being stranded in a room full of highly intoxicated kids you hardly knew.
all precautions were eventually thrown out the window when you found yourself getting all dolled up in the bathroom mirror. mascara turning out perfect over a flawless base, hair down and flowing neatly, a strapless pale pink sundress you'd bought with sarah weeks ago tying it all together.
with one final application of lipgloss over expertly lined lips and a brief pose checking your reflection, you were headed out. fresh acrylics plucking your keys from the household bowl and looking down at your phone to check the time just as it rings, stopping your hand from unlocking the front door.
a sigh escapes you as you juggle everything in your hands to bring the device to your ear after blindly swiping to answer. a loud shout of your name has you flinching and furrowing your brows in confusion - and maybe annoyance. "yeah? hello?"
"c'mon, i'm outside!" a girl all but yells and it isn't until you hear a sweet, enthusiastic laugh that you recognize the voice.
"sarah?" you ask, though already having discarded the keys and slipped on your shoes lying ready by the doormat.
"let's go! i've got a party to entertain," the words are followed by the muffled sound of her shifting around, and you take it as your grace period to get outside before she takes off.
throwing open the door and hurrying down the steps of the front porch, you can't help but smile at the girl sitting in the driver's seat of a black jeep. beaming over at you, she hangs up the phone and ushers you over to the otherwise vacant car with a flailing hand.
the trip to tannyhill is filled with wide smiles and giggles over speakers blaring iconic summer songs. windows rolled down to take in an orangey-pink sky from the setting sun - which almost distracts from how sharp sarah takes what seems to be every turn in town.
the suv eventually comes to a stop after sliding down into the basement garage that screams wealth, right past all the cars lined up along the street. sarah hops out and offers a toothy grin while tossing her sunglasses in the center console.
"i'm so happy you're finally at one of my parties," she says while taking your hand and eagerly leading the way upstairs, her own dress swaying as she walks.
"me too," is all you offer in response, too entranced by the new level of rich that surrounds you while following blindly.
the mansion feels more like a maze as sarah leads you down and around hallways not yet crowded with partygoers. but, the blasting of music that vibrates the house says otherwise.
moonlight quickly replaces the sunshine, making visibility near impossible as you enter where the mass of everyone is. still hand in hand with sarah, you take the chance to look around.
between all the groups in the kitchen and on a makeshift dance floor, it's someone sitting among a circle of couches and chairs that has you doing a double take. turning back the second time is when you recognize the boy with his eyes still glued on you, wiping under his nose, to be rafe.
you don't miss the lazy smirk he shoots before sarah tugs you back to reality, finally dropping your hand and turning to stand face-to-face with the same excited smile.
"you'll be fine if i go say hi to a few people?" she asks, glancing across your face to genuinely gauge your feelings.
"'course. thanks, sarah," you answer convincingly enough that she's scurrying off to talk with whoever awaits her presence.
the best option you conclude is to go straight for the drinks. a quick scan of the counter and you're grabbing a red solo cup to fill with the first bottle you can get your hands on.
"better take slow sips of that," a voice behind you says, low and close enough to know it's you they're addressing. startled, you turn around, only to be face to face with rafe cameron. he must notice the way you tilt your head up with wide eyes, because he takes the opportunity to eye you up and step closer.
"you friends with sarah?" he asks as you set down the bottle of alcohol on the counter behind you, nodding casually - even with the way he's watching your every move so intently.
"mhm," you muster up, naturally a bit nervous standing under the mercy of 'kook prince' himself.
"yeahhh.." he draws out while taking a greedy eyeful of your whole being, tongue pressed to his cheek and making no effort to hide his arrogant smirk. there's a pause before he's nodding back towards the lounge he was previously sat without taking his eyes off you - your body. "y'wanna come with me and try the good shit?"
you look down at your cup when he taps it, swishing the cheap liquid while thinking over his offer. it doesn't take long before you're looking back up with a hesitant shake of your head and a small smile, murmuring, "don't think so.. not really my thing."
he tsks and shakes his head, taking it upon himself to ease the cup from your hand and positioning himself closer. he tilts his head to purposefully look down on you and get in your face, a smirk still present as he speaks lowly, "aww, c'mon. i'll keep you safe."
a nervous laugh and involuntary flush of your cheeks has you unable to refuse. rubbing your lip with a shy nod - admittedly not the most well-thought-out decision - and he's got a hand on your lower back to guide you, following close enough behind to allow his eyes to flicker subtly below your dress.
you approach the collection of seats, wary but not completely oblivious. rafe sits you down on a loveseat, hand moving to wrap around your waist and pull you to his side. the attention from this boy blurs the scene around you, rolled bills on the table, and various baggies with a particular white substance.
"so, um, what's the.. 'good' stuff?" you ask tentatively, looking up at him and shifting in the seat.
"'s all right here, baby," his grin is almost malicious and his eyes shamelessly drop to your lips. removing the arm around you, he spreads his legs and lifts his hips to fish for something in his back pocket.
you take the opportunity to look around at his company and it's no surprise to find topper and kelce among other random guys - even a couple girls who admittedly look a bit older than you and sarah. before processing the thought, you're looking to rafe for reassurance.
he, however, is focused intently on setting up a line of powder on your side of the table with a sharp black card. he sits back with a satisfied grin and looks over at you. "first one's free."
you stare up at him with big, cautious eyes for a moment before turning to the intimidatingly thick string of white.
he chuckles and uses a finger to smudge the neat line, collecting a less daunting amount on the digit. a nod of his head signals he wants you closer, so you do, positioning your body to face him.
snaking a hand to hold firmly behind your neck, he tilts your head back only slightly and prepares to bring his finger to your nose. a raise of his brow asks for permission and you nod.
the substance shoots through you unexpectedly quick which has you screwing your eyes shut and wincing. the reaction only amuses rafe and he moves the arm around your shoulder and tugs you into him once again.
finding solace in the embrace, you allow yourself to sink into his chest - an unsafe level of vulnerability. everything is loud, the booming of music and people feeling increasingly suffocating.
rafe laughs again, smirking in a way that now seems taunting. he takes a good look at you before leaning in to let his warm breath brush against your ear. "y'know, you're real pretty."
that's when you really think about what's happening right now. laying against rafe cameron - who for one reason or another seems to have taken a liking to you. the drug pumping through you and butterflies in your stomach has your heart beating with excitement.
it also has you fluttering your lashes up at rafe with a dopey smile, telling him all he needs to know. all it took was a dot of coke and he's got you right where he wants you.
"why don't you let me take you upstairs?" he presses in a way that shows the line has worked a million times before.
but who are you to turn him down? there's no denying how tempting he is and your attraction towards him. but instead, you shrug and look around in search of sarah.
it takes a minute before you catch her eyes and are met with a concerned yet angry expression. she's quickly by your side and pulling you up from the couch, glaring down at her brother.
"leave my friends alone, rafe." with that, sarah is tugging you away and back through the crowd. your hazy state makes it hard to resist, but you manage to look back at the boy on the couch. he's sitting back, clearly amused but not deterred.
a wink is all he gives before paying his attention back to his friends, leaving you to wonder what all of this meant.
one thing about rafe, though, is when he sets his sights on something - someone - he gets what he wants. he knows he will, and you're no exception.
555 notes
·
View notes
Text
[ID: Two digital drawings of Jon and Martin from The Magnus Archives in lovecore themed outfits. Both are on pink backgrounds covered in hearts with a larger heart behind each of them. The first image is of Jon, a thin Arab man with brown skin and long curly black and gray hair and a matching mustache. He's wearing a pale pink button down, a lilac argyle sweater-vest with pink hearts, pink flared trousers and lighter pink shoes. He's also wearing pink half-moon glasses with a matching chain with heart beads. He is posed as though floating with his knees bent and he has one hand over his chest and is holding a bouquet of roses in the other as he smiles to the upper right. There is a large shiny pink heart over his actual heart.
The second image is of Martin, a fat white man with freckles, a tooth gap, and long red hair pulled into a low ponytail and body hair. He's wearing a pale lilac button down and a long hot pink cardigan with the sleeves rolled up, pale pink trousers, hot pink loafers, a magenta neck scarf, and a gold belt, cuff, and scarf ring all with pink hearts as the buckle or charm. He is also wearing gold round glasses with pink lenses and gold ear gauges and two gold ear cuffs. He is posed as though floating with his legs tucked under him and his arms outstretched, holding out a floating shiny pink heart, smiling towards the bottom left. end ID]
~~~~
happy valentine's day gamers!! i wanted to do a lovecore jon cuz he's just so full of love and i thought well, i can't just NOT make a matching martin, so here they are!!
#fg's art#the magnus archives#tma#jonathan sims#martin blackwood#jonmartin#jmart#eyestrain#ask to tag#kissing both of them tbh
653 notes
·
View notes
Text
There’s No Such Thing As Purity
(Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader)
Summary: You and Rafe are childhood best friends and as far as he’s concerned you’re an innocent angel he needs to protect from the world. But he discovers a whole other side of you when you accidentally send him nudes that were meant for someone else. Wk: 4.9k
Warnings: Drinking/smoking weed, jealous!Rafe, posessive!Rafe, minor Jj x reader, brat taming, choking, spanking, spit kink, tiddy slapping, hair pulling, face fucking, fingering, orgasm denial, daddy kink, unprotected sex.18+MDNI!!!
A/N: this is only my second Rafe fic so pls be niiicee to me. But I love this man. I need him to own me and put me in my place. Thank you to my sweet angel @babygorewhore for listening to me rant about this, and for beta reading for me. Ilysm. Also this is based off the song “Purity” by Lilyisthatyou.
You’re not necessarily faded, but you’ve had a couple drinks and you smoked a blunt with a few of your friends when you first got here so you’re feeling a little buzzed. You check your phone and to your delight your sneaky link that you asked to meet you here had responded that he would be on his way soon. You smirk down at the screen, excusing yourself to the bathroom so you could respond to him how you really wanted to.
You close the bathroom door and pull your little crop top over your head, leaving you in just your low waisted mini skirt that you push down even further so your thong straps are on display. You stand in front of the large full length mirror on the bathroom wall, holding your phone camera up while you pose. You take a few shots, then a few more, until you're satisfied that at least a couple of them will be good enough to send. You spend a few minutes going through them before deciding on two.
One is straight on, your tits fully on display, your free hand pulling one of your thong straps up even further, and your tongue is sticking out. The second is from the side, showing the curve of your back and the top of your ass sticking out of your skirt, two fingers between your lips. You smirk, satisfied with your work. You select the two photos before typing out the text to accompany them.
“When are you getting here?😉”
In your somewhat hazy, horny state you click the most recent contact on your list and hit send. You didn’t think anything of it, since as far as you know he’s the last person that texted you. But what you failed to realize is during your little photoshoot your best friend had texted you, and you sent them to him instead. Seconds later your phone starts to ring, Rafe’s contact and a goofy photo of the two of you popping up on the screen.
“Hey, what’s up?” You answer cheerfully.
“What's up? What’s up with you? What’s up with those photos?” Rafe sounds pissed, which isn’t unlike him, but it’s very rarely directed at you.
“Photos? What’re you-?” It takes your slightly inebriated mind a second to catch up but when it does you gasp, pulling the phone away from your ear to pull up your texts. Your entire body warms and your heart feels like it’s going to fall out of your ass when you realize you sent him the photos, and not the intended recipient. “Oh god… fuck. Rafe listen, can we not make this a thing? Those weren’t for you, just delete them so we can forget this ever happened.”
“Who were they for then, huh? Also where the hell are you? I thought you were staying home tonight.” This was not good. You and Rafe have been best friends since you were kids, and he’s always been extremely protective of you, some may say overprotective. So things like guys and hookups? You keep them to yourself when it comes to him.
“Uh - I don’t see why that really matters? Can you just fucking delete them? Also I was going to stay home but then the girls convinced me to come with them to this party. You’re busy tonight anyways? I don’t know why it’s a big deal.” You huff in annoyance.
“It fucking matters because what if something happened to you? Since when do you go to parties without me anyways? You could’ve at least told me you decided to go out. Also you’re sending guys nudes now? Since when? Who is this fucker?”
“Rafe!!! You need to calm down. Seriously, we don’t have to make this a thing, okay? Just fucking delete them and go back to doing whatever it is you were doing. Please.” Your voice comes out more whiny than you mean it to, but you know he’s a sucker for your pouting so you're hoping it will calm him down a bit.
“No, seriously, answer my fucking questions.” He sneers your name into the phone and it sends chills down your spine. He’s been irritated with you before, of course. But never talked to you like this and you have to admit that it’s doing something to you. You’ve always wanted him, but he’s always seen you as this precious angel he needs to protect, innocent. When truly? You’re anything but. You go to parties without him when he’s busy all the time, and as far as your innocence? That was long gone.
“Oh my god. I already told you, I’m at a fucking party, okay? I’m here with my friends. You’re acting like I’ve never gone to a party without you or like I’m a child that needs to be watched and you’re honestly being really dramatic.” Rafe is taken back by your tone. You’re normally so soft and cheerful with him. But right now? You were acting like a fucking brat.
“At a party, where? And you still didn’t answer my other question. Who. Were. The. Pictures. For?” You can tell he’s pacing the room and running his fingers through his hair with his nostrils flared. The image makes your thighs clench. You’ve always fantasized about Rafe putting you in your place, he treats you like a princess, lets you do whatever you want. Granted you’re usually very sweet to him, but tonight? You’re wondering how far you can push him before he finally snaps. “You know you share your location with me, right? I can just fucking look myself if you don’t wanna tell me.”
“Jesus Christ, Rafe! It’s at Matt’s house! Are you happy? I’m still on figure 8, literally a few blocks from my house!! And as far as who the pictures were for? Just a guy, okay? I don’t know why the specifics matter. It’s almost like you’re jealous or something.” You tried to hold it in, you really did, but you’ve been holding back from saying that for years. It was like he didn’t want any guys near you, but he never did anything about it himself and you were over it.
“What if I am?” He practically growls into the phone and that wasn’t the response you were expecting. You had never brought up his possessiveness until now, but other people had and he always said something along the lines of ‘I’m not fuckin’ jealous, it’s just no man is good enough for my best friend’ and it always made your heart deflate, just a bit.
“Are you?”
“Just fucking stay there, alright? I’m coming to get you.” He doesn’t wait for you to respond, the line going dead. Your text notification goes off, the guy who you meant to send the photos to letting you know he arrived at the party. Suddenly you feel shockingly sober.
You take a deep breath to collect your thoughts. You have two options here. Option one, hide in the bathroom until Rafe gets here and then leave with him, totally avoiding any further drama for the night. Or, option two, you could go out there, and when Rafe gets here, you could see if he really is jealous… Fuck it. You pull your shirt over your head, look in the mirror to check your hair, and exit the bathroom.
You weave through the sweaty bodies in the living room and head out back to where your date said he would be waiting for you. Your eye’s scan the patio, searching for those blonde locks. Your eye’s meet smug blue ones, a cocky smirk on his lips. Yeah, Rafe was absolutely going to lose his shit when he found out those photos were meant for none other than Jj Maybank. Probably one of the last people on earth he would want you fucking around with. But you ran into him at a party a few weeks ago, hooked up with him in a random bedroom, and you’re not ashamed to say you’ve gone back for seconds. And thirds. And forths too. It’s not your fault it was the best dick you’ve ever had in your life.
“Hey princess, how’s a goin’?” He approaches you, his eyes unabashedly roaming your curves in your little party outfit. He brings his thumb to your bottom lip, running across it before leaning in close so his lips brush your ear. “You look good enough to eat.”
“Yeah? Maybe you’ll get to try a bite later.” You lean back so you can look up into his eyes, biting your lip. For a second you almost forget all about the Rafe dibocle, getting lost in Jj’s now familiar, fresh, but still somehow musky scent and those eyes that remind you of the ocean water that surrounds your home. But you couldn’t forget about Rafe for long. Your feelings for Jj are so incredibly surface level compared to the feelings you have for him. “You wanna get a drink? And dance?”
“Sure thing, pretty girl.” He winks at you, throwing an arm over your shoulder.
After you take a shot together you drag him out onto the makeshift dance floor Matt set up on his parents back patio. You start to sway your hips to the music that booms from the large speakers that were set up around the area and Jj hungrily eyes your curves. He pulls a joint from behind his ear, raising it between the two of you with his eyebrow cocked and you nod in response.
You continue to sway, turning your back towards Jj so you can rub your ass against him. He pops the joint in his mouth, turning his head to the side so he can use one hand to light it, his other hand coming down to grab onto your hip. His fingertips graze the skin above your skirt and it gives you goosebumps. After he takes a few puffs off the joint he holds it to your mouth, his skin grazing your soft lips. You turn your head over your shoulder to blow the smoke in his mouth and he takes the hint immediately connecting his lips with yours. But before you can even fully shotgun the hit to him your entire body is suddenly ripped away from his, a large hand pulling you by your forearm.
“WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT? HUH? WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE FUCKIN’ DOING?” Rafe’s voice bellows over the music as he pulls you towards him, causing you to trip and fall into his chest.
“Rafe, I’m just having fun, you need to chill. Seriously.” You push against him but he uses the hold he still has on your arm to pull you closer. His free hand comes up to your jaw, gripping it roughly, forcing you to look up at him.
“I need to chill? Are you fuckin’ joking? Is this who those pictures were for? This dirty fuckin’ pouge? Are you fucking him?” His eyes hold a fire that’s never been directed towards you, and logically you should be pissed, you should slap him across the face for acting like this. But instead you feel your panties get even wetter under his angry gaze, the feeling of his hand on your jaw making your knees weak.
“Hey bro, you need to back the fuck off! She told you to chill, get off her!” Jj tries to grab onto your free hand but Rafe doesn’t allow it, he grips onto your hips, using his hold on you to push you to the other side of him, away from Jj.
“You’re the one that needs to fuck off bro.” Rafe gets in his face, his nostrils flared, his eyes filled with rage. “Keep your dirty fuckin hands off my girl, fuckin’ pouge trash.”
“Your girl, huh? She didn’t seem like she was your girl when she was beggin’ me to let her cum last weekend.” Jj smirks, his eyes boring right back into the taller man’s. Rafe growls, using all his force to push him so hard he falls to the ground.
“Yeah bitch, my fucking girl. Stay the fuck away from her or I’ll beat your ass so bad they won’t be able to identify you when you get to the fucking hospital.” He spits on the ground in front of the blonde’s feet before turning back to you with his jaw and fists clenched. “Bathroom. Now.”
You stare up at him with wide eyes, speechless. My girl. My girl. My girl. Replaying like a mantra in your head. After a few seconds of you standing there like a deer caught in the headlights, Rafe lost his patience. He swiftly closed the few foot gap between you, his large ringed hand gripping the back of your neck. He bends down so his face is level with yours, blue eyes filled with fire staring down at you.
“I said. Bathroom. Now. Start fucking walking.” He practically growls when he says it and you have to hold in a whimper. The hand on your neck glides down to your shoulder, turning you away from him without giving you a chance to respond. You have half a mind to talk back to him. But he seems like he’s two seconds away from turning around and taking his anger out on Jj and you’ve definitely done enough damage in that department for the night, so you start walking.
“Take me to the bathroom you took those little pictures in.” You squeal when halfway down the hall Rafe grabs onto your hair from behind you, pulling your head back against his chest. He’s looking down at you hungrily, his tongue running across his bottom lip. “I wanna take some pictures of my own.”
As soon as the bathroom door is shut he’s on you, shoving you up against it by your throat, his lips smashing against yours in a bruising kiss. He slips his tongue into your mouth using it to dominate your own. Just when you feel yourself start to get lost in it he pulls away, a pout forming in your lips.
“Seriously, what the hell has gotten into, Bunny? Where’s my sweet little innocent best friend? Cause this girl I’ve seen tonight, she’s certainly not her.” He looms over you, the look in his eyes is wild, he looks like he wants to devour you and god you’d be lying if you said you wouldn’t let him do just about anything to you right now.
“Maybe there’s a side of me you don’t know about, ever thought of that?” The smirk that spreads across your lips is seductive, the look in your eyes mischievous. “You do know I have a life outside of you, right?”
“No fucking shit, I know that. But this is not something I’d expect out of you. Going to parties dressed like that, smoking weed, grinding on pouges.” He snarls at the last part, the hand around your throat tightening slightly. He pushes your legs apart with his foot and shoves his knee between your thighs, pressing it up against your wet clothed core. You try to hold in the moan that escapes you but your body betrays you. “I’m only going to ask you this one more time, was he bullshitting me out there or did you fuck him?”
“Yeah I fucked him, more than once.” That Cheshire smirk reappears on your lips and he wants nothing more than to wipe it off. He releases your throat to grip your jaw, pinching your cheeks together.
“You lost your virginity to a fuckin’ pouge? You let him inside of you? When I’m the only one who's supposed to touch you? Bet he didn’t even make you cum.” He shakes your head from side to side, grinding his knee up into your cunt. You really don’t want to give into him just yet, but you’re losing your resolve quicker with every passing minute.
“HA! My virginity? I hate to break it to you Rafey, but that ship sailed back in highschool. And as far as him making me cum? Say what you want about the pouges but that’s the best dick I’ve ever had.”
“Yeah? Not for fuckin’ long.” He walks over to stand in front of the mirror you had your impromptu photoshoot in. He turns to the side, looking you dead in the eyes as snaps his fingers, his long pointer finger directed towards the ground.
“Are you serious?” You scoff, crossing your arms in defiance. “I’m not sucking you off.”
You absolutely were going to suck him off, but he didn’t need to know that, yet. You were having fun toying with him and getting him worked up.
“Really? Cause I think you want to. I think you did all of this on fuckin purpose to get me going. Come over here and get on your fucking knees for me, bunny. I know you want it.” He smirks, his hands reaching for the button on his shorts. He pulls his cock out and your eyes grow wide, your mouth dropping open. You can’t even hide the look of awe on your face at the sight of his thick cock. It’s almost subconscious the way your feet carry you forward towards him. You approach him, looking up at him through your lashes. His hands grip your shoulders, pushing you down to your knees in front of him. “Take that fucking shirt off.”
You rip your shirt over your head and as soon as it’s off he leans down to grab onto your tits, squeezing them roughly.
“Perfect fuckin’ tits, and they’re all mine huh?” He pulls back and abruptly his large hands smack down on both your tits causing you to let out a yelp. “Say it, say they’re mine.” Two more smacks come in succession.
“They’re yours Rafe, always been yours.” You look at him with big wide eyes and your lips set into a pout. You almost look like his innocent best friend again, but he knows better now.
“Open your fucking mouth, slut. Stick your tongue out.” He takes his cock in his hand, stroking it.
As soon as your tongue leaves your mouth Rafe is smacking the tip of his cock against it. Salty precum hits your tongue and you moan at the taste. His free hand gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail, wrenching your head back so you’re looking at him.
“You done being a fuckin’ brat now? Gonna let me show you who you really belong to?”
“Uh-huh, yeah.” You nod to the best of your ability, all resolve you had left leaving your body. You’re already starting to feel fucked out and he hasn’t even really touched you yet.
“Did I say you could close your mouth? Open.” You stick your tongue out for him again and he leans down to spit on it. “Swallow… Good bunny.”
He pats your cheek and tilts your head back towards his cock. You immediately take his head into your awaiting mouth. You start to swirl your tongue around the tip but Rafe isn’t having it, he’s done with your teasing.
“Just fuckin’ sit still and relax your throat, let me use you like the whore you’ve been acting like all night.” He takes both sides of your head in his hands and thrusts deep into your throat, causing you to gag. “That's it baby, fucking choke on it.”
He starts to fuck into your mouth deep and hard, giving you no time to adjust. You look up at him and his head is thrown back, feral moans leave his lips and his chest is heaving. He pulls your head back, looking down at you. He feels like he’s gonna cum when he does. There’s a string of spit connected from your mouth to his cock, your mascara is running, more drool is dripping down your chin and onto your tits.
“Where’s your phone?” He growls.
“In my purse, probably on the floor by the door where I dropped it when you jumped me.” He rolls his eyes at your attitude, walking over to your purse to pull your phone out. He stands over you again, opening the camera.
“Keep sucking.”
You lean forward and take him back in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down on his dick. You decide you’re going to show him what you’re really made of. One of your hands grabs the base of his cock, stroking what isn’t down your throat, the other comes up to his spit slick balls, rolling them in your palm.
“Fuck. You really are a little slut, sucking me off like it’s your fuckin’ job. You wanna act like a whore? I’ll treat you like one. You wanna send out slutty little pictures to trash from the cut? I’ll help you out with that.” He turns the camera toward the mirror adjacent to where you were standing and snaps a picture of the two of you. Then he flips it towards your face and takes another. “Alright. Get up. Bend your ass over the sink.”
You scramble to your feet and lean down so your upper half is against the counter, your ass and hips in the air. The marble countertop is cool against your bare tits and your skirt rides up over your ass, revealing your little lilac colored thong with a dark spot right in the middle. Rafe groans at the sight, walking up behind you while he pulls his shirt over his head. You tilt your chin up so you can lock eyes with him in the mirror, clenching around nothing at the sight of him standing over your shirtless.
“Look how wet that slutty little pussy is already, all this just from sucking my cock?” He grabs the bottom hem of your skirt forcefully pushing it up over your hips. His hands grip the meat of your ass, spreading your cheeks. One of his long fingers hooks under the thin lace that sits snugly between your ass, pulling it back as far as it can go before letting go. It snaps against your pussy deliciously, making you whimper. “I’ve always wanted to get my hands on this ass. Never thought it’d be like this though, not the first time at least.”
“How’d you think it would be then?” You look over your shoulder at him and he looks like a lion that caught its prey. He doesn’t break eye contact with you when his hand comes down on your ass, once, twice, three times.
“For one, I didn’t think you’d be such a fucking brat. My sweet little bunny. Always acting so innocent. Thought I’d have to be all gentle with you and shit. If I knew you were such a little cock slut I would’ve done this a long time ago.” He spanks you again, but this time it comes from below, the smack hitting your wet lace covered cunt. His fingers hook into your panties, ripping them down your legs. He runs his fingers through your slit, circling around your clit but not never actually touching it. “Look at this fucking pussy, looks so fucking sweet.”
“Please stop teasing me, Rafey.” You whine.
“Please stop teasing me, Rafey.” He mocks, and you think he’s going to keep torturing you but two thick fingers are suddenly being shoved knuckle deep inside you.
“Oh, fuck!” His fingers start fucking you at a brutal pace, this thumb coming down to finally circle your slick covered clit. His free hand comes down on your ass again and it makes you clench around him.
“Whose pussy is this?” Rafe leans over you, his large frame caging your smaller one against the counter top, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “Tell me who fucking owns you.”
“You, you own me, daddy. I’m all yours.” He straight up growls in response, his fingers fuck into you impossibly faster and his lips latch onto your neck, surely sucking a bruise into it. Marking his territory. Your walls start to pulse around him and he can tell you’re getting close.
“You gonna cum? Gonna be a good little girl and cum for your daddy?”
“Yeah I’m gonna - I’m gonna fucking cum.” You push your hips back, fucking yourself against his hand. You're about to tumble over the edge when it’s suddenly ripped away from you, Rafe pulling his fingers out of you.
“Rafe! What the fuck! I was about to cum!” You push yourself up on your hands so you can glare at him in the mirror. He smirks back at you, taking the fingers that were inside you into his mouth with a groan.
“That’s what you get for acting like a fucking brat. Besides, if you’re gonna cum, it’s gonna be on my fuckin’ cock.” He pushes you back down by the back of your head, smushing your cheek against the counter. He lines his cock up with your entrance, fully inserting himself inside you in one thrust. “Oh shiiiit, you’re so fuckin’ tight bunny. Always knew you would be.”
“Oh my goddddd.” Your eyes roll back and drool drips down the corner of your mouth onto the marble from the way he has your cheeks pressed together with his hand. He’s huge and the stretch burns so good.
“Yeah, that’s a good little slut, take this fuckin’ dick baby.” His hand travels down your back, gripping your ass harshly before gripping onto your hips. He’s fucking you so hard the sound of your hips slapping together echoes through the large bathroom and his balls are hitting your clit with every thrust. “Your little pouge still the best dick you ever had?”
“N - no, you’re the best I’ve ever had daddy, you’re filling me up so good, feels so good.” Rafe reaches into his back pocket for your phone, using his other hand to pull your ass apart for the perfect view of his cock buried deep inside you.
“I think we should show him how good I make you feel, baby. Show him you really are my girl. From now on the only slutty pictures of you are either going to be taken for me or by me, got it?”
“Yes daddy, I got it. I’m yours, only yours.” He snaps a few photos before setting the phone down on the counter. He grabs onto the back of your neck, pulling your head up so you can see in the mirror.
“Look at yourself, look at what a little slut you are for my cock. Is that fucking drool?” He laughs condescendingly, a smug smirk spread across his lips.
You look at yourself in the mirror, your makeup is running down your cheeks, your hair is a disaster from how Rafe had been tugging on it, and there was in fact, drool dripping down your chin to your chest. Your eyes travel up to Rafe and you feel like you’re going to cum right then and there. His hair is hanging in his eyes slightly but you can see them enough that the look he gives you in the mirror makes your head spin. His toned chest is covered in a thin layer of sweat and the feral moans leaving him are your new favorite sound. His hand grabs onto the front of your throat, pulling you up so your back is against his chest. The new angel has him hitting deeper and you feel that coil in your belly starting to wind up again.
“Fuck daddy, I’m gonna cum, feels so good, please let me cum.” You reach behind you, threading your fingers into his hair while you push your hips back against his.
“Look who can be a good girl after all, asking me to cum without me even having to tell you? That’s such a good little bunny. Go on then, cum for daddy.” His fingers find your clit and it sends you over the edge, your walls tightening around him. “That’s it, fuckin’ cum on my cock.”
He fucks you through it before chasing his own high. Pushing you back down on the counter by your lower back, he grips onto your hips, and drills into you harder than ever.
“This is the best pussy I’ve ever had, this is my fucking pussy, you’re mine. I’m gonna fill you up so full of my cum you’re going to have to walk out of this party with it dripping down your legs.”
“Fuck yes daddy, fucking fill me up, please? Want your cum.” The sound of you begging for his release does him in. Just a few more rough thrusts and he’s pushing his hips flush against your own, pumping his cum deep inside of you. He pulls out and grabs onto your asscheeks, pulling them apart so some of the cum would seep out.
“Don’t fucking move.” He grabs your phone off the counter and takes a few shots of your puffy pussy dripping with his cum. “Good girl.”
He grabs onto your shoulders, pulling you up and flipping you towards him in one swift motion. He grips your face in his hands, kissing you rough and wet and possessively. He pulls away and tucks himself back into his shorts before looking at your phone again, he goes into your texts with Jj and selects the photos he just took, typing out a message and hitting send with a satisfied smirk on his face.
“Told you she was my girl.”
#rafe cameron#rafe x reader#rafe obx#rafe imagine#rafe smut#rafe fanfiction#rafe fic#rafe cameron x reader#rafe x you#rafe outer banks#Dolly writes
837 notes
·
View notes
Text
Game On
(one of my favorite clips, lowkey)
Jasper X Reader
Summary: A little snippet of wolf!reader playing baseball with the Cullens. You and Emmett have a little rivalry going, and you'll do anything for some Jasper scratches.
Word Count: 1021
---
“You sure you can keep up with us, wolfie?” Emmet calls from the batter’s box with an absolutely snarky grin.
You cock a brow at him, settling into a crouch with an equally vicious smile, “Just you watch me, Em, you won’t make it to first base.”
“I’d like to see that,” he taunts back, twisting his grip on the bat and posing it over his shoulder.
Jasper chuckles from across the field, the sound easily reaching your sensitive ears, “Take it easy on him, darlin’.”
“No can do, Jas.” Your friendly rivalry with Emmett started as soon as you and Jasper got together, only made worse by you being a shifter. Competitiveness runs deep in your blood. “Someone has to put him in his place, and you pansies sure aren’t going to.”
“Ooh-” Emmett hisses through his teeth dramatically. “-you gonna let her talk to you like that?”
“I’m not one to get offended by a few words,” Jasper shoots back, smirk all too cocky, “Not like when you whined a full week when she called you a cream puff.”
“Hey-”
“It’s time!” Alice chimes before Emmett can stand up for himself.
You snicker and he throws a glare your way.
Game on.
With your enhanced speed and strength, you put up a good fight against the vampires. It’s almost unfair, you and Jasper working perfectly in sync, getting them out one at a time. On your turn to bat, the feeling of smashing the ball, brutal and unrestrained, makes your whole body spark to life, driving you through the plates like a flash of lightning. It’s exhilarating.
Nearing the end of the thunderstorm, the game is close, your team up by one run. Emmett is back up to bat. Chest heaving, heart pounding, you make eye contact with him and, with the most wolfish smile, mouth a silent, ‘Bring it.’
Emmett scowls, eyes focusing back on Alice, and you hear Jasper chuckle softly.
Alice winds up, moving with practiced ease, and launches the baseball straight down the line. A crack of thunder overlaps the loud ring of the bat slamming into it, and it goes flying. You go flying after it.
You tear through the trees, eyes bright with glee as you follow the ball. The wind whips your hair around wildly, the damp ground giving way under your feet. You feel free. Out of breath, every muscle aching, but free. The moment right before your feet leave the ground, adrenaline surges through every cell of your body and you explode into a mess of fur and snapping teeth.
You jump, far too high, far too fast. But your teeth clamp down on the baseball, practically ripping through the leather, before you go crashing to the ground in a flurry of dirt and grass. The earth shakes at your impact, the sound louder than the storm’s thunder.
“(Y/n)!”
The family of vampires freeze, eyes wide. Jasper races after you. Worry burns through his veins as he comes to a stop at the crater’s edge. Gold eyes narrowed, he desperately searches through the haze of dirt for a sign that you’re okay.
Then you pop back up, and all his concern dissipates. You, in wolf form, look up at him with happy, squinted eyes, the ball still clamped firmly in your jaws. Your whole body practically shakes with how hard your tail is wagging.
“Well look at you,” the blond sighs, shaking his head, “I didn’t know wolves could fly, darlin’.”
Shaking off the dirt clinging to your fur, you scramble out of the hole you created. Without hesitation, you push into Jasper’s open arms. He chuckles as you wiggle in his grip, letting out little happy huffs as he scratches your head. You love it when he gives you scratches in wolf form, it’s like getting a massage in human form.
“You know-” You perk your ears and pause to look up at his slanted, mischievous grin. “-Emmett won’t like this.”
You let out a muffled ‘woof’. He better not like it, because he just signed his defeat. You won. The thought makes you growl happily as you adjust the ball in your mouth. Time to show off your victory.
Jasper sticks by your side and you trot back to the field. The moment you reach the tree line, Emmett lets out a loud, rumbling groan.
“That has to be cheating!”
“Umpire?”
Everyone turns to Esme. Emmett looks so hopeful, but then she looks at you and winks. You’ve never been so happy to see someone’s face plummet.
“You’re out, Emmett.”
You drop the ball and let out a small victorious howl. The man glares at you playfully, but you catch the smallest glimpse of a smile when you do a few happy stomps and throw yourself at Jasper. The blond grunts as your full weight takes you both to the ground.
“Darlin’,” he wheezes out a bright laugh, “you’re crushing me.”
You huff, not caring even a bit as you drop your head on top of his chest. More scratches. You deserve more scratches, you won the game! Jasper can feel your insistence, having grown accustomed to reading your more chaotic emotions in this form, and gives in when you nudge him with your nose, licking his face. He curls his fingers through your thick fur, earning a happy grumble from you.
“We’re going to head back to the house,” Carlisle announces, voice ringing with amusement, “Feel free to join us when you would like to.”
Which ends up being far later in the night because there is something so lovely about just curling up with your vampire and watching the stars come out. He eventually goes and retrieves your extra clothes (he started keeping some with him after several phasing accidents) and you return to the Cullen household, where you mercilessly mock Emmett.
“How does it feel to lose to a wolf, cream puff?”
“(Y/n), I swear to God I’m gonna-”
You dash up the stairs, giggling wildly. Jasper follows behind slowly, tossing the bigger vampire a smug grin.
“Next time, you shouldn’t underestimate her.”
---
This idea came to me at like midnight and I wrote down the idea and I love it. I hope you guys enjoyed it too!
#reader insert#x reader#reader#jasper hale#jasper whitlock#twilight saga#twilight#jasper hale x reader#jasper whitlock x reader#jasper x reader#wolf reader#baseball scene#wrote this listening to super massive blackhole
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
girl dad aaron AMUSEMENT PARK EDITION!!!!!!!
he would spend all his money at the ring toss just to get his girl the prize she wants. he would hold her hand on the swings. he would give into her begging to go on the big drop ride. he would ride in her bumper car, whispering, “c’mon. let’s bump into mommy. it’ll be funny.” he would make sure to smear her in sunscreen. he would let her wear his sunglasses. he would buy her dippin dots and funnel cakes and cotton candy. he would carry her on his shoulders. he would get wet on the water rides with her. he would guarantee they get to sit in the back or front carts (it’s only appropriate to sit in the front on some rides. other rides, it’s only appropriate to sit in the back. he would know which ride requires the back seat and which requires the front because he’s asked around because he wants his girl to have the best experience on the rollercoasters she can.) he would pack so much water to make sure everyone stays hydrated (he’s also got a fanny pack. i don’t make the rules.) he would pose for the cameras with her on the rides (silly faces, bunny ears, kissing her cheek, etc.) and he would obviously buy them and hang them on the fridge until the entire fridge is covered in them!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
aw aw awwww are you trying to make me cry?????? 😭💞💞💞
baby girl's his ride buddy of the day 🥹🥹🥹 it works out perfectly too. i feel like aaron's not too keen on rides - he gets nauseous easily and can only take so much 😭 whereas you're still okay - so you'll go on the more extreme rides with jack. as the two of you are doing that, aaron's on the more tame rides with baby girl, or standing on the sidelines with her in his arms, pointing out you and jack on the ride 🥰 and for the kiddie rides that don't fit an adult, jack happily goes on those with her hehe <3333 best big brother
aaron's hand is always in hers, she's in his arms, or in a stroller, just always accounted for. he's terrified she'll somehow wander away (although she knows not to) or he knows how easily someone could come swoop her up and take her far away (mosley lane 😭😭😭😭) and STOP the visual of her on his shoulders, in his sunglasses that are far too big for her, gripping onto his hair or his head as she chatters away - pointing out what she sees, what rides she wants to go on, what snacks smell yummy, or simply talking about anything <3333 sobbing
when it comes to the prizes, aaron's definitely paying way more than what that item probably cost to make, and knows it's 'lowkey' a waste of money 😭 but there's no price when it comes to baby girl's happiness, he'll do whatever it takes 🥰 the smile that forms on her face when she finally gets the plushie she wanted??? priceless and it's a memory they'll both hold onto forever - aaron takes full advantage of those type of memories 🥺
the bumper cars!!!!!!!!!!! the true highlight of the day 😭 aaron's with baby girl, you're with jack. hehe you peer over as aaron's sneakily whispering to her and eyeing the two of you👀, you know what he's scheming and tell jack the very same thing 🤭 "we gotta get dad and your sister". the laughs that erupt from both of them as they bump into each other 😭😭😭😭 it's contagious, you and aaron are equally as giddy and are loving every second of it 🥰 they even both insist on riding multiple times just to crash into each other LOL
and omg aaron's prepared and stacked for every scenario possible. extra clothes, shoes, socks are in the car (for each family member) for after the water rides. he packs dramamine, ibruprofen, bug spray. he also strategically plans out when to eat snacks or food - to prevent upset stomachs after eating and going on rides 🥴 he brings a tonnn of sunscreen and applies frequently. omg the four of you are pulled off to the side, drinking water and taking a break - you unscrew the top of a water bottle for jack, simply turn your head, and are met with aaron's hands on your face - applying sunscreen generously for you too 😭😭😭🫶🏻 he also brought hats for extra coverage - jack has a baseball cap, baby girl has a cute lil bucket hat 🥰
and AWWW the pictures 🥹🥹🥹 aaron's sure to get multiples too - one for the fridge, for baby girl's room (a pic of them on her bedside table 😭😭😭😭 especially useful when she misses him when he's gone on a case and she just wants her daddy🥺) and his office 😭<3333
as the four of you leave the amusement park when night falls, baby girl is absolutely zonked 😭 her face is smushed into aaron's neck, arms around his neck, maybe even drooling a bit, completely out. hehe so aaron veryyyy carefully places her into her carseat as to not wake her up 🥹 ugh she had the best day <333
#let's talk aaron <333333#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner imagine#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds#criminal minds imagine
276 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖗𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖈𝖆𝖌𝖊𝖘
𝔞 𝔰𝔬𝔞𝔭 𝔪𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔞𝔳𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯 𝔰𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰
𝖕𝖙 3 — 𝖕𝖙 2 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊
wc - 7.2k
warnings - 18+/nsfw, dom sub dynamic, hints of petplay, mild public play
notes - part 3 kind of ran away from me, if you can't tell from the word count!! i had a lot of fun with this one, so i hope you enjoy! also on ao3! ♥
Life was teaching you early on in this budding relationship that life without Johnny drags.
The first day or two he was gone wasn't so bad. Before he'd even left the country, he'd sent you an incredibly drool-worthy photo of him in his fatigues. You've spent more time looking at it over the past week or so than you probably should've—fixated on the size of his arms, the confident pose, and the mic set around his neck.
The sight of that alone sent your thoughts reeling—and was the part you'd zoomed into on the most, beside Johnny's handsome face.
Then came the voice note, the one you've been listening to on repeat—addicted to Johnny's words and voice. Finally, you have it captured to listen back to on demand. He'd sent you other voice notes since, shorter ones with "I'm thinking about you." or "Just met a street cat, his collar said his name is Halim!" with a photo accompanying it.
Those made your heart sing, and your smile wide, but the last one he sent was him explaining he'd be going dark, and he'd message again whenever he could.
That had been over a week ago now, and the radio silence left your nerves on edge, frayed and tested as you waited for any sign.
Some sense of salvation had come in the form of an after-work drinking session that turned into a full-blown night out—it was a welcome distraction and an oasis of general socialisation after your desert of solitude.
You were dressed up nice, getting a little tipsy and dancing the night away—only checking your phone as you pulled it out to pay for a drink.
The missed call notification has you rushing to down the drink, so you can head out the back of the club. As soon as the pounding music fades away, you're pressing the phone to your ear and listening to the dial—it feeling tortuously slow as you wait for Johnny to pick up with every ring. Just before it goes to voicemail, his voice is blessing your ears once more.
"Hey, pretty girl." He greets, his voice seemingly as bright as always.
"Johnny!" You all but squeal in excitement, a heady combination of missing him and the effects of the alcohol making your enthusiasm bubble over.
He laughs, slow and sweet, as warmth spreads through your chest. "Missed me that much, aye?"
You missed him far too much considering the current state of your relationship, but even in your intoxicated state, you know to keep that mostly to yourself. "Missed you so much!" You giggle, moving further away from the door as a group of people join you out back—cigarettes hanging from their fingers.
"Missed you too. Where are yer?" Johnny asks, clearly hearing the commotion in the background.
"I'm out with some people from work, but I'll go home right now, I swear—"
Johnny cuts you off before you can even finish your offer. "Don't you dare, lass, enjoy your night. I just wanted to let you know I'm back, tha's all."
Hearing from him was such a relief, and you are so glad he called—though now you don't want to stop talking again. "Does that mean we can meet soon?" You ask—voice light, flirtatious, and most importantly hopeful.
"I was thinking Sunday if that works for yer?"
"Making me wait again, Sergeant?" You practically twirl your hair around your finger as you tease him, smiling unreservedly as you hold the phone to your ear.
"Keep talking like tha' and I'll come down there right now." His growl is playful, but you can tell using his rank has some sort of effect on him.
You pull your lip between your teeth, giggling once more and flushing with need. "Do it, I dare you." You taunt.
Johnny's sigh is a little defeated, his tone a little tired and flat compared to usual."I cannae, still got things to wrap up. Tha's why I said Sunday and not tomorrow, sweet thing."
You relent with your joking, not wanting to keep up with teasing when Johnny seems a little... low. "You're worth the wait." You whisper into the phone, soft and sincere—you hope that makes him smile at least.
"We'll sort out the details tomorrow, yeah?"
You nod, even though he can't see it. "Sounds good."
He perks up a little bit, even if it sounds somewhat forced. "Feel like doing me a favour before you get back to yer friends?"
"Anything." Your answer is instant, especially if it would cheer him up right now. Coming back from the things he must see has to be hard, and you can't blame him for continuing to be affected by it. Is that why he needed an extra day? To decompress and adjust back to being Johnny instead of a sergeant in the army?
"Send me a picture of your outfit." The sentence lands somewhere between a question and a command—though you had every intention of complying anyway.
"Yes sir." You answer instinctually, not putting too much thought into it until you hear Johnny's growl in response. The kind of growl that ignites something deep within you every time you hear it.
His voice is low, rumbling down the phone with a hint of playful warning. "Bonnie..."
"Sorry." You laugh lightly, before turning more sincere. "I'm glad you're safe, Johnny."
The line is silent for a moment, just long enough for you to worry you've said the wrong thing, but as always, Johnny washes away your doubt. "I'm glad you waited for me."
"Of course." A shiver passes over you, the night air making you want to retreat back inside. You wrap an arm around yourself as you brace yourself from the cold. "Talk tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow, for definite. Have a nice night, angel." His wish is sincere, the softness in his voice something you'll replay over and over again.
"Night, Johnny."
You wait for him to end the call before you rush back into the club, beelining straight for the bathroom to snap a picture just for Johnny. The dress isn't your usual clubbing outfit, having come straight from work, but you look cute, and you feel confident as you send the picture straight to Johnny.
The next day drags even more than the last few have, especially with the mild hangover thundering your skull. Every part of the day is just about going through the motions, getting through it, so you're one minute closer to seeing Johnny. Every moment is a little dull, until you find yourself waiting for him at the exit of the train station.
The excitement and the nerves wage war inside you—with each passing second, you're getting closer and closer to being swept up in Johnny's arms, to hopefully feeling like you're finally home. But with each second, you're inching closer to vulnerability, to risk, to the possibility that somehow he might decide after today that he never wants to see you again.
Maybe he'll look at you and realise he doesn't quite like your body, or the way your mouth moves when you talk. Maybe he'll hate your mannerisms, or find that in person you're actually really boring to talk to. Perhaps he'll just know within moments of meeting you that you'll never be his home, never be his.
The thought is terrifying, crawling around the back of your mind as you scan every passing face in the hopes of seeing the silly little mohawk you long to run your fingers through.
And when you do, the world stills.
You spot him before he spots you, and you get a moment to appreciate his searching gaze, his quietly confident swagger, the way his denim jacket stretches over his shoulders, and his shirt clings to his stomach.
In short, he's a vision. All man—big and strong and beautiful. It takes everything within you to not launch yourself into his arms as soon as he gets close.
He continues to look around as he makes his way through the ticket barriers, glancing between the crowds and his phone as he makes his way closer and closer. You emerge from your hidden spot, your legs carrying you without hesitation over to him—and when your eyes meet, you both stop completely still for just a moment. Nothing but wide smiles on your faces and a magnetic pull that draws you together.
The bodies in between you are a hindrance, a barrier you both need to be gone as you weave through them before finally standing before each other—and at that moment everything feels right.
"Wow." Johnny says as he looks you up and down and drinks all of you in.
"Wow yourself." You giggle, checking him out just the same and adjusting to just how much more handsome he is in person—as if such a thing were possible.
"Hi Johnny." Even you are surprised by how breathless you sound, but it makes perfect sense when you consider how fast your heart is beating, how your hands are starting to shake.
"Think I must be dreamin'" He blinks in disbelief, unable to keep the radiant, infectious smile off of his face.
You blush deeply, and find you can no longer meet the intensity of his eyes. "Flatterer." Your word is a whisper as you push yourself to your tip toes and wrap your arms around Johnny's neck, pulling him in for a hug.
His strong arms wrap around your waist, holding you close, tightly enveloping you in a serene feeling of safety, as well as his fresh, masculine scent.
Home. You think it's the closest you ever felt to it, bundled up in his arms as he cradles you like you're the most precious thing on earth to him.
His hands roam over your back, caressing you so delicately and savouring every bit of you, as your own hands thread around the back of his neck, and you sink your fingers in, grasping him to ground yourself in the moment. It's real, he's real, and being in his arms feels so right it almost hurts.
"You're even more gorgeous in person, bonnie." He whispers in your ear, breath hot and sending shivers all over your body. Thank god he's holding you upright, as your entire being is so vulnerable right now to every sensation.
He pulls away slightly, but keeps you close, his eyes returning to yours once more, looking at you like you're everything.
"I could say the same about you." You giggle, feeling self-conscious beyond belief. "Your eyes..." They're so blue, two oceanic pools of deep emotion, pulling you under the longer you stare.
Everything you feel is reflected in his eyes—hope, bliss, excitement.
"Grew them maself." He laughs, his nose wrinkling as he laughs at his own silly joke.
He has you captivated entirely, as you drink in every single feature on his face—the strong brows, the scar on his lips, the dimples hidden behind his stubble. Every detail makes your heart thump against your rib cage, makes you want to reach out and trace your fingers over every little thing you discover.
You're snapped out of your reverie when someone's bag brushes past you, and you remember you're in the middle of a train station, blocking people's way.
"We should move out of the way."
"Aye." He nods, slipping an arm around you so as to not lose contact as the two of you shuffle out of the path of the commuters. "Fuck. Am not letting you go now."
His grip tightens around you as he pulls you in once more, hands settling on your waist as he stares down in adoration.
"Good." You can't help the smile on your face, so big and bright your cheeks hurt from how unwavering it is—that's just the feeling Johnny inspires.
This time, it's him who seems affected by your gaze, as he averts his eyes from yours. "'s a bit weird, though." He admits, a strange shyness to his tone.
Nothing about Johnny right now would suggest he's anything even close to nervous or uncomfortable, but you figure a man like him is very good at masking how he really feels. Your hands slip to his chest, your thumbs rubbing soothingly back and forth as you try to project a sense of calm to soothe you both.
"Have you never done this before?" You ask, curiosity brimming but with no underlying judgement.
"No." His cheeks begin to redden as he glances at you briefly, a rare display of shyness from the seemingly endlessly confident man. "Don't laugh, it's ma first time."
You continue your soothing gesture as you speak from the heart.
"I wouldn't laugh! I have done this before, and I'm still so fucking nervous." Said nervousness escapes you in the form of a clipped laugh. "... If it wasn't obvious from the blushing and shaking."
Johnny made you nervous, and yet peaceful all at the same time. His pull was irresistible, concrete, even if you stumbled to him on shaky legs. You knew what he might be feeling right now, if his heart was anything like yours.
"Oh, am sweatin' a tonne right now, if ya cannae tell." His laugh and smile are almost disgustingly sweet, along with his unbracing honesty. Johnny really is something else, you think.
You step away from him, intertwining your fingers into his much larger hand, as you start to lead the way out of the train station. "Better get you out into the fresh air then."
The two of you walk in comfortable silence across the short distance until you're hit with the sun's warmth and a blast of cooler air. You start walking into the city centre, aiming to wander around for a little to kill time.
As you walk, Johnny's grip tightens, and his hips sway playfully into your own, nudging you only to pull you back to his side with a bright grin on his face. "Meant what I said about not letting go of yer hand."
"Keep it, it's yours." You squeeze back, looking up at Johnny to see him observing his surroundings keenly—must be a soldier thing, you muse. "Do you come here much?"
"A little. Usually kept pretty busy back on base." He answers, glancing at you before taking in more of the area.
"Well, I guess you'll be getting familiar." You nudge his hips, returning his earlier playfulness as you flirt with him unashamedly.
His eyes are fixed on you now—a brow raised and a mirthful smile on his face at your assumption.
"Oh, will a now?"
"I hope so." You admit sincerely, feeling the heat in your cheeks. If you keep smiling as much as you have so far, the expression will be permanently etched onto your face. "But that'll be more, so after we see the kitties. Our slots in 20 minutes, right?"
"Aye, you excited?" He looks at you as if to confirm your true reaction, his eyes searching.
"I am, honestly I was expecting just a normal coffee date but as soon as you suggested it, I couldn't let it go." You're practically rambling, but honestly, Johnny's suggestion was perfect. First, it let you know he enjoyed, or at least was at ease around cats, which was always a green flag. Plus, it was something different, catered to the two of you that shows he'd been thinking about it, and who wouldn't swoon at that?
And on the off chance there was an awkward silence where you didn't know what to do, at least you had furry friends for you both to pay attention to.
His eyes flicker with doubt for a moment, before he masks it with a distracting smile. "Was worried it might be a bit naff."
If only he knew how much you had been freaking out about how cute you found the whole thing—and the fact that he might as well have just straight up said it was the beginning of your new dynamic together. You'd be his pet, the whole thing made perfect sense. "If it is naff, it'll only be because I might get jealous."
"Ach, why?" He asks, seemingly finding the idea of you needing to ever feel such a thing ridiculous.
You look up at him with soft, pleading eyes and a playful pout on your lips. "Well, you'll be giving all the cats head pats, but will you have any for me?" Even the tone of your voice is designed to tug at his heartstrings, slipping into your role so naturally.
"I'll always have some for you, kitty." He laughs, letting go of your hand just to ruffle at your hair until you playfully shove him away—then he's grasping at you again, not wanting to relinquish contact for even a second.
"Besides, they get to wear collars and flaunt it right in front of me. Don't they know what they're doing?" A suggestive smirk is directed at him, which he eagerly returns.
"Oh, you'll be in one before you know it, bonnie." He drops this news so casually, like it's the most natural thing in the world— as if the two of you are just having a regular conversation "We'll come again, make them jealous right back."
You swallow thickly, already aching for that eventuality—even if it may be a ways away.
"Sounds like a date." You mumble, filled with shyness and need. Coughing, you take a moment to compose yourself and steer the conversation away from something that will send your thoughts spiraling. "I did look through the website to see what kind of cats they had, and there's a cat with your name, different spelling though."
Johnny pulls you closer, head dipping slightly to talk close to your ear, his tone dropping to a dangerous low. "Now I'm gonnae be the jealous one."
His words make you shiver, make it difficult to keep walking like everything is fine—but you can flirt just like he can. You look up at him, fluttering your eyelashes prettily as you smile so sweetly. "I've only got eyes for one Johnny, don't worry."
The blush that rises to his cheeks tells you that your act had the desired effect.
"That's what I like tae hear." He mumbles, squeezing your hand in an affectionate gesture.
After wandering the high street for a short while and just enjoying each other's company, you circle back to your destination. The two of you enter the café, kick off your shoes (or boots for Johnny), and are seated at a table toward the back of the room— just a little out of sight from everyone else. You order a tea, while Johnny orders a flavoured coffee, giving you an insight into his tastes and preferences that makes you smile.
You remind yourself to keep that information in mind for later, filing it away under your list of things about Johnny that you're sure will only expand throughout the day.
When the server leaves the table, the two of you look upon each other fondly—shy smiles and burning cheeks. There are so many words at the tip of your tongue, so many things you want to say and ask and know about the man before you—as your brain buzzes with energy, so do your hands, feeling a little lost now they're no longer connected to any part of his body.
It's easy to tell that Johnny sees more than he lets on, as he observes you before him and seemingly filters through your thoughts.
You return the favour and watch Johnny intently—eyes fixated as his tongue darts out to wet his lips, as his throat bobs as he swallows, and your brain is invaded with a deluge of inappropriate thoughts.
Luckily, you're saved by the bell—a little tinkling noise from a cat beside you as it walks on by and demands your attention with a haughty meow.
"Look, there's Jonny!" You gasp quietly, the cat just a few feet away staring at you curiously. Taking it slow, you lower your hand to the ground and make no move toward the cat, waiting for it to get a smell and a feel for you. It isn't long before the cat in question is launching himself into your lap, drawing delighted laughs from both you and Johnny.
You run your fingers through the thick fur of the white longhair, figuring out what spots the cat likes most.
"He likes you." Johnny comments with amusement, shuffling ever so slightly closer until your thighs touch—his arm slips around the booth seat behind you as he settles in.
Your eyes meet his, your skin prickling with the intensity of his closeness. "Hopefully like the human version."
"Definitely." The arm around the back of the seat comes to settle on your shoulders, as Johnny slowly moves his hand over to the cat and lets him sniff his fingers. Johnny's eyes brighten unmistakably when the feline nuzzles against his hand, and then he breaks out into a mischievous grin. "D'ya think he's cuter than me?"
Johnny tilts his head to the side, almost puppylike as he preens at your attention—your eyes roaming over him as if you're making a difficult choice.
"Hmm. He has a lot more hair than you do, but I think you win." You give cat Jonny another stroke, while you smile at human Johnny with glee. "I'll have to feel how soft your hair is to make a real decision, though."
You say it mostly as a joke, but Johnny looks sincere as he urges you to do it. "Go on."
You raise your hand, panic flowing through you as you hesitate for a moment—your fingers hovering inches away from Johnny's head. He leans into your touch, as you stroke through the short tufts of hair. "It's... so soft." You admit, pulling away quickly before you get carried away.
"What did yer think it was gonna feel like?" Johnny asks with a barked laugh that you can't help but return.
You crinkle your nose, because honestly, with the fact he clearly uses styling products to make his mohawk stand on end, you hadn't expected it to feel as soft and pleasant as it did. "I don't know, I can't imagine you have premium shampoo and conditioner in the army."
"They're just naturally luscious locks, dinnae what to tell yer." He swishes his head playfully, as if he's flipping a head full of hair.
"Effortlessly flawless, just like the rest of you." You tease him, joining in the joking.
"Oh aye?" He asks with a wink, playfully fishing for more compliments.
Not that he needs to fish, you think. Surely Johnny knows how handsome he is, and even before meeting him, you've gushed over his good looks.
Still, you look upon him with genuine admiration and rapidly unfolding infatuation, you're exalting words tumbling freely from you without much thought. "You're just so... gorgeous, godlike, really."
"As are you, bonnie. Cannae believe it." The look in his eyes is so real, so intense it makes your heart twinge, and leaves no room for you to doubt the sincerity of his words.
The two of you continue to stare into each other's eyes, enjoying the silent conversation that seems to pass between the two of you—the unspoken desire and adoration.
"Are we just gonna spend the day staring at each other?" You giggle, breaking the moment when it becomes a little bit too intense for you.
"Wouldnae be such a bad thing." Johnny replies swiftly, ever so smoothly.
Jonny the cat takes that moment to crawl off your lap, rubbing himself along Johnny as he all but demands pets from the man. Johnny indulges him instantly, large fingers scratching at that perfect point between the kitty's ears. Watching it shouldn't make you blush as much as it does.
"I think he likes you too."
Johnny nods, a serious look on his face. "He knows we're chums."
"You must give really good head pats." You tease, wishing you could take the words back as soon as you said them. Was saying such a thing too much too soon? Was it too early to start to invoke elements of your potential future dynamic?
Johnny meets your eye, his lips curling into a smirk as his eyes turn mischievous. "Wanna find out?"
"Of course." Your response is instant, breathless—already offering yourself up to the man before you. You quickly remember your manners. "Please."
Johnny lets the cat on his lap jump down before he turns his attention to you fully, his hand settling on top of your head as he gently, carefully caresses you. Your body is quickly overwhelmed with shivers, an electric sensation coursing through you as his fingers dip deeper into your hair, massaging at the back of your neck until your eyes start to slip shut from the sheer bliss.
They shoot back open when his fingers dip the chain on your neck, tugging sharply enough to get your attention without putting any real force behind it.
He leans in as if to share a secret, his smirk wolfish as you continue to react so perfectly to his touch. "Nice choker, by the way, pet."
"Wore it just for you." You whisper, words weak as you tremble with so much need for Johnny.
He's pulling back, taking all his warmth with you, before he strokes through your hair one more time. "That's my girl."
You could burst into flames right now, or simply melt under the intensity of his gaze. Not even an hour into date one, and you can already feel how wet this man has made you, how much he makes your heart call out to him. Your body and soul burn with need, already wanting more of him in every way.
"Fuck." You sigh in frustration, burying your head into his shoulder to hide your aroused expression. "I hate that there's so many people around right now."
"Feeling naughty?" He chuckles in such a knowing way, because he knows exactly what he's doing and how you feel about it.
You meet his gaze, eyes desperate and pleading for mercy. "Johnny, I feel drunk and mindless already and you haven't even actually done anything."
He moves one of your hands from your thigh to his, holding onto it for a moment. He won't offer you mercy, but he will at least let you see how you make him feel too. "Can I borrow your hand?"
"Why?" You ask reflexively, before your thoughts catch up to you. Oh. Oh!"
You allow him to move your hand further up his thigh until your fingers graze over the hardness in his jeans, and you have to stifle your gasp with your other hand.
"Why am letting the cats come to me insteada the other way around." He whispers, voice gravelly and strained.
The feelings both his words and his body inspire in you are dangerous, causing you to act as you palm at his cock through his jeans, listening to the hitches in his breath as you begin to stroke and caress. He's rock solid, all before you even laid a hand on him, and it's addicting to you that he's clearly in just as deep as you are—that he sees all this as you do.
His hand moves to grab at your wrist, warning but not painful. "Ach, quit it." He groans, now on the receiving end of such wonderful torture.
"You started it." You whine, taking the chance to grasp him one more time before you stop your teasing. "Johnny you're fucking huge."
Already your head spins just contemplating it, but Johnny only adds to your delirium.
"Wait until it's stuffin' yer little cunt full." He purrs, lips brushing against your skin as he does, and you have to resist the urge to moan aloud.
You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to pull away from Johnny as you slip out of the booth. "Okay, I need a breather, join me at the cat tree when you've... calmed down."
His smile is devilish, as he watches you go, content to spectate from afar as you coo over the kittens until he can join you.
Your time at the café passes quicker than either of you would have liked, and when it's time for you to vacate your table, the server approaches once more with a bill for the teas and coffees you had enjoyed.
"Will you be paying together or separately?" They ask, which causes you to glance at Johnny questioningly.
You'd already, in your mind, prepared yourself to offer one or both halves of the bill.
Johnny speaks before you can. "Together." He insists, reaching for his wallet and offering his card to the server—not allowing any room for argument.
You stay silent until the transaction is complete and the two of you are alone again, before you decide to address it. "Johnny... I would've paid."
He shakes his head, flipping his wallet shut as he slips it into his back pocket. "Don't be ridiculous."
You open your mouth to offer further protest, but his brows quirks as he almost challenges you to say another word.
Accepting defeat, you smile graciously and sincerely. "Thank you."
"My ma would pitch a fit if she found out I let yer pay." He continues to wave it off like it's nothing. "Let me spoil yer, aye? You'll hafta get used to it anyway. Okay, kitty?"
You're not sure if it's the idea of him spoiling you or the nickname that makes you shiver the most, but the combination of both makes your head spin.
"I better start thinking of ways to repay you." You joke, throwing him a flirtatious wink as your hand snakes under his jacket to stroke at his chest.
Johnny pulls back, face flashing with a realisation and a bright grin. "Oh, before I forget."
You watch him, just a touch confused, as he reaches into his jacket and pulls out a small, patterned paper bag—he hands it straight to you. "Got yer a little somethin'"
"Johnny..." You groan playfully, having not expected a gift, or having brought anything for him either.
"It's nothin', promise." He smiles, encouraging you to open it.
You peel open the paper bag to find a handmade, woven bracelet inside—one you've seen in countless stalls across your life, but the sight doesn't fail to make your heart sing.
"Oh my god, a friendship bracelet?" Your delighted gasp is genuine, as you feel touched by the gesture.
"Needed to buy something at a souvenir shop. Y'know blend in, look like a tourist." He shrugs casually. "Thought of you."
"I love it, thank you." You clutch it to your chest, genuinely so pleased. "Did you get yourself one?"
"No?" Johnny plucks the bracelet from you, as he takes hold of your wrist and gets to tying the threads together.
You pout, half joking and half serious, as you realise you won't be matching. "Wow, guess we're not friends then."
"Puppy." His tone is warning and serious, drawing your attention to him so obediently.
You swallow, nerves flooding through you. "Yeah?"
His eyes never waver from yours, the sincerity within making you tremble. "The things I'll do to yer, friends don't do tae each other, yeah?" His low tone and the lack of a playful smile make you clench.
"Understood." You nod dumbly, too awestruck and aroused to give him a real response.
"Good girl." He grins, patting your wrist with the bracelet now attached. "Ready to go?"
"Yeah..."
He takes your hand in his once more, leading you back to the entrance to collect your shoes before you make it back onto the street. All the while, you turn his words over in your head, desperately holding on to the soaring feeling in your chest and the pit of arousal deep inside you. The effect he has on you is downright vicious.
"Where to now?" He asks, waiting for you to lead him around the city.
The cooler air of the street helps calm you down, as you steer your thoughts back to more appropriate things.
"I was thinking we could just walk around, window-shop. Maybe grab some dinner? When have I got you til?"
"Last train is at 9."
You sigh wistfully, already dreading the moment he has to feel. "Doesn't feel like long enough."
"You'll be sick of me by then, lass." He chuckles, his smile still making you feel as full as it did the first time you saw it.
"Not if you're sick of me first."
The two of you take in the city streets hand in hand for a little while, wandering around the shops and chatting about anything and everything. The conversation comes just as easy as it always does, and before long the two of you head for something to eat and drink at a nearby pub.
The atmosphere is cosy as the two of you tuck yourselves away at a table in the corner, order your food and drinks and get to chatting once more. You've already teased Johnny for ordering another coffee along with his meal, while he needled you for ordering several side dishes instead of a main.
Both of you are excited to tuck in when the food arrives, and your conversation turns to getting to know more about the other.
"So, what can you tell me about work?" You ask, finally feeling brave enough to broach the subject. Johnny's work will come with a lot of complications, you already know that, and one of them is likely that he will have to be careful about the things he shares. That doesn't stop your curiosity, though.
"What d'ya wanna know?" He responds, open and earnest, as he dips a chip into his sauce.
You think for a moment, trying to conjure up your most pertinent questions. "Who do you work with?"
Johnny swallows his food before wiping his hands on his napkin and pulling out his fun. He turns it to you when he brings up a photo, zoomed in on an older man in tactical gear.
"Well, first there's the Captain, Price. Best captain we could ask for." He comments, looking to you for your response.
Something in the Captain's eyes tells you he's dependable, and you can hear the respect he holds from Johnny's voice.
"Interesting facial hair." You giggle, referencing the grown-out mutton chops that surprisingly suit him.
Johnny laughs, nodding in agreement. "Oh aye, a right character he is." He swipes along the photo to another man, much younger but tall too.
His smile is the first thing you notice, so bright and earnest, and with perfect teeth.
"Gaz, Kyle. We're always getting into shit together." He adds with a mischievous chuckle. "Good lad though."
"He looks nice." You offer, before scrolling across the image yourself.
The next man in line is the tallest and broadest, his face hidden behind a skull mask that you find strangely endearing. "Ooh, cool mask."
"That's Ghost." Johnny whispers, his voice more sombre than before.
The lack of a real name combined with the mask confuses you. "Just Ghost?" You ask.
"Aye, unless he tells you otherwise. Scary motherfucker, loves a good dad joke though." Johnny humanises him, and the fondness within his voice doesn't escape you.
All in all, you're left with more questions than answers, but you already feel privileged that Johnny has shared this much with you. Still, there's something pressing on your mind. "Everyone gets a nickname, what's yours?"
"Soap." He answers firmly, a slight smile tugging at his lips.
"Soap? Why?" You can't say you're familiar with military nicknames, but Soap certainly seems like a strange one.
"Am good at cleaning house." There's something underlying his playful tone that you can't quite put your finger on, something hinting at the inevitable darkness underneath.
Johnny pushes past it like it never happened, turning the attention back on you. "How's your work, anyway?"
"Boring, though I imagine every job is compared to yours." You pause, taking a sip of your drink as you try to conjure up anything interesting about your career. "I work at my PC all day and the highlight is office gossip, which is often about one or two messy people fucking everyone in the building."
"Like reality TV, but you live it?" He smirks, already seeming amused by the inevitable stories he'll get to hear. It seems Johnny might be a little bit of a gossip.
"Yes, exactly!" You giggle, finding his intrigue endearing. "So I live in reality TV and you live in one of those gritty military shows."
"Pretty much." He clicks his tongue, turning to take a sip of his own drink as his eyes glaze over again.
You dread to think of all the things he's seen—witnessing them on TV is already too much for you, never mind seeing them for real.
"... It must be tough." You offer earnestly, unsure of what else to say.
"Sometimes, it's no' so bad, really." He shrugs, a tight smile on his lips. "I'd rather not talk about it while I'm with yer, not now anyway. That okay?"
The softness in his eyes fuels the guilt gripping at your chest—you never meant to pry or make him uncomfortable, only to offer yourself up as a safe space. "Yeah, I'm sorry."
"Nothing to apologise for. You'll have plenty of time to get to know that part of me, tha's all." He gives you a smile, a more earnest one this time, as he refuses to let either of you settle in a solemn moment. Instead, he redirects to the idea of you spending time together in the future.
"Oh, I will?" You ask, voice hopeful—any negative emotions swirling away as Johnny reaches out to stroke your hand.
"Already planning our second date in ma head." He winks cheekily, that gorgeous smile back on his face in full effect.
You settle back into your meal with a contented warmth spreading through you, feeling like there's nowhere else you'd rather be than by Johnny's side.
When you make it to the train station hours later, your heart starts to sink as you get closer and closer to your goodbye. The sun is only just beginning to dip into the sky, but the train schedule demands Johnny's return to Hereford.
The two of you stand before the departure boards, savouring your last moments together as you hold each other close.
"How are yer getting home?" Johnny asks, ever the gentleman.
You don't look him in the eye as you speak words you know he isn't going to enjoy hearing, in fact, you all but hide in his chest as you mumble. "I was planning on walking."
He stiffens, pulling away slightly. "I'll order an uber." His words are laced with a protectiveness—and whether it's his instincts as a man, a soldier, or a dom you're not sure. Likely, it's a combination of all, making him determined to get you home safe and sound.
You already know better than to argue with him on this. "I can order my own uber."
His eyes soften, clearly relaxing upon hearing you relent so easily. "Promise?"
You nod. "I swear, I will."
You cuddle back into his chest again, the two of you clinging to each other. With your ear pressed against him, you can hear the steady rhythm of Johnny's heart, and you focus on it beating as you absorb every last moment with him.
That moment is interrupted by the station announcement, informing you that the next train to depart will be his.
"I better get going." He loosens his grip on you but still holds your arms as he stares down at you adoringly.
"Don't want you to." You admit, voice a little forlorn. It already hurts to let him go, especially since you don't know when you'll see each other again. Johnny could be deployed again at any moment, and after making all of this real, the thought seems paralysing.
"I don't want to either, but I'll see yer soon." He whispers soothingly, a hand stroking across your cheek as the promise falls from his lips.
You force yourself to smile, to feel strong in the face of your separation. Something within you urges you to put on a brave face, to show Johnny that you can be resolute for him. "We'll have to think more on a cool date number two idea."
"We will." He nods, fingers still stroking oh so delicately across your cheek, as his eyes flicker down to your lips. "Bonnie?"
"Yeah?" Your response is barely audible, your breath stolen as you know what's coming next, and you crave it so desperately.
"Gonna kiss yer now, if tha's alright."
"Please."
Johnny closes the final inches as he presses his lips to yours—soft and gentle at first as his hand cups your cheek, before the other comes to grasp at you too, holding you in place as he deepens the kiss. Your body floods with euphoria, desire, peace—as you kiss back with everything you have and pour all of yourself into him.
The two of you are lost in each other, all grasping hands and lips caressing lips—two hearts opening up to each other.
Johnny is the only one of you with enough restraint to pull away, settling his forehead against yours as he smiles unreservedly—his eyes shining with delight. "Fuckin' Christ."
You push against his chest, putting some distance between you as you giggle. "You better go before we commit acts of public indecency."
"Aye." He nods, yet he tucks a finger under your chin to angle your mouth up at him. "One more?"
You nod enthusiastically before diving back in, savouring his lips on yours—the taste of coffee, the softness contrasted with his stubble, the hint of a groan that rumbles through him.
"Okay." He sighs, forcing himself to step away, even if your hands remain linked. "Message me when you get home, yeah?"
"I'll be texting you the second you leave, sorry."
"Oh, I was planning on doing the same, dinnae worry." He winks.
Reluctantly, you let him go—instantly feeling a little more lost without him at your side.
"See you soon, Johnny." You call out, smile soft as he makes his way over to the ticket gate.
"Not if I see yer first, sweetheart." He calls back, then turns his attention away to scan his ticket at the barrier.
On the other side, he catches your eye once more, offering you a tiny, playful salute before he turns to make his way to his train.
You're left in a weird state between euphoria and emptiness—feeling like you have everything and nothing at the same time. Johnny was everything you could've wanted and more, and you're already counting down the days until you can see him again.
You watch until his silhouette disappears, and turn your attention to your phone to get to ordering that uber you promised him you'd take. When you unlock your phone, a message from Johnny is waiting for you.
Miss you already, my pretty kitty <3
#john soap mactavish x reader#john soap mactavish#soap mactavish x reader#soap x reader#soap mactavish#john mactavish x reader#johnny mactavish x reader#johnny soap mactavish x reader#johnny soap mactavish#call of duty x reader#call of duty fanfiction#soap mw2#call of duty fanfic#soap cod#collars and cages#this is a big chonky read and idk how to feel about it but here we are
760 notes
·
View notes
Text
mini skirt
javíer peña x reader
ೀ ive been so focused on my series i missed writing for our man osrs !!
ೀ its spring break n with amount of parties ive got to attend, my ass will b going to write a fic duh!
ೀ description: porn with no plot literally, SMUT SMUT, this shit lowk filthy, reader is bent over the passenger seat 😶, public sex!, parked (?) car sex, oral sex (r receiving) exhibitionism, dom!javíer, mean!javíer, possesive af!javí, sub!reader, reader speaks slight spanish, reader is thristy for javi, JAVÍ TALKS YOU THRU IT/IN SPANISH 2 (😩🤧), lowk degradation in spanish aswell, multiple orgasms, slight overstim (r receiving), degradation ( r receiving), eating out from the back, spanking, doggystyle, hair pulling ( r receiving), choking ( r receiving), unprotected p in v sex, creampie, no use of y/n, use of pet names (pequeña, neña, bebésita, amor/amorsita)
spanish key words for all my non-spanish speakers !
-pequeña/neña: term of endearment for someone smaller than/my girl, babygirl
-princesa/bebésita: my baby/princess
-dime/porque: tell me/why
- tan’ mojada/tan linda: so wet/ your so wet/such a sweet/so sweet
-lo que quieres/dios mio: my god/oh my god/what you want
-belleza/sucia: beauty/dirty/filthy
-amas/amor/(sita): you love/love/lover
-como te pongo/volverá pasar: how i get you/ever happen again/happened again
-eso/lo que pasará : a way of affirming or agreeing/what will happen again
in traditional way of celebrating the spring break, how else than going out with your girls to the club?
the winter was finally over as women traded their big coats and long-sleeves for skimpy tops and short skirts or shorts.
your beloved boyfriend knew you would be going out tonight, letting him know before he left for his federal attendees.
Javíer didn’t say much except to text him once you left the house, arrived at the party, and when to come pick you up.
Javí was a sweet, a gentle giant.
but he was also stern, it was a trait he had to deal with being apart of the job. it was in his nature to be overprotective.
his eyes told you something completely different along with his stance although he didn’t once tell you a negative thing for wanting to go out and have fun.
he had his hands on his hips, popping one out as his eyebrows tensed together and his tongue poked through his cheek. Javí’s eyes were mean and deep as he stared at you while you promised him to let him know the second anything were to happen before he got ready for work.
you were all dressed up by 9:00 pm as you now, waited on your friends to pick you up at any moment now.
you were wearing a green tube top, pairing it with a pink plaid mini skirt. you chose a cute silver chain belt as an accessory to go along with your silver blinged earrings.
your makeup was set onto your skin perfectly, bringing out the best features of your beauty. your hair was styled to your liking and you chose these cute bubblegum pink pumps to piece your outfit all together.
you picked up your phone, having a small photoshoot of your own before choosing the picture you thought was best and sending it to Javìer.
you were sat infront of the mirror, pulling a cute pose while trying to get you whole outfit in frame.
not even 3 minutes later, a ping rings through your phone.
⤷ que belleza neña go have ur fun for now
⤷ cus ur not gonna like it when i pick u up
your heart raced with lustful anticipation and excitement. you continued to tease him through message, sending another picture to him that showed how risque your pink mini-skirt was.
⤷ u are so done for pequeña
he wasn’t even here, yet you could feel his menacing presence and hear his strict tone in your head.
soon enough, you were getting a call from your friends; letting you know they were outside.
✧○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○✧ ✧○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○✧
you and your bestfriend danced along to the house music that played through the huge booming speakers of the wide-spaced club that was only illuminated by a combination of different color fading lights.
you had a few drinks already, loosing track of how long you’ve been dancing for before stepping away with your friends. you went back to your the corner couch you were seated at along with your friends.
you felt hazed out and tipsy as you uncapped your water bottle before taking a sip.
all your tipsy self could think about was Javí, it was 1 AM and you knew he was awake and on stand-by for you.
your vision was blurry because of the alcohol as you open his contact, dialing him on the phone. you hear the phone ring momentarily before connecting.
“everything good, princesa?”
“mmhmm, i misss you javí” you slurred out.
“how drunk are you, neña?” his tone was caring, making your overwhelmed tipsy body run a cold shiver through your spine.
“s’only tipsyy—amor?” you respond before calling out to him, more like whining out to him.
“dime pequeña” the way his voice sounded so caring, yet stern, made your body quiver and breath hitch.
the alcohol was definitely assisting your mind in fogging it with only one thought; Javíer.
“come pick me up—s’wanna go home to youu” you plead with a slight moan, the alcohol was definitely getting the best of you.
“i’ll be there in 15 minutes, get ready.”
✧○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○✧ ✧○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○✧
Javí was not an idiot, he could hear the neediness in your tone.
after being together for 5 years, Javí always knew the second his poor girl had one too many drinks and wanted to run home to her man.
which is how you always ended up with you stuffed so full of Javíer’s thick cock after a night out.
Javíer practically sped through the semi-empty midnight streets, definitely not driving the speed limit.
soon enough he was outside the club venue, sending you a message that he was outside. Javíer couldn’t find close parking, so he parked the car farther down the empty street.
you were inside, hugging your friend's goodbye, grabbing your purse before they walked you to the front of the club door.
you opened the door and there he was, the man you had been longing for the whole night. he was standing there under the streetlight with a lit cigarette in his mouth.
he had his light blue button up hugging his chest and muscular arms as it was tucked into his jeans, his belt holding his pants perfectly.
you took him in as you step towards him as he puffed on his cigarette while his eyes traveled down your body.
Javíer took in the way your tits were accentuated through your small green top, your skirt stopped just at your upper thigh as your entire legs were on display, and your pumps gave you a taller stance than your natural one.
you still were not enough to compare to his tall and built frame.
Javí steps closer once you were just a foot away from him, your face meeting his broad chest “real dolled up, huh?” he mutters under his breath, lifting two fingers to grasp your chin; making you look up at him.
you felt your voice caught in your throat as you felt your heat begin to pool into your panties. the breeze from the cold night air, lifting the blimps of your skin.
“c’mon pequeña, i parked the car a little down” Javí instinctively wraps his arm around your lower waist, his hand ghosting over your ass.
you didn’t realize how he was sizing up your skirt with his hand, seeing how close he was to that pretty pussy over your little skirt.
you both made your way down the dark street; the night sky being illuminated by the full moon that was bleeding bright tonight as you both walked past dim streetlights.
you pass a couple empty parked cars; the streets empty with no one in view.
you walked down with Javíer having a tight grasp on your waist made your mind run wild in a pure lustful frenzy.
you see Javí’s truck come into view, recognizing the big black vehicle from a few feet away.
“so did you have fun, princesa?” he begins to ask you about your night as the arm that was wrapped around you loosens. he took your purse from your arm before proceeding to unlock the door.
“was’good babyy, i danced a good bit with my friends after i finished my two drinkss” you slightly slurred out as your vision regained its focus but feeling the buzz still tingle up your body.
he opened the passenger door for you as he set your purse down inside the car.
all you heard from Javí was an almost inaudible hum from his lips as you go to step into the passenger seat…. or at least you tried.
Javíer immediately made your body fumble over into the passenger seat, bending over with one knee on the seat and your other foot down onto the pedestal below his truck, holding your balance.
“Ja-Javí?” you were slightly taken aback by the way he grabbed you, but you weren’t complaining as him manhandling you completely had your panties glued to your slit by your own arousal.
“i bet all the men in there enjoyed the little show you gave them” his tone was husky and cold as you felt his back against yours as his thick cool buckle brushed against the back of your exposed thighs.
“I-no—I wasn’t” you began to whine out, your ass squirming a little and bumping up against his belt buckle more.
“hm neña? I couldn’t hear you.” you felt his cold hands flip your skirt up, fondling and gripping the flesh as more midnight breeze pushed against your skin.
you were facing forward, only seeing the complete inside of his car and empty driver seat.
but you could completely feel Javíer behind you.
you looked back at him causing your body to arch down a bit more, completely exposing your seeped through panties. you’ve never felt so exposed before.
here you were, bent over Javí’s truck with your ass completely exposed for public display as the car door wasn’t shut at all.
the only coverage being the open car-door from the side; creating a makeshift shield from one angle as the other had a perfect view for anyone to see the way Javíer was going to fuck you.
“tan’ mojada pequeña, porque?”
you felt his hands run up and down your clothed slit, pushing the wet fabric against your pussy causing a temporary bubbly friction as you felt the pressure of his two fingers.
you let out a pathetic whimper as you lean yourself more forward, trying your hardest to focus on your balance.
“fuckin’ answer me when I'm talking to you!”
he ordered, his tone was harsh and guttural causing a chill to run up your body which was immediately followed by a jump as Javíer’s hand landed a dour smack onto the exposed flesh of your ass.
“you! s’all because of you!” you yelp out as you wiggle your ass excitingly.
“oh so, my slut does know how to speak” he mocked out, his tone pitying you.
“m’sorry Javí—no volverá pasar!” your voice velveted out as you pleaded, your legs quivering with each blow of nature’s breeze.
“mí neña tan linda, always wanting to go out in such slutty outfits.” he cooed out, his hands finding the slim lining of your underwear right under your skirt.
you felt so small and filthy like this, your body subconsciously growing timid under the oozing pleasure he was igniting inside you and out of you, right here at the corner of an empty street, in a parked car.
he pulled down your panties, watching through the natural gloomed out lighting how your panties sticked to your pussy with your juices leaking down you.
“look at that pretty pussy” he coos lewdly, causing you to whine out as takes his middle and ring finger to circle around your soaked pussyhole.
“been needing you, Javí baby” you began to babble as he made you grow more antsy in bliss.
“only you! need you—please-oh fuck!” your babbles were interrupted by your own shriek as you felt a warm wet feeling take over the one cold and exposed feeling of your pussy.
Javíer began to fuck you with his tongue, wasting no time in attaching his lips to your dripping pussy; how could he? when it was crying for him.
you tried to keep your balance by gripping onto the headrest of the passenger seat as you felt his tongue run a long swipe along your juiced folds “oh fuck Javí!” you were too fucking horny to care about your loud moans possibly ringing through the silent street-night.
not for a single second did Javí pull away from your pussy, giving her all his attention.
Javíer sucked on your clit, rolling his tongue around it and your slits as the only words that fell from your lips was his name.
“oh my—Javí! oh my fuck!” you couldn’t help but croak out your moans at the immense pleasure you were feeling.
the way he had you was bringing you pure rapture at the taboo thought of someone possibly watching you two in the midnight.
you could feel your stomach erupt as your orgasm bubbled through the delicious open-mouthed licks coming from his beautiful tongue.
you felt the small hairs of his mustache friction against your clit causing your ass to push back into his face more while you cried out in ecstasy. you felt yourself grow closer to your climax.
Javíer kept up with the volume of your moans and pathetic whines.
his pace never halting as his hands went to grip your hips to keep your ass bent over and pussy exposed as he eats you out like he hasn’t fucking eaten in decades.
you felt your orgasm begin to build up, you were sure your nails were digging into the plush of the passenger seat material, creating crescents into the fabric.
your eyes rolled back as your mouth fell agape in vicious delight. you felt your orgasm flow through your body as he licked each trickling bead from your leaking pussy.
you felt satisfaction warp through your body as you look back at Javí.
you could barely see him as the moon shined right behind his head like a make-shift crown, for the only man; only man you allowed to ever take you like this, like a whore.
Javíer had been palming his painful hard-on through his now, unzipped jeans; only the crotch of his boxers for display through his unbuckled belt.
you began to wriggle your ass even more, slightly backing it to brush up against his clothed cock. you felt the cool metal buckle against your flesh again, colliding with the feeling of another indecent smack to your plushy ass.
you were still looking back at him as you let out euphoric sob through fucked out eyes.
“dime lo que quieres, mi amor”
Javíer husked out, licking his lips before massaging the tingling flesh of your ass. his voice returned to a low octave, still carrying a stern, but no longer harsh demeanor.
“i need you to fuck me Javí!”
that was all he needed to hear to have him slipping his boxers low enough to pull out his thick erection, standing flavorful and tall.
Javíer pumped himself softly before aligning himself with your glistening entrance.
Javí squeezed your hips softly, bringing you closer to him as he sinks his cock into your gushy pussy.
the second you feel his cock glide into with ease like always, your pussy always managing to snug him perfectly into you as the stretch convulsed your pussy.
“y’always feel like fuckin’ heaven, bebésita” Javíer hissed out as the feeling of your balmy and pulsing pussy, taking him like you were made for him only.
“feels—feels so good amor! s’big!” you mewled out, your voice being fervent.
Javíer became the only thing you felt, engulfing your pussy and whole-being.
you felt him begin to slide in’n’out of you at a feverishly slow pace, making you feel every inch that smoothly drowned into each crevess of your insides.
just the feeling of Javí’s big thick cock had your breath caught in your chest, completely mind-bending as his soft slides turn into piquant thrusts in no time.
“mphm—díos mìo!” you cried out lecherously, you felt Javíer’s hand make its way up your semi-clothed back till it was entangled in your hair.
he doesn’t hesitate to pull on it, pulling your body up along the way and arching the position you were in more. you were sure your nails cut into the fabric of Javíer’s little truck.
Javíer’s savoring slow pace turned into pummeling thrusts. you could feel each bounce of your ass bounce off his hips as his hand tugged on your hair, inflaming a riveting pain in you.
his pace electrified with each little sob of his name that left your mouth, you could barely even speak as you tried to swallow back the drool that threaten to drip down the corner of your fucked out mouth.
“who’s slut are you, hm?” once again, his jarring tone and vulgarity came out.
“¡solo para ti! siempre para ti!” you chant , repeating it once more at another smack he landed on the now, strawberry flesh off your ass.
“eso bebèsita, all those men can look but, they can’t touch—isn’t that, right?” his question grunts out as his cock rams into you at a relishing speed.
your head was being tugged back as your body recoiled with every vigorous thrust from his snapping hips. your neck began to ache as you struggle to keep looking at him as his hand gripped your hair; unknowing if he can even see you but oh, he definitely can.
your eyes were squeezed shut as your mouth was completely agape, feeling wicked with the cock-dumb haze he put you in.
your body shook as Javíer completely ravished you.
“Javí—yes! fuck ya—” your pussy clenched around him with your fucked out babble.
“amás como te pongo, eh? letting me fuck you right’ere where anyone can see—que suciá.”
“for you—only—fuck—you!” your moans got more strangled out with each worship that left your mouth, his cock completely taking over your membrane; filling your pussy and mind with each hankering momentum.
his cock continued to plunge into you mercilessly, the sound of your each other’s skin slamming against each other with the small deep creaks coming from the moving truck.
Javíer was taking you viciously and relentlessly, his hand let go of the tug he had on your hair before finding its way around your neck, squeezing ever-so slightly.
all he wishes was to be able to be there with you, every single time you go out, but his job took so much time away from his personal life; it infuriated him, especially today when he seen those little pictures you sent him.
it wasn’t that he didn’t trust you, he knew how much you loved him, but it was the people.
he wishes he could keep you like his gun, tucked away and only accessible to him.
you felt his cock pistol into you at a deeper angle, feeling his tip flutter against your cervix causing your tummy to swell in rapture. you weren’t even sure if you were still breathing at this point, only rigid cries and moans leaving your lips.
“please javí! please! s’much—too much!” you could feel your stomach bubble up immense pleasure and overstimulating pain as your walls flared and fluttered around his thick cock as your second orgasm begins to enthrall your body.
“now now, y’can handle the club—you can handle this dick, isn’t that right pequeña?” Javíer hissed and heaved out roughly as he feels his own climax approach him.
he still doesn't stop his hips from hauling into yours as he leans himself down, splaying his clothed chest against your back. you felt his free hand go up through your torso till he found his way to your titties, squeezing each one through your top.
you felt the way his callous big hands burned onto your chest and neck, now feeling hot on your sweating skin. your bodies rocked against each other as you both indulged in thrilling pleasure.
you felt the brim of your climax get closer to shooting through and out your body, pussy clenching once more around Javíer’s coated cock “ándale neña, dámelo” he coos breathlessly as his hips begin to stutter down into a flux pace.
the empty streets echoed with noises of your nefarious act.
you would be damned the minute anyone was to see two of you.
just the unholy thought of someone possibly watching the two of you. the way he had you like this; in a completely immorally beautiful position was enough to have your body skyrocket.
the intense wave that crashed through you as your cries croak out into silence, only now hearing Javíer’s deep groans and grunts in your ear as the grip he has on your throat tightens softly.
he began to reach his own climax as you felt him twitch inside your fluttering walls, milking him through his orgasm completely. your bodies completely melted into each other as you both became breathless together.
you felt the way his load creamed into you, coating your walls and filling you up with his creamy cum as he watches the mix of both your pulpy moisture drip out of your swollen hole.
you were seeing stars as your eyes were squeeze shut as the slight cut-off of oxygen had your mind-boggled and feeling febrile.
the second Javíer feels you turn into mush under him while in his embrace. he immediately pulls out, reality setting him out of his lust possessed-like trance.
he tucks himself away after hiking up your panties and pulling down your skirt. he reached over for his jacket that was in the driver's seat, sprawling it over your lap after he flipped you over; helping your sore and fucked-out self sit.
he immediately checked around to see if anyone had been watching before shutting your passenger door and making his way to sit in the driver’s seat.
he leaned over into you, placing a passionate kiss on your lips as his warm hand caresses your cheek before pulling away, still leaned in close to your lips.
“lo que pasára pequeña, if you wear these tiny mini skirts without around me”
dolls-taglist: ̗̀➛ @elliewilliamsgirl3 @yondaimekazzy
to join my taglist click here !
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal stories#pedro pascal one shot#pedro pascal fandom#javier pena x you#javier pena one shot#javier pena x reader#javier pena smut#javier pena fanfiction#javier peña#javier peña smut#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal narcos#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedrostories#narcos#javier pena narcos#pedro pascal x y/n
224 notes
·
View notes
Note
no because i have had this thought since this years met and i NEED to tell someone
imagine like influencer!reader who is doing interviews at the met (kinda like emma chamberlain) and she’s like a very known fan of harry (and was very open ab having a crush on harry online because she was so sure this man would never see it) and she interviews him and is lowk nervous because….. he’s harry styles and maybe he somehow (definitely) KNOWS. she has a massive crush on him and just
basically that!!! so if you could could you write something w that? i’ve had the idea for months it was driving me crazy
lingering
Summary: Everyone knows Y/N has a crush on Harry. But she didn't expect him to know about it too. She could have never imagined things to unfold this way...
Warnings: Y/N has a very obvious crush on harry, fangirling ig???, Harry is a tease, suggestive language, anxious Y/N, oh Harry is also a huge flirt, kind of a fast pace way to a one night stand (no graphic description)
Words: 2.3k
A/N: Gosh, I love that idea!! Influencer!Y/N x Harry is one of my favourite dynamics ever. This turned out way longer than planned but I hope you still have fun with it!
Masterlist | Request
The Met Gala was the event of the year. For everyone. Not only for her. But for her it meant so much more. It was her first opportunity to make the jump from being a simple Influencer to being a real presence in the world of fame and celebrities. Of course, she wasn't just seeking fame and attention, but more possibilities. Open up new ways of life for herself and–
There was a light tap on her shoulder. She turned around in an instant, looking at a familiar PR manager she had talked to a few weeks ahead of the gala.
"I'm so glad you could make it. We were really blown away by the podcast you did and we're excited to see how the interviews on the red carpet will turn out," the blonde woman said, giving her a soft smile. She was wearing a tight black dress, a clipboard in hand, but the blush on her cheeks, combined with the small beads of sweat on her forehead, were the only things telling of today's pressure on her.
Y/N could understand. She had paced up and down in her hotel room earlier today, changing her outfit three times and making sure every little strand of her hair would be in place perfectly. Today was not for imperfections. Today was a step into the future – hopefully.
"I need to thank you for inviting me. This opportunity is really one of a kind and–"
"I'm so sorry, dear," the manager interrupted her as she fumbled around in her small Valentino bag, following the ringing of her phone. "No problem," Y/N replied, giving her a reluctant smile.
She could hear the camera shutters go off in the distance, probably due to the arrival of the first guests. Her palms were growing sweaty. She was getting closer to her "big" moments. Soon, she would be talking to all these famous people, ones she had always looked up to, others she had admired for years.
"It's time to go," the manager said quickly, pushing Y/N into the direction of the carpet. The camera man followed close behind, probably being on her tail the entire day. A microphone was pushed into her hand as well as she stepped out onto the long red carpet, hundreds of photographers waiting on the sides. Their lenses were focused on the few celebrities already on the carpet.
Ryan Reynolds was one of them which made her feel giddy inside already.
But the real surprise came around the corner just a moment later. Flashing lights were going off left and right as he appeared in his lace outfit. It was way more see-through than she could have handled in any other situation.
Harry Styles looked stunning.
Her grip around the microphone became tighter as she watched him pose in front of the cameras, earring dangling on his sides, his hair styled perfectly.
A part of her wanted to rush over immediately. Ask him a million questions and record all of it. Because when would she ever be face to face with the Harry Styles again?
Another part of her, a much stronger one, felt the urge to run backstage and escape this moment. She was way too afraid to embarrass herself in front of her biggest celebrity crush. The worst thing was – everyone knew she had this huge crush on Harry for years. She was quite open when it came to talking with her community about people she thought of as attractive or had a crush on. But she was also usually a thousand miles away from said crushes. It had always been a quiet admiring through her phone screen and giggles exchanged with friends over dinner.
Harry wouldn't know this, of course, but it surely didn't make the situation easier for her.
He seemed to be a walking reminder of what people knew about her and testing her own awkwardness in the process.
Before she could turn around and make her escape to probably lock herself in the bathroom as to not embarrass herself in any way – because that would truly be a tragedy in front of him – he was already right in front of her.
There was the charming, witty smile he was giving his fans or interviewers all the time. His eyes looked a deeper shade of green as she was standing right in front of him. Of course, she had looked at a thousand pictures of him over the last few years, but nothing came close to this moment. Maybe it was the heat that was rushing into her face or maybe the overwhelming urge to present herself from her best side – but it was all so different than she had ever imagined.
Y/N took a long breath. She needed to focus. Or else millions of people would see her shocked expression all over Instagram, Twitter and National TV. So she did what she always did best. Entertain.
She turned towards the camera. "Harry Styles just joined us at the Met Gala!" She said excitedly and none of it was part of her acting. Genuine excitement was bubbling uncontrollably in her belly.
Then she turned back around and shook Harry's hand. It was enough to make her legs wobble for a moment, but she was a grown woman and she would stay calm. On the outside at least.
"Nice to meet you, Y/N."
He knew her name? How did he know her name?
Something had to be wrong. She tried hard to stop herself from pinching her arm in an attempt to wake up from this dream or nightmare – whatever you wanna call it.
"You're looking amazing tonight. Do you mind telling us more about what you're wearing?" She smiled and held the microphone into his direction.
Harry gave her an enthusiastic nod and then started to talk all about the designer of his outfit and how it was composed. She listened carefully, bound to his lips as she had been so many times before through the screen.
He continued to keep eye contact with her, continuously making her nervous. It wasn't his fault. She just wasn't prepared to get any attention at all from him.
"Thank you so much. Are you looking forward to tonight's after show party?" She had so many more questions to ask. About his music. Even about his favourite food. But none of that was expected of her right now and she didn't want to lose herself in the admiration she had kept for that man for so long.
"Definitely. Will you be there too?" Harry tilted his head to the side, slightly – a small sign of curiosity.
The thoughts in her head stopped for a moment. Was he really asking her...? He was just making friendly conversation. Nothing more. The slight smirk in his face was nothing. Nothing to think more about.
"Probably. Maybe we can share a drink if we see each other?" She could feel her palms growing more and more sweaty. Was this really not just a dream?
"That will be on me. See you later then." Then he shook her hand again and she prayed that he wouldn't feel how sweaty she had become. How her nerves were running wild inside her body.
"See you later."
Her face felt like it was on fire just a few hours later. She was looking at herself in the mirror, her hair having turned messy and her eyes almost screaming the truth at everyone.
She was nervous and out of her mind.
The music outside was loud. Giggles and laughter echoed over into the bathroom whenever the door opened and a new woman came in. She had seen so many celebrities today that she had lost count. Some of them asked her if she was alright, if she needed help with her make-up, while others just continued on with their day.
When she was alone for a brief moment, she took a deep breath. "It's gonna be alright," she muttered under her breath before she pushed herself off the sink and went back into the crowded room.
The bar was illuminated with purple lights and that's where she was headed. On her way there, she could see him following her in the corner of her vision.
This was really happening.
"What would you like to drink?" His voice was deep, but loud enough for her to make out his words in the packed room. A shiver ran down her spine when she felt his arm brush hers as he made his way to her side.
Harry leaned against the counter casually, his outfit catching her interest immediately. He had changed into a white shirt with a huge red bow at the front.
And he still looked as good as earlier.
"A Martini is just fine," she answered with a smile, pushing herself to sit on the barstool. Harry ordered two drinks for them, before he sat down on the chair next to her.
"You're enjoying yourself?" His voice was laced with curiosity once more, his hand resting on the bar. She had a hard time not taking a closer look at the rings adorning his fingers.
"Oh yeah, a lot. What about you?"
"The evening is about to get a lot better now that I finally found you," he admitted with a low chuckle and accepted the drinks from the bartender when he came back over.
Y/N could feel her head spinning. What did she do to get all this attention from him? Did he know what he was doing to her? Did he know about her crush on him?
"Those are some pretty heavy words if you acknowledge the fact that we have never met before today," she replied, a simple attempt to cool down herself and ground them both in reality again. Or more so herself.
"That's true, but I like to make people happy."
She almost choked on her drink. He had to know something. How would he know that talking to her would make her day?
Knowing that Harry Styles had probably seen a video of her made her feel even more dizzy.
She needed to loosen up. This would be her only chance at spending an evening with her favourite singer and long-time celebrity crush. Another sip from the Martini as a way to gather some liquid courage as quickly as possible.
"Me too. I hope talking to me makes you just as happy as it makes me," she answered with a smile, gathering all the confidence she had.
Harry's lovely smile as he took a sip from his straw was all she needed as confirmation. Maybe she was in for a good time if she came out of her shell and was able to push her anxiety to the back of her mind.
"It definitely does. I've seen your video on 2010's fashion just a few days ago. It was a really good watch."
She couldn't hold back her huge smile. Harry had seen her videos and liked them. That was more than she had ever hoped for. More than she had ever allowed herself to dream about!
“Oh my god, that means a lot to me, I-“
“I’m so glad you didn’t include my too tight skinny jeans in there, actually. That would have been embarrassing,” Harry joked casually, his eyes wandering from her hands to her mouth and then her eyes.
While his eyes were filled with joy and curiosity, his gaze still seemed to keep her trapped under his spell. There was something undeniably charming and menacing about Harry Styles.
She had known it all along, but seeing it in real life, actually being under said spell, was a different experience entirely.
"I believe they still looked decent," she admitted with a small shrug, taking another sip from her drink.
"You certainly don't look decent tonight. That can only be described as stunning."
She was so taken aback by the compliment that she was close to spitting out her drink. Her hand wrapped tighter around her glass and she was thrown into a spiral of nerves and anxiety. Was Harry Styles straight up flirting with her? He definitely was and she had no idea how to act.
"Have you looked at yours-"
"I don't need to look at myself if I can look at something better." His voice had grown deeper and he moved closer ever so slightly.
She was at a loss for words now. Where was this going?
But she quickly decided that she liked it, despite her initial anxiety.
So Y/N took a step closer as well, her fingers brushing past Harry's as she was setting down her drink on the counter.
"You're really a flirt," she whispered, wondering if he had even heard her over the loud music.
But his eyes seemed fixed on her lips, a smirk resting on his own.
"As you have suspected in a video or two..."
It sent a shiver straight down her spine to get more and more confirmation that he had been watching her stuff. He knew exactly what he was doing to her and she wanted to let him do whatever he wanted.
This was what she had been waiting for.
"Maybe you can prove a bit more of my assumptions right?" She replied, fingers brushing over his forearm, under his sleeve and feeling the soft skin. She wanted to see him without the top. She wanted to finally see that naked chest up close, take a look at every little line of his tattoos and count them all.
"Why would we waste any more time then?" He grinned, his right hand coming up to wrap around her wrist slowly. He took her hand away from his skin, intertwining their fingers slowly before he slid off his chair.
They left their drinks unfinished.
But there was more important business to get to.
#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles x reader#love on tour#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fic#harry styles imagine#harry styles x you#fine line#harry styles headcanons#one direction#harry styles writing#harry styles blurb#harry styles angst#harry styles fluff#one direction imagine#hs1
664 notes
·
View notes
Text
One piece men react to your new haircut
ft. Law, Zoro and Sanji
fluff + gn reader with long hair
LAW
“Y/n-ya” Laws muffled voice ringed in your ears from outside your dorm, a tad softer tone coloring his words than he would usually use, a tone that always accompanied your name after it
He was met with silence
You had skipped breakfast, first red flag, and when you didn’t showed up for the monthly meeting at his office he knew something was up, he just didn’t know exactly what could be
“Go away” the doctors eyebrows curled in confusion, you sounded upset
“Can you open the door please?”
“No”
Laws mind ran wild trying to think of a reason for your behavior changing one day to another, hiding away in your dorm
“Shambles”
The tall man appears in front of your door as he finds you underneath your bedsheets curled in a ball. Obviously what his mind zeroed in to immediately was that you may be feeling unwell, but as the tiniest softest sob left your mouth he realized it was a different kind of unwell he had not anticipated
Feeling extremely unprepared, he sits at the end of your bed, immediately making you squirm and hide further in your bed
“Don’t look at me, I'm horrendous!” The captain cannot stop the snickers that scapes his mouth at your statement
“Don’t be ridiculous” In a swift move Law removes the sheets, revealing your face hiding behind your hands
He noticed right away what you were referring to as apparently ‘horrendous’. Your locks were cut short too way above your shoulders, at the height of the frame of your face. He admires the new style, a smile tugging at his lips before he removes your hands from your regretful face, your eyes scan his expression in total terror
“I thought I could do it myself” a whisper could be heard louder than the words leaving you as you melt at Laws sweet touch “I look so bad”
Law runs his finger through your soft short strands before stroking your cheek “You look just fine y/n-ya… it quite suits you”
Your face turns from his grasp but your Captain is quick to catch you “You’re gorgeous any day, any time, with long or short hair” Doe eyes met his as if you were relieved at his praise
“Promise?”
“Promise”
Your short hair was quick to become Laws favorite look on you
ZORO
“Don’t move” Zoro's tongue peeks at the side of his lips as he finds the perfect angle to cut your soft long strands of hair
“If you cut me in half…”
“Quit complaining I haven’t even started” He watches as your hands show him what length to cut for the third time, the swordsman takes a deep breath. A swift move from his strong arms followed by the sound of a cut near your ears is the last thing that fills your senses before a weight is lifted from your shoulders. Your eyes peek at the floor, a sea of your now old hair beneath you
“Perfect” you hear Zoro mutter, you run your hand through your hair, a grimace appearing on your face
"It's not straight” you sigh, defeated
“What are you talking about?” Zoro appears in your field of vision and scans the way your hair sits at the sides of your frame, before you can even complain about it, another cut is heard disrupting the peace of The Sunny.
Instantly you run to the bathroom mirror, it’s not perfect per se´, but he got the exact length you wanted to. You were a short hair kind of a person your whole life, but when you had started to sail through the sea, embarking alongside the future king of the pirates, it was hard to keep up a neat cut like the one you liked, so you resorted to a more easy way out. Another sigh escapes you, a different one this time, this one is a content one. You smile as you pose before the mirror, which reflects another figure outside the bathroom watching you intently
“Thank you Zoro” you offer him the softest and most thankful smile through your reflection, the swordsman shrugs, trying not to make a big deal out of it, truth was he was more than glad to help you, in anything you may need, it made him feel important. His eyes take on the new view of your appearance once more, his heart thrumbing in his ears and a blush sitting on his cheeks, he didn't know how you managed to look even more breathtaking
“No problem”
You wink at him at you may have broke him, the swordsman stays frozen in place as you run to show Nami and Robin your new look
SANJI
The cook stays in a trance as he watches you braid your long beautiful locks in a fish braid before bed, as you tie it you watch your reflection for a while, a hesitant look appearing making your nose scrunch, the antic making his heart jump in his chest. Sanji bites his tongue, wanting to comment on this action, curious as to what could possibly be bothering you, because last time he checked, your reflection was nothing to frown about.
"What's wrong, my love?" He asks ever so gently, you stay silent before walking to your shared bed, sighing as you lay beside him
“I want to cut my hair, it’s really hard work keeping it off my face, and it takes ages to wash and style” another frown sits on your lips as your eyes advert from his face
The reality was that you were planning on cutting your hair for a while now, but the thought of Sanji disliking your new look haunted you, but you were not gonna admit that to him
One of his delicate hands reach for your braid, then travel upwards to cup your face, he smiles in pure adoration pulling at your heart strings in the most intimate melody
“I know whatever you do to your hair is gonna look smashing” a dark red creeps from your neck and warms up your face at the blonde’s touch
After Sanji’s sweet reassurance, you missed no time and that morning reached for the scissors in your drawer and just went for it. As half your braid fell to the floor you felt the biggest weight being lift from your shoulders, your locks dancing free with the ocean’s breeze
The cook walked outside the kitchen in the middle of his breakfast prep for a smoke, but his cigarette hit the floor the instant he spotted you leaning on the railing of The Sunny, he was left stunted, heart eyes following your beautiful silhouette as he rushed your way
“Stunning” his hands immediately landing on your strands, brushing them slowly and lovingly
“You were right” you smiled at him content written all over your face
“Of course I was darling, I know an angel when I see one”
Luffy’s whines of annoyance could be heard all over the ship when he found his plate empty in the kitchen and Sanji nowhere to be found, he just had to stay to admire you all morning, it was a must
#one piece#one piece x y/n#one piece x you#one piece x reader#sanji x reader#zoro x reader#law x reader#sanji fluff#sanji imagine#vinsmoke sanji x you#vinsmoke sanji x y/n#sanji x y/n#sanji x you#roronoa zoro x y/n#roronoa zoro x you#roronoa zoro x reader#zoro x y/n#zoro x you#trafalgar law x y/n#trafalgar law x you#trafalgar law x reader#law x y/n#law x you#one piece fluff#one piece imagine
384 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
amiiplz
Xiao Main ✨🌱💭
headfirst-design
Headfirst Design
coolitsriver
leave the door open
solaricstxlla
stella
panthera-tigris-venenata
Panthera Tigris