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#I also got other goodies with the boys!!!!
ingo-ingoing-ingone · 6 months
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With a wild coincidence that they arrived on the same day of my blog-iversary, I can introduce! MY BOYS!!! I am too sleepy for better pictures lol
They were designed by @cecilioque for me, who also did all the talking to the manufacturer.
Thank you SO MUCH Sunny for helping my boys become real! I adore them SO MUCH!!
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yuutryingtowrite · 2 months
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Yandere!Barista who is the “poster boy”of the coffee shop he works at. It is honestly deserved: he has a pretty face, a charming smile and a playful yet sweet attitude. He is especially popular among the girls…who he keeps rejecting. He is just not looking for something casual, you know? He dates to marry, not to be someone’s eye-candy.
Yandere!Barista who, one day, sees you walk into the store. Is that a Corroded Coffin shirt you have on ? He loves that band! This is what he tells you when it is your turn to order. What do you mean he looks too much like a goody two-shoes to be a fan? Alright, Miss “I am so dark and edgy”, what do you want to order? Black coffee? The banter goes on until he has to shoo you away, with an amused smile, as the other people in line are starting to get impatient.
Yandere!Barista who glances your way every chance he gets. Not only are you fun to talk to, but you also look really cute. Sometimes, between orders, he gets to converse with you. He eagerly returns your small wave when it is time for you to leave. As he goes to your table to collect the receipt, he finds your cup still there. On it, there is a small doodle of him along with your number. A pink hue dusts his cheeks as he brings a hand to cover the side of his face. He is definitely keeping that cup.
Yandere!Barista who saved your number under “Cutie <3”. The more you text each other, the more you hang out together, the more he becomes obsessed. It is honestly starting to scare him. The other night, he had your cup in his hands to look at the doodle. Next thing he knew, he had his lips where yours had been when you were drinking from it. It flustered him so much, he threw the cup in the trash bin afterwards…only to go get it back five minutes later…He is asking you out on a date for sure next time he sees you.
Yandere!Barista who does your coffee with trembling hands. He really doesn’t want to do this, but you didn’t leave him a choice. Today, on your usual table, you are sitting with a man other than him. He can’t possibly lose the only person who took the time to get to know him beyond his looks. The drug should work in about fifteen minutes, five minutes after closing time. This should be perfect, you always wait for him to close the shop and walk home together. He can do this, he can do this, he can do this…You will be happy at his house, you will be happy with him. It is with a heavy mind and painful heart that he gives you your order.
Yandere!Barista who you got pinned against the wall of the storage room, one hand beside his head and the other one holding your cup. He is as white as a ghost. He keeps looking around. He is sweating all over. This couldn’t be. You couldn’t possibly know- You firmly grab his jaw and turn his face towards you. “Drink”, you say coldly. What are you gonna do to him after he becomes unconscious? Will you report him to the police? Will you hurt him? He closes his eyes tightly as you bring the cup to his lips. The moment it reaches them, you drop it on the floor and replace it with your lips. His eyes open in shock as you give him a small, tender kiss. “That was my cousin, idiot”, you tell him affectionately. You look at him for a couple more seconds before putting on your bag. He is still frozen in place as you add: “Tomorrow, 6pm, at my house. Alright?”. You leave before he can answer.
Yandere!Barista who slides down the wall until he is sitting on the floor. All that is left of him is a blushing, quivering mess. With shaky fingers, he touches his lips; a small whimper involuntarily comes out his mouth. He is about to combust. He feels so weak, he can’t get up. You scared the shit out of him, but that was so hot ahh…He didn’t know you could be this assertive. And that kiss…he buries his face in his hands and groans. Kissing you is all he has ever dreamed of, yet he stayed still like a dumbass when it finally happened. He is so lame-you make him so lame. Guess tomorrow would be his chance to redeem himself.
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sqtorux · 5 months
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pretty privilege
jjk boys when they get pretty privilege right in front of you.
includes: yuji, megumi, yuta, toge and ino
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yuji: yuji is super kind and humble, also a bit oblivious when it comes to people treating him extra well or flirting with him. someone could ask him for his number and he'd probably assume this was a normal occurence because how else will you make friends without having their number at the very least right? however he isn't slow to realise that he alone was the one being approached, warmed up to and even being offered discounts for simple things and not you. he'd notice the way you'd look away and try distracting yourself while he was busy with yet another girl coming up to him. next time he promises himself not to entertain other people and politely decline them, focusing on telling you how much you mean to him instead.
megumi: megumi isn't stupid, he notices the little frown that would find itself on your pretty lips (you say otherwise but megumi thinks you're the prettiest person he has ever seen) whenever someone, yet again, comes up to him with a slightly bigger smile asking him for directions and some as far as asking him to walk them to their destination. he'd decline everytime though, of course he would. why would he entertain other people when you're right there? don't get me wrong he isn't rude, he'd show them the directions but not without pulling you closer or holding your hand a little tighter.
yuta: he'd stutter and badly too. sometimes even wanting to hide behind you when he's completely at a loss for words as the waitress offers him an extra plate of food on the house, strangely only for him. on days when he's a little bolder though, he'd accept the free gifts with a thanks and hand them to you. he'd be confused why he's being offered goodies and never you and upon explaining to him, he'd sheepishly try replicating the treatment he got saying something like “if they treat the people they find pretty like that then it's only right for me to treat you like that too, because i think you're very pretty.”
toge: we all know toge doesn't speak because of his cursed speech but his eyes do all the talking. his gaze becomes a little softer on seeing you looking down at your feet waiting for whoever approached him to go away. he isn't really registering what the other person says, his focus being all on you when suddenly he finds a phone being handed to him, the number tab open for him to put in his. he'd hold out his hand, shaking his head and point to you, pulling you closer and zipping down his jacket revealing his pretty marked mouth to place a kiss on your lips. on seeing your surprised expression his eyes turn into pretty cresents as he mutters “salmon roe” and somehow you understand everything he wants to convey to you.
ino: ino would nudge you in triumph with a smirk as the barista offers him his coffee on the house but he doesn't fail to notice the way your smile faltered a little upon hearing the offer. he'd then decline politely but when the barista insists, he pulls you closer and tells them that he comes in a pair so it's either they give you free coffee too or he pays for the both of you. and pay, he does. with your order in hand, the both of you walk out of the cafe as he brags about how pretty he is but also about how lucky he is to have someone prettier, that someone being you of course.
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included ino this time bc he's growing on me !!
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bookshelf-dust · 1 month
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something’s gotta give
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gif by @kwistowee
eddie munson x fem!reader
word count: 5,988
warnings: swearing, crude jokes, sexual innuendos, general hatred for either party, one small mention of a judgmental christian lady, depictions of an accident involving a box cutter, talk of blood and the ensuing wound, banter, both reader and eddie trying to get under each others skin, enemies to lovers trope
synopsis: eddie munson is a prick. a prick who also happens to be your coworker. you hate his guts. he hates yours. and who would think there’d be reason for anything else?
a/n: well, hello!! i’ve been working on this idea for a little bit, and it was definitely a challenge because i’ve never taken on something with this dynamic before. it was so tricky to come up with all these snarky remarks, to build up a world where it made sense. speaking of, this is without a doubt a 90s!au. i am proud of myself for trying something new and i think it turned out pretty good. shoutout to @clovermunson for listening to me vent about my struggles and helping me mold eddie into the smartass he is. also thank you to @steph-speaks for making me a cutie rb banner!! peep it at the end of the fic. happy reading!!! <333
————
“Here’s your change and…there’s your receipt.” 
You bump the cash register drawer with your hip, slamming the thick metal shut. You give a big, warm smile to the woman in front of you. She has a face full of freckles and the most beautiful silver hair that makes her blue eyes look insanely vibrant. 
She grins back at you, setting her palm on the countertop, her nails painted a pale, shimmery shade of pink. “Thank you, sweet pea. And thank you for helping me find some goodies!” She shakes her paper bag. 
You hand her a complimentary bookmark with the store name on it. “You’re so welcome. You’ll have to stop by and let me know what you think about that one!”
“Of course! You have a good day, now.”
“You too!” You give her a small wave as she walks out the door, and move to put away the store’s copy of her receipt. Your smile drops immediately when you feel a looming presence behind you. The paper in your hand gets crushed when you shove it under the counter. 
“Damn, you flick the bean this morning?” Eddie’s voice drips with malice. You know he’s wearing that sinister ass smirk before you even turn to face him. 
“Why? Need some advice on how to find it, Munson?” You grab a stack of books off the counter and slide out of the way so he can clock in. 
The sound of his boots on the carpeted floors tell you he’s following you. He always is. 
“I think it’s a valid question, princess. You’re in such a good mood it makes a guy wonder…” 
You stop in the mystery section, looking for authors with the last name beginning with ‘F,’ and begin to restock. “Well, Eddie, if I got off and that’s why I’m so bubbly today, it’s pretty clear to me that somebody gave you blue balls last night.”
He laughs, snatching a book out of your hand to put it on the top shelf when he sees you rise up on your tippy toes. It pisses you off. “Harsh, princess.”
You turn around at the sound of the doorbell, but he stops you with an arm outstretched to rest on the wall. 
You grab his hand and shove it out of your way. “I guess you should’ve put that hand to good use then and given yourself a quick, and probably little, job before you came to your real one.”
When you escape his vicinity, you look around for the customer you heard come in. There’s a young boy wandering through the back section where you sell records, tapes, CD’s, whatever the fuck. It’s Eddie’s section, and therefore not your problem. 
You hold eye contact with the man in question, giving him your bitchiest look possible. “You have a customer, Munson. And…” you glance at your watch, “I’m going on lunch.”
Eddie watches as you cross your arms and march off to the break room. His gaze falls to your ass. You’re wearing this long skirt, one that falls just above your ankles so your boots poke out. The fabric is loose and flowy, but manages to cling to your skin and he can see every curve when you walk. Every bounce of soft flesh—
“Hey, excuse me?” The voice of a boy, no more than fourteen, snaps Eddie out of his dick-controlled reverie. 
He spins around to face the kid, putting on his customer service face. “What can I do for you, little dude?”
In the break room, you stand in front of the microwave, shifting back and forth on your feet while you wait for your leftover pasta to warm up. It’s rare now for your shifts to line up with Robin’s. She is a good coworker, and you’d built up this system, this rhythm, that Eddie has never even tried to build with you. 
God, you miss her. And you fucking hate Eddie Munson. 
You pull out a chair and sink down into it, too pissed to care that you’re essentially manspreading and certainly eating like a slob. 
What angers you the most is that you tried to be friendly with Eddie when he was hired. You have seniority over him, and you were happy to help him figure out how things worked. But he didn’t give a fuck. To you, it seemed like he was too good for your help. 
But the first time you saw him ask Robin for help, you realized that he just…didn’t like you. And you don’t know why. You have always been nice to your coworkers. You have no reason not to be. Except when you get to a point that you’re forced to match their energy. 
You down the rest of your drink. You need to go out and get some fresh air, despite the fact that it’s fucking scorching outside. 
Up front, Eddie gives the young boy his receipt and a little bag full of cassette tapes, buttons, and a patch that he helped him pick out. Another child saved from the masses of pop music, he thinks. 
He taps his ringed fingers against the counter, lowering himself so that his elbows rest against the cool vinyl. Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie catches a sticky note stuck to the edge of the computer monitor. 
The store’s goal total for today is written there, penciled messily in your handwriting. Eddie rolls his eyes. Why do you always have to be on top of everything like that? You’re so fucking uptight all the time Eddie’s surprised you don’t waddle because of the stick you permanently have up your ass. 
Ever since the day he got hired a few months ago, Eddie has despised you. He remembers taking a small tour of the shop and being introduced to you where you were organizing a new shipment of magazines. 
You stood, shyly fidgeting with the pin on your fitted denim vest. You were bubbly, with these sweet little doe eyes and an expression on your face like you were hoping to make a new friend. He remembers your palm feeling unsettlingly cold when he shook your hand, and now it all makes sense to him. 
What with the way you can change moods with the drop of a pin, how you manage to bring a storm cloud with you every time you walk in his direction but have everyone else wrapped around your finger. 
A cold-blooded bitch like you must surely feed on the souls of little children every morning. 
He hates how organized you are, how prepared. How you behave all patiently when you’re with a customer who’s been a prick, even though he knows it’s all an act because you’ll give him a death glare at any given chance. 
But most of all? He hates how fucking gorgeous you are. You’d think all that hatred would make you look like an old hag, but no. Instead you walk around in your skirts that show off that perfect ass and every once in a while you wear a shirt that shows the tiniest sliver of your stomach, or in some cases, your back, if you bend over. He hates when you wear those platform boots with the heels that allow you to level with him. 
And the fact that you’re walking toward him right now. 
Eddie watches as you strip off the cropped button-up you’d been wearing, exposing your bare arms. 
There’s a tattoo running up the length of your bicep that he’s never seen before. His gaze lingers on it for long enough that you catch it and raise a brow. 
“You cry when you got that, princess?” He points to the dark ink on your skin. 
You slide behind him and sit on the stool in front of the computer. 
“No, Eddie. I fell asleep. If you want to bond about how you wailed during each of your tattoo sessions, you’ll have to talk to Brian.”
He scoffs. “Guess you can handle a little prick then, huh?”
“I work with you everyday, don’t I?” You smile, but keep your eyes on the computer screen. There’s supposed to be a new shipment of books coming today, and your boss already asked you to set up the display when it gets here. That reminds you, and you speak before Eddie can give you a smartass remark. “Eddie, there’s a box of new vinyls in the back you’re supposed to sort and put out.”
“Yeah? I’ll get right on that, mom.”
You pinch your thumb and forefinger together so that you don’t snap. It’s such a shame that such a pretty man is such a fucking asshole.
The mouse starts to feel slick from your clammy hands as you click around, trying your best to track the package. Slam!
Eddie drops the box of records on the far end of the front desk, making you jump. He grabs a box cutter and pulls open the mess of cardboard and packing tape as aggressively as possible. 
Your head snaps in his direction. “Can’t you do that anywhere else, Munson?”
“Nah, babe. My only entertainment for the day is pissin’ you off, and I just clocked in.”
You facepalm. “Jesus fucking Christ, I miss Robin.”
Eddie cups his hand around the shell of his ear. “What’s that, princess? You need Buckley, huh? Bet she puts up with your shit.”
You stand up. “More like she puts up with me talking about the shit you put me through, because you masquerade as a sweet little angel when you work with her.” You’ve moved toward the other end of the counter before you can even realize, leveling with Eddie and getting in his face.
He places both of his hands on the table, grinning like the cat that got the cream. “Maybe it’s because Robin isn’t a fucking priss, and actually has a personality.”
That hits a nerve, and Eddie catches the way your brows twitch. But your poker face doesn’t slip, not for a second. Your eyes flick to the front door. 
“You have a customer, Munson. I’ll go take care of the records. Oh, and they’re a chick. Maybe you can go see if she has a personality that’s up to your standards and get your dick wet so that there’s a slight chance you become less of a raging asshole.”
Eddie looks over his shoulder at the young woman who’s just walked through the door. She has long, dark hair and more piercings than he can count. She’s his type, and he hates that you clocked that. When he turns back to you, you’re already taking the box off the counter. 
“Oh, and Eddie? Fuck you.”
You get the vinyls sorted and put away in record time. 
————
If it’s possible, the next day is hotter than the last. You’re sweating the second you walk out of your front door, your hairline quickly dampening and your thighs sticking together on the drive to work. 
You put on the one short dress you own today, grateful for the fact that your place of occupation doesn’t have a strict dress code. It’s too hot to wear anything, but the thin, mesh-like fabric and little spaghetti straps will do just fine. 
Luckily for you, Eddie’s shift doesn’t start until one, so you’ll be able to have a chill morning where you won’t feel like blowing your own brains out. Knock on wood, but you even feel a little giddy because Robin opened, which means she’ll be there to welcome you and greet you with a bit of peace. 
You pull open the front door, and pick up speed, knowing the cool air is just within your reach. The sounds of heavy metal reach your ears before you see him. 
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” 
You consider yourself lucky that the floor is empty, because you did not consult your conscience for one second before expressing your pure annoyance that Eddie is here before he was meant to be. 
You push up your sunglasses so they’re level with your eyebrows, and take a look at the figure standing behind the counter. There is no Robin anywhere in sight. “Where is Robin? Why the fuck are you here?” You catch Eddie’s gaze drag up and down your bare legs and that good mood flies right outside the front door. 
“Why are you dressed like that?”
You let out a bitter laugh. “What’s the matter, Eddie baby? You not see a lot of shoulders in that fuck ass club of yours?”
You pull your sunglasses back down over your eyes and grin, because you’ve just seen Eddie Munson blush. That one really hit the mark, and you are immensely pleased with yourself. 
Even more so when you realize he’s following you. You start switching your hips, knowing where his gaze is. You’re not as stupid as he thinks. 
His wallet chain is jingling, his hair flying behind him as he jogs to meet you in the middle of the store. If a customer were to walk in right now, they’d see the both of you standing nose to nose, a murderous look in your eyes, and probably feel like they’d just walked in on a taping for a soap opera. 
“What do you know about my fuck ass—” He coughs, practically chokes. “W-what do you know about Hellfire?” Eddie asks. You can almost see his blood boiling. 
You put your hand on his chest. “I’m a rogue, bitch.”
The sound of your laugh reaches Eddie’s ears before he’s even registered your hand on him, your breath on his neck, and that you’ve turned around and disappeared. There’s no way you’re not a witch. Are you a witch? What does a hex feel like? 
Eddie starts walking to the stacks, suddenly encouraged to see if you carry any witchcraft-related texts. The doorbell chimes and he’s forced to spin around. 
The group of people that have just pushed through the doors is huge. At least six teenagers of varying heights, followed by four or five college-aged kids. And they all look like they’re on a mission. Two of them head straight for the records, one for the magazines, and he loses sight of the rest down the romance aisle. 
In the back, you lock up your bag and shake out your shoulders. 
Your fingers fly over the radio, quickly changing the station Eddie had chosen to one you know plays much better music. You turn the dial down a little too, having already started to feel blood leaking out of your ears. 
At the counter, Eddie watches in horror as the teenagers grab armfuls of records and CDs. What’s worse is that a family of four walk in next. An older woman walks straight up to him. “Excuse me, sir?” Sir? What is he, a fucking mummy? “Where are your bibles and Christian novels?” He catches her eyeing the ink littering his pale arms. 
“I can show you to them, ma’am. If you wanna come with me, we’ve got a whole section just for that!” Your bubbly voice meets Eddie’s ears. And so do the sounds of “There She Goes” by The La’s. 
The woman turns on you, her smile brightening, and she’s quick to follow your purposeful step. Over your shoulder, you wink at Eddie. 
He knows it’s evil. He knows he fucking hates your guts. He hates that you’ve just charmed that red flag of a woman. But he’ll be damned if he fails to admit that his zipper didn’t feel just a little tighter at that faux flirtation in your expression.
“Let me know if you need help finding anything, alright? And if we don’t have anything in stock, we can always order it for you!” 
Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes and you’re practically stomping on your way back to the counter. You use the walk to actually take in Eddie for the first time since you came in. 
He’s wearing a t-shirt that he obviously cut the sleeves off of at home, purely based on the way they’re fraying. His arms are…beefy, to say the least. His skin looks unnaturally soft, and his biceps are just so big and they look like they’re begging to be squeezed or bitten, even. 
Your eyes wander lower when he’s called over to help a child cart probably ten CDs to the counter. His jeans aren’t tight, not exactly. But they fit. He’s got more ass than most people would know what to do with. You can’t help but wonder what it looks like outside of that ratty denim. Or what else he might use that bandana for. 
You park yourself in front of the register, getting the system set up before the rush you can feel coming on. The cracks in the leather seat below you pinch your thighs, but you can’t be bothered to care. You deserve it for thinking of such a dickhead that way. Why are the gorgeous ones always assholes? 
A quick glance over your shoulder tells you that Eddie’s not helping kids anymore, but shamelessly flirting with a girl who can’t be more than twenty-one. She looks slightly intimidated by him, until he flashes his ring-covered fingers in front of her. You recognize that look, the one that tells you she might just eat him alive. 
You fear she’ll be immensely disappointed when she truly gets to meet his personality. 
In the time he’s been trying to woo this young lady, a line has formed, and now you’re stuck cashing people out. The Christian lady is first. 
“You find everything you needed today?”
She drops some change into the tip jar and takes a mint from the tray you just restocked. “Yes, I did, sweetheart, thank you for asking. You see that? Yes, that one—isn’t it gorgeous?”
She forces you to look at the fancy bible she’s picked out, and you do so despite the voice inside your head screaming for her to fucking pay already and get out because she’s been here long enough and the line is only getting longer. 
“It sure is!” You do your best to smile kindly. You hand her the receipt and a small card that not only thanks her for her purchase, but promises a ten percent discount if she comes back within the next month. 
The next customer is easy, a ten year old with a storybook that has colorable pages and a bookmark with rainbow tassels. You hand him a sticker and tell him you like his Gizmo shirt, and he beams his way out the door. 
When you are confronted with a set of parents who clearly have more kids than they seem to want, you feel a warm breath on the back of your neck. “You have a happy pill on you I can have?”
Eddie takes the stack of books out of your hands and places each one in a paper bag. The customers aren’t even looking at you, what with the husband fussing about inflation and How much for a paperback? and the toddler trying to eat the rug.
“No, sweetie,” you start, sliding the bag across the counter, hoping maybe the woman will notice and take her gaze off the street just outside the window. She takes it without looking at you, without a word, and the husband walks away mulling over the receipt, not bothering to do a headcount of kids. “I can’t keep up with your stash of boner pills.”
Eddie laughs. He tosses his head back, bearing his thick neck to you. It’s a slow sound. You can’t help but feel like it’s not something you should hear. It feels like the kind of laugh someone saves for a lover in privacy. And it’s so gravelly and deep. 
The line has slowed, and all that’s left for you to do is keep an eye out for the customers slowly making their way up front. 
You tilt your head a little in Eddie’s direction, signaling that you’re speaking to him. “You probably do need them though, based on the way you were eye-fucking that girl earlier. God knows you’re gonna need a little…happy to keep up with her.” 
Eddie bends a little at the knees, getting his head completely level with yours, his brown eyes twinkling with malice. “You think about my dick a lot, princess?”
You place your hand on the counter, less than an inch between yours and Eddie’s fingers. One move and they’d be touching. Hell, one step forward and your front would be pressed to his. “More like I worry about it,” you say. 
He quirks a brow, his lips ticking up at the corners. “Yeah? Why’s that?”
“Since I see you try and pick up a girl in the store at least three times a week and you know what? They never stick. So either it’s that you can’t get it up, or it’s that if you treated any woman as well as you treat that guitar of yours, maybe they’d be satisfied.”
Eddie takes a step forward. You’ve never been this close to him. “You know, Princess, they might not last, but based on your fucking attitude, it seems like you’re jealous.”
“Jealous?”
He pushes a strand of hair out of your face. Your blood pressure spikes. It feels like your veins are turning colors with how angry you are. Eddie has the nerve to laugh. 
“Yeah. I think all this bitchiness comes from the fact that no one will put their dick anywhere near you. They’re probably afraid you’ll make it shrivel up and die.” You don’t say anything, and he just keeps going. “Hell, I’m nice enough that I’d fuck you if that meant you’d get off my back.”
Your entire body goes rigid. And in that moment, you know that’s exactly what he wanted from you. But you refuse to give him the satisfaction. 
“Thanks for the offer, Munson. But I’d rather gouge my own fucking eyes out than let you touch me. If you wanna see me as a priss, that’s fine. But at least I’m not an insufferable prick who can’t give a damn about anyone who’s not shoved so far up my own ass and ready to fall at my feet at any given moment. Some people have to grow the fuck up.” You practically spit out the last few words, your voice laced with venom. 
Eddie blinks. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes glazed over. For the first time since he met you, he doesn’t have shit to say.
————
You and Eddie are the only ones on schedule today. 
You haven’t spoken in days, just moving around one another and doing your jobs in silence. You can’t lie about the pride you feel in your chest from having finally gotten to him. Even if the dead quiet is unsettling, you feel a sick sense of satisfaction. 
You think Eddie might’ve even mastered the art of a fake, but amiable personality. 
You’re currently hiding away in the back room, unpacking new shipments of books, vinyls, display materials, along with all the shit you actually need like paper for the register and cleaning supplies. 
Not that it matters where you are because you’ve had a total of one customer today. But that’s how Wednesday’s go. 
It’s sort of mindless, this activity. You slide the box cutter over the packing tape, rip open each box, take everything out, stomp the box flat, repeat. It’s not very stimulating, but you don’t hate it. 
The last box though is covered in enough clear tape to catch every fly in the world, and it’s taking some serious sawing to get through. You set your hand on the worn and slightly damp cardboard, bracing yourself to get one end of it loose. 
You’re just getting there when the blade finds a raindrop on the silky tape and slips free. You’re not expecting that, of course, and the blade slices the skin of your forearm quickly and thoroughly. 
You yelp, dropping the box cutter. You’re never one to wail or scream, but you let out a whimper at the shock of pain. Your non-dominant hand starts to shake as you take in the wound.
You’re too panicked to realize that your frightened exclamation could be heard up front, considering there’s no music playing and you left the receiving room’s door open. 
It doesn’t look deep enough to need stitches, but it’s bleeding. Quite a bit, actually. 
“Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.”
There are thudding footsteps, and then Eddie appears in the doorway. “Fuck fuck fuck, what? Bein’ so damn loud.” He pauses, taking in the sight before him. 
Your eyes are glazed over, your hands shaking, and you’re cupping your forearm so as to not let blood drip all over the floors. 
“Oh fuck off, I do not need this right now!” you exclaim, knowing he’s going to berate you or say something demeaning and you are not going to cry in front of him. 
Eddie says your name. 
He never says your name. It makes you look up at him, and you almost feel nauseous at the sincere look on his face. 
“Do you need me to drive you somewhere?”
You roll your eyes. “No, Eddie. I’m not fucking helpless! And I’m not bleeding out either!”
He steps towards you, his hands outstretched like he’s a ringmaster, like he’s trying to tame an apex predator. “But you are bleeding.”
“No fuckin’ shit, Sherlock—”
“Let me help you—”
You decide to shove past him, whimpering your way towards the bathroom. Eddie is on your heels. You try to shut the door in his face, but he plants his boot firmly on the floor and prevents you from it. His glare is unwavering. 
He repeats your name once more. It sends a shiver down your spine. “Just—just fucking stop for a minute, okay? Let me help you. Let me do this one thing without any of this shit, you hear me?” 
You blink. Eddie kicks the door stopper down so it stays open. His eyes flick to the toilet seat. “Sit.”
You’re too winded to say no. So you sit down, cradling your arm, while Eddie rummages around for gauze and wipes and whatever the fuck he can find because he’s not a nurse but he has had to clean himself up on more than one occasion. 
You can’t process that Eddie is treating you this way. Like a human. That he’s insisting on helping you when he doesn’t get anything out of it. 
When he returns, he settles on his knees in front of you, looking into your eyes to make sure it’s okay for him to touch you. You hate the way your stomach flips. But the little shift in your arm tells him it’s alright. 
Eddie’s fingers are cold on yours as he turns your forearm outward so he can look at the wound. You can’t help but watch as he works on you. Takes care of you. 
He sets a paper towel underneath your arm, using another to press down on your skin and make sure the bleeding has stopped. The pressure hurts, but you don’t say a word. 
Eddie hooks his foot around the corner of the trash can, pulling it closer. He throws out the bloody towel and wets another, being as gentle as he can in an effort to clean all of the dried red splotches from your skin. 
The cut isn’t deep, but it definitely nicked a few capillaries along the way. It is a little longer though, and Eddie has to use two big pieces of gauze to cover it. This is after he’d swiped your arm with alcohol wipes, grinning to himself because of how hard you were trying not to show him any weakness. 
Eddie’s thumb lingers on your skin long after he’s taped you up. You’re both silent, sitting in your shitty workplace bathroom. You can feel that he wants to say something, but you don’t know what. It’s why you haven’t gotten up yet. 
You notice his eyes on your face before you meet his gaze. “Will you look at me?” he says. Your heart jolts in your chest. 
“What for?”
“So that I can tell you why I’ve been a giant dick since I met you and you’ll see I’m being real with you.”
Your head shoots up, mainly because you can’t really believe he’s just said those words. “Hold on,” you laugh, “You’re going to explain yourself now? After I spent all that time trying to be your friend and you—”
“Treated you like shit, yeah I know.” Eddie drags his hands down his face. You’re not sure why, but you feel compelled to listen to him. “I showed up and you were there in your cute fucking skirts and you were so nice to everyone and just so…good? I couldn’t stand it.”
You blink. 
“I’m not like that. I’m not good with people and empathetic like you are and it takes me a long fucking time to do anything right. And I chose to take that out on you, to hate you, because you were so perfect, and that was easier than falling for you.”
Your mouth drops open. He what? Eddie waves his hands in your direction. 
“Close your mouth, you’re gonna catch flies. I hated that I could’ve dropped to my knees for you the second I met you. You looked at me like I was precious, like you were happy to meet someone new, and I’m such a fuck up, such a nuisance to so many people, that there was no way I was going to let a pretty girl like you befriend me and have me ruin it all. Because the truth is, I’d kill to be as fucking good as you are.”
You start shaking your head. You feel your eyes glaze over, so you look down at your freshly bandaged arm. 
“And I realize that the only reason you’re a dick to me is because I started that shit.”
You let out the barest hint of a laugh. “It’s called matching your energy. There wasn’t any point in trying to befriend you when you…hated me.”
Eddie says your name again. “I don’t hate you. I do hate myself though, and that I was so—”
“Jealous?” you interrupt, finishing for him. 
He tugs on the hair at the base of his neck. God, this is the most ridiculous fucking thing. 
“Yeah. Jealous that I don’t have as much good in me as you do. I’d see you working, see you happy to help anyone, see you pull more weight than anyone else here. I hated that you’re everything I’m not.”
When you finally look back up at him, you’ve gone all teary, and something inside Eddie breaks. It snaps. 
“We’re not supposed to be the same. If we were, nothing would ever work. You act like you’re just—just this helpless piece of shit, Eddie. You aren’t. But I can’t make you realize that. All I can do is tell you that if you want to be more charismatic—or whatever the fuck—you gotta work at it.”
He’s looking at you with his stupid ass doe eyes, and you think you finally understand him. 
“It doesn’t matter if you’re everything I am, Munson. No one else is livin’ your life for you.” You start to trail off, but not quite yet. “I wish you hadn’t been so fucking sincere so I could yell at you.”
Eddie tosses his head back, bearing his neck to you, and laughs. He raises his hands, beckoning you. “C’mon. Let me have it. You deserve it for how many times I’ve called you a priss.”
You shake out your shoulders, and if you weren’t still drained from the box cutter incident you’d jump up and hop back and forth like you’re readying to get in the ring. 
“I get it, you know? But I also don’t think it’s fair, because, and I’m gonna be honest here, the day you got hired I thought you were so gorgeous. Trust me, I was fully weak in the knees. You were also dressed like, well, you, and I wanted to at least make friends with you because you seemed, to use your words, good.”
“I heard you crack a few jokes, saw you picking up on how things worked, and then with me it was like you had this alter ego. I just don’t think it was fair that I got the short end of the stick here, even if I did enjoy being a smartass to you. So I guess what I’m really saying is, why me? Why weren’t you a dick to Robin, or Brian or fuckin’ Keith? Why not take out your jealousy on someone else?”
Eddie stands up, shoves his hands in his back pockets. “You can hit me if you feel like it, because I know this is going to sound fucked.” He pauses, and then all the words spill out at once, leaving you completely breathless when he’s finished. 
“Not only was I jealous of how perfect your soul is, but you being so sweet made me want you. I wanted you all to myself. I wanted that personality, those kind remarks, that look you get in your eye when you’re listening so well, I wanted it all around me, all the time. It felt like you were this fucking angel, I wanted to lose myself in you.”
“But it didn’t feel like I’d be worthy of you either. I figured you’d get sick of me, real quick, when you realized I wasn’t as good of a person as you. When you figured out all the shit I need to work through. It seemed easier to hate you than to have you see me the way everyone else does. Nobody wants a work in progress.”
You laugh. You take in your surroundings, still in the work bathroom, and you laugh. Eddie’s brows shoot up, and his heart drops out of his ass and onto the tile floors below him. 
“Eddie, everyone is a work in progress. And I am an extremely patient person.”
He recovers himself fast enough to make one more smartass remark. “You’re sure you don’t wanna kick me in the balls or somethin’?” 
You take a step towards him, breathing deeply. Breathing him in. 
“Not right now, Eddie. What’s frustrating though, is how much I want to kiss your dumb ass. Your annoying, over-complicating, completely ridiculous, stupid hot fucking ass.”
Eddie blinks. You might as well have kicked him in the balls because he can’t even think a single coherent thought now. Not with the way you’re pushing up onto your toes and pulling him down towards you, shaking your head so he doesn’t make up something stupid about not deserving it. 
And then your mouth is on his. Your lips are so warm, and everything else disappears. All Eddie can feel is you. Your perfume engulfs him, the heat of your chest pressed against him, the soft fat of your hip under his hand. When you pull on his hair he almost whimpers. 
You kiss hard, harder than he’d have thought, but it’s so gentle at the same time. You’re kissing him stupid. There’s no other way to put it. The only thing that pops in his head is that his suspicions about you being a witch were totally fucking spot on. 
When you finally pull away, your lips have gone all puffy, and there’s this dazed but incredibly satisfied look in your eye. He’d take you home right now and get on his knees for you if you’d let him. 
Your lips tick up at the corners, and he has to shake his head so he can really hear what you’re about to say. 
“Aren’t we on the clock, Eddie?”
————
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spencereidluver · 2 months
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M is for Merry Christmas
december 22, 2008
summary: It is the annual Christmas party hosted by Penelope at the BAU, you get a little too drunk- and in turn- a little too handsy with your shy boyfriend. He decides it's time to take you home, where he takes care of you as you sober up and deal with your hangover.
word count: 3.3k
warnings: drunk!reader, mentions of vomit and a somewhat descriptive scene of reader doing so, somewhat caregiver!spencer but not really (reader is hungover and he is just very sweet and caring) there is also sort of a brief one sided angst where reader thinks spencer is upset with them
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“Watch where you’re flinging them arms sweetheart, I’ve got papers on my desk,” Derek laughs as you very ungracefully kneel to the floor next to his desk chair. Spencer was sat in Derek’s chair, calmly taking in the atmosphere. 
“Well maybe if you did your paperwork faster you wouldn’t have to worry,” you teased, earning a laugh from your team which filled the bullpen of the BAU. 
It was the annual Christmas Party at the BAU headquarters, a tradition that started when Penelope joined the team. The team didn’t often take cases over Christmas, unless they were urgent, and this year was one of those when you had the holiday off. Penelope stocked the party with plenty of goodies, and you’ll be the first to admit, maybe you got a little too carried away with the alcohol that she had provided. But in your defense, you rarely drank. This job didn’t allow for it often. And now that you had the chance, why not take it? 
You were playing with the hem of Spencer’s charcoal gray slacks, the slacks that came up just a little too high on his lanky figure. It wasn’t too obvious when he was standing, but now that he was lounged in a chair, it was blatantly obvious his pants were a good three or four inches too short. 
Emily approaches you, handing you a glass. “Another drink, Y/N?” She asks. You take the drink. 
“Are you purposely trying to get her drunk?” Spencer questions. He reaches down to entangle his fingers in your hair. 
“Babe, ‘m not drunk!” You protest. You’re lying. 
Your words linger around Spencer’s head. Babe. You’d called him pet names before, but never so casual-like, and never had you in front of your coworkers. 
You hide your giggle into Spencer’s leg. Nothing funny happened, but you felt like laughing. You knew you were drunk. But you were having fun. You took a sip from the glass Emily had just given you.
“Y/N, you’re laughing at nothing! You can’t tell me you’re not drunk,” Spencer chuckles at you. He finds humor in your attempts to convince him and a group of profilers you weren’t wasted.
“Hey hey hey, Pretty Boy, she’s having fun, don’t rain on her parade,” Derek says.
“Yeah, Prett’boy, don’t rain on my p’rade,” you say, mocking Derek and Spencer simultaneously. You take another sip from your cup before reaching your arm up and offering it to Spencer. “Drink?”
“No, thanks,” he says, shaking his head. You shrug before chugging the rest of the cup. 
Penelope Emergers from her office, carrying a tray down the stairs. “Guess Whatttt?” She says in a sing-song voice. She rounds the corner and extends the tray out for the team to have access. “I brought shottts!”
You practically jump from your position on the floor, leaving Spencer in Derek’s chair and rushing to Penelope, well, more like the tray of drinks she was holding. 
You, Emily, and Derek surround the shot tray while Hotch and Rossi were sat observing and eating crackers from two other desks in the bullpen. With three taps of his glass on the tray, you Emily and Derek have a mouthful of vodka. There are three remaining glasses of clear liquid remaining. 
Derek takes a step away to open the view of the tray up. “Hey, do any of you guys want these?” He shouts. He was on the verge of being drunk, starting to lose control of the volume of his voice. 
“No, I’m not a big vodka drinker,” Spencer says, swiveling gently left and right in Derek’s chair. He’s not drunk, but he may be having the most fun of anyone while he’s playing in the rolly chair. 
Hotch and Rossi share a glance at each other, before Hotch speaks up. “No, you three go ahead, you seem to be enjoying yourself.”
Derek closes in the gap he’d opened, grabbing another shot glass. You and Emily follow his lead, waiting for his three taps. Your mouth burns as the liquor fills it, you’re quick to swallow before taking a sip of water as a chaser. You smack your lips, giving a three-way high-five to Emily and Derek. 
“Those are my girls,” Derek says as he pulls you and Emily into a group ‘bro hug.’
You leave the tupperware party that had formed around Penelope, walking toward Spencer, who was still spinning in the chair. 
“Hey,” you say as you approach him. You grab onto his tie, leaning forward and resting your free hand on his thigh to be face-level with him.
“H-hi, Y/n,” he chokes out, the position you’re in having made him a bit flustered. You lean in to kiss him, but your drunkenness causes you to stumble and miss his lips, leaving a big sloppy kiss on his chin. You let yourself fall into Spencer’s lap, situating yourself on his upper thigh and letting your legs fall over his lap. He wraps one arm around your waist, the other drapes over your shins and his hand holds your calf. He shoots you a worried look. “How much have you drank?”
You giggle, letting one of your hands reach around his back to fluff his hair. “Not that much,” you lie to him. 
“Y/n.” His voice is slightly stern. You begin to fiddle with the buttons on his shirt with your free hand.
“‘m fine, baby, I promise,” you say, leaning into his shoulder. He jumps slightly as the word ‘baby’ falls past your lips. He can’t help but let the smile he’s forming peek through a tiny bit. Still playing with the buttons, you manage to pop the top two open with just your fingers. You let your fingers slip beneath the fabric of his shirt and begin to trace little shapes on his bare chest. He shivers into your touch, but tries his best to hide it. 
His grip tightens a bit on your waist, fingers digging into your ribs slightly, causing you to squirm against his lap. 
“I’ve got one more round of shots for three of my favorite agents!” Penelope says as she returns from her cave once again. You look to Spencer, almost as if asking permission, before standing up and stumbling to Penelope. She was only a few feet away, but your footing was sloppy. 
You, Derek, and Emily grab the shot glasses, doing a “cheers” before pouring the liquid down your throats. Emily brings hers down with a “wooo!” sound. You and Emily sip down your chasers afterwards, but Derek has drank all his. His cup was empty.
“Hey sweetheart,” Derek says, raising his eyebrows at you, “Go grab that waterbottle off my desk, would’ya?” 
You nod at him as you once again stumble over to his desk. This time, you make your way behind the chair Spencer’s sat in, grabbing the plastic waterbottle from the corner of the desk. “Catch,” you say, throwing the bottle directly into Derek’s hand.
“Damn, girl, the NFL should’ve drafted you, not the FBI,” Emily jokes.
You turn around, leaning over the back of Derek’s chair to rest your hands on the shoulders of Spencer. You’re starting to really feel the alcohol now, your head was swirling. Spencer reaches his hand up and grabs yours, running his thumb over the back of it. You let your other hand fall downwards, grazing over his few inches of bare chest that was still exposed from the open buttons. He gently squeezed your hand. You lean down, burying your face in the crook of his neck, planting soft kisses, and letting your hands chase further down his clothed torso.
Spencer clears his throat. “Alright,” he says, standing up and sliding the chair out of the way. “It’s time I get this one home.” He grabs the small of your waist, hoisting you up and throwing you over his shoulder without so much as a grunt. Gasps were heard around the room.
“Reid, you’ve been holding out on us. If I’d have known you could lift people like that so easily I’d be sending you on tacticals instead of Morgan.” Hotch said, half joking, but still with the serious undertone he always has with his jokes. 
“Damn,” Derek gasps. “Look at those muscles.”
“Oh be serious, it’s just Y/n. She’s statistically much smaller than the average unsub.” Spencer states as he adjusts you on his shoulder. You’re face down to the ground, the blood rushing to your head. 
“Yeah, be honest guys, Spencer would get his ass kicked by a majority of those guys,” you jokingly say. 
“Not if I have my gun,” Spencer defends himself, beginning to carry you toward the door.
“Bye, Y/N!” Emily shouts, giving you a big wave that you can’t see. “I love you!”
“Don’t be too tough on her now, big guy,” Derek laughs, poking fun at him. 
“Oh shut up!” Spencer says.
“Don’t let him take me!” You beg as you watch Spencer get closer to the door step by step. “He’s ruining all the fun!”
“Bring her back!” Penelope shouts from the top of the stairs. 
“She’s had her fun, it’s way past our bedtime,” Reid says, turning around to face the team. He lifts one hand to wave goodbye, the other still holding you on his shoulder. “She’ll regret this when she’s throwing up all day tomorrow. Have a Merry Christmas, guys.” He turns and exits the building all while the team bids their farewells.
Spencer carries you the entire way from the BAU office to your car in the parking lot. You’re still slung over his shoulder as he opens the passenger door. He leans into the car and gently lets you fall into the seat. He tucks the loose strands of hair falling in your face behind your ear, then places a delicate kiss on your forehead. He buckles your seatbelt as he ducks out of the car, stopping in his tracks when he locks eyes with you. 
Your eyes have glossed over, having had the time for the alcohol in your system to have begun filtering through, a terrible hangover was building. 
“Are you alright?” He asks, leaning back into the car. You nod in response, resting against the headrest of the passenger seat. “Are you sure? You had a lot of alcohol, Y/N.”
“‘m okay,” you say, reaching a hand out to grab ahold of his forearm that was stabilizing him above the car seat. “Just got a headache.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. Let’s get you home and into bed, m’kay?” He’s gentle with you. Soft. Caring. He runs his thumb over your cheek once before closing the passenger door, making sure not to slam it as he’s sure a headache has begun to form. He was right. 
Spencer jogs quickly around the front of the car, climbing in the driver's seat and turning the key. He turns the volume on the radio down, another thing that could trigger your headache. “I’m gonna take you to my apartment, okay?” He says, placing his hand on the back of the passenger seat and looking over it to reverse out of the BAU parking lot. 
‘Does he know how attractive that is?’ You ask yourself.  
After reversing, he drops his hand down to your mid thigh and gives it a slight squeeze. You begin to doze off, the effects of the alcohol taking its toll much faster than expected.
...
You wake up in Spencer’s bed. He’s asleep beside you, arm wrapped around your waist holding you close. You’re unsure of the time. Come to think of it, you don’t even remember getting into Spencer’s bed. He must’ve carried you. 
Spencer’s apartment is hot, which is strange because he always kept the thermostat at 68, and you could hear the air conditioner running. You gently lift Spencer’s arm from you and place it down next to him, the need to escape from the heat of the blankets outweighing the comfort of his embrace. Saliva begins to coat your throat, the kind that swallowing won’t help. Oh. Oh.
You are going to puke. 
You hurriedly sit up on the bed, not giving yourself enough time for your body to stretch before jumping down and rushing into Spencer’s bathroom. You kneel in front of the toilet just in time before the contents of your stomach have become the contents of the toilet bowl. Tears well in your eyes as you struggle to catch your breath between bouts of vomiting. You’re trying not to gag, trying to be quiet, just wishing it would be over. The sound of your sickness echoes through the wall shared by the bathroom and Spencer’s bedroom, waking him from his sleep-addled mind. Spencer jumps to his feet as if his life depended on it, hurrying to the closed door to the bathroom.
“Y/n?” He called softly while pushing the door open. You’re sat on your knees in front of the toilet, pale and trembling. Once he sees you, there’s no hesitation before Spencer is knelt beside you, gathering your hair in one hand and gently scratching comforting patterns on your back with the other. Another wave of vomit hits you, leaving tears streaming down your face as you recover. 
Spencer shushes you softly, still scratching your back. “It’s okay baby, I’m right here,” he whispers at you as he wipes tears from your eyes. “You’re going to be okay, baby. Do you want me to get you some water?”
You can barely muster a nod in response, feeling a bit neglected when he gets up to go retrieve it for you. Yes, you did want water, but you also wanted Spencer. 
As soon as he leaves the bathroom, you’re hit by another round of vomiting, this time left to deal with on your own. Spencer hears you from the kitchen, causing him to rush. “I’ll be right there, Y/n,” you hear him yell from across the apartment as the bile spills past your mouth, some trickling down onto your shirt. Damn it, this was kind of a nice work shirt, and now it has hangover puke all down the front of it.
Spencer returns to the bathroom, glass of water in hand. He sees you frantically trying to pat away the vomit on your shirt with a few squares of toilet paper. He sits the glass on the edge of the counter, rushing to your aid. “Hey, let's just take this off,” he says, helping you to pull your shirt over your head. Only being left in your bra, the air is cool as it hits your bare back. It feels good. 
Spencer grabs the glass of water off the counter, handing it to you. “Here,” he says, “rinse your mouth out real quick.” You do as he says, swishing the room temperature water around in your mouth and spitting it into the toilet. Spencer fills the bathroom sink about half way full with water, then places your soiled shirt in the basin to soak. After, he returns to you, taking the glass of water from your hand and situating himself back on the floor behind you. 
You lean back against him, your back to his bare chest. You sigh, grateful beyond words for his presence, for the warmth of his touch amidst the cold grip of illness. His steady mind anchored you in the midst of discomfort. You remain there together on the floor of the small apartment bathroom for what felt like an eternity. Spencer offered you quiet words of reassurance and helped you to drink water while you struggled to regain composure. Eventually, the violent spasms of sickness subsided, leaving you exhausted and shaky in Spencer’s arms.
“Can we go back to bed?” You whisper, your voice hoarse and raw from vomiting. 
“Of course, baby, let's brush your teeth though. Vomiting exposes your teeth to the stomach’s highly erosive acids which eat away at the enamel at lightning speeds.” Spencer rambles. You groan in response, not having the energy to hold your arm up for that long. “I can help you, Sweetheart, you just got to stand up for me, ‘mkay?” You nod, struggling to your feet. Spencer picks you up bridal style, carrying you the few steps to the sink and sitting you on the counter facing him. He removes your soaked shirt from the sink and hangs it over the edge of the bathtub to drip dry. 
Spencer situates himself between your legs, takes your toothbrush from the cup and wets it, applying a swipe of toothpaste to the bristles. You part your lips as Spencer brings the toothbrush to your mouth. 
His brushing was gentle and slow, yet thorough. You rest your head against his shoulder as he does so, too weak to hold your own head up for long periods of time. He uses his left hand to cup your cheek so as to keep your head still as the toothbrush makes friction against your teeth. 
“You’re doing great, Y/n,” he says as he moves the toothbrush away from your mouth. “Need to spit?” He directs your head over the sink by your cheek, allowing you to spit the toothpaste into it. He rinses your toothbrush off and returns it to the cup, then hands you the glass of water. You drink the rest of it. 
Spencer plants a heavy kiss on your lips, your cool minty breath causing him to shiver. “Ready to go back to bed?” He asks, locking his arms around your waist and pulling you up to his chest. You nod into his shoulder and wrap your legs around his hips and arms around his neck as he carries you back into his bedroom.
He carefully lies you on the mattress, pulling the covers snug around your cold, bare torso. He joins you on the other side of the bed, climbing under the covers himself and snuggling up against you. 
“I’m sorry,” you murmur weakly as your hands explore his unclothed back. 
“Don’t be,” he replied, brushing a stray strand of hair from your forehead. “I’m glad I could be here for you. It’s my job to take care of you.”
“I shouldn’t have drank that much in the first place,” you say. “I’m sorry you had to see me like that.”
“No. You had fun, and you were in a safe environment. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying a night drinking every now and again. And each time you do, I’ll be here to take care of you afterwards.” 
“Thank you, Spence. And I’m sorry if I embarrassed you.” You’re thinking back to him in Derek’s chair, and how you were being a little too comfortable with him. You knew Spencer was shy about showing off your relationship, not because he wanted to hide you, he was proud of you. He was just new at this, he was still learning how to love you publicly. 
“No, Y/n. Don’t be sorry. It kind of made me realize I want to be able to show love for you in public too. Y/n, I love you so much. I could never be embarrassed to be loved by you.”
“I love you, Spencer. I love you so much.”
“I love you. Now, get some rest, honey. Hopefully you feel better in the morning.”
You smile into his chest, your heart swelling with love and gratitude for this man who held your hair back when you were at your worst. You could spend eternity here. In this raw, vulnerable state that made you feel at home between Spencer Reid’s arms.
_____
next chapter: N is for New Years
other parts: Spencer Reid A-Z Masterlist
view the masterlist in a calendar version! 
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a/n: i wrote this fic way faster than i thought i was going to (three days) however i am pretty confident in it. i'm really enjoying being back! i'm really hoping i am able to stay on this writing kick for a while, i'm always the happiest when i'm writing. i'm hoping to get the next part out within the next week, so stay tuned for that!
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511 notes · View notes
ghoulysaphomet · 3 months
Text
i kinda wanna write a short crack-ish time travel au where 12 year old jason swaps places with 22 year old jason bcs it'd be so fkn funny everyone would be so concerned. bcs like jaybin was not the angry kid fandom seems to think????? he was so sweet?? he listened, he was happy-go-lucky and wanted to help, found wonder in everything (robin gave him magic) and he was just so full of life and hope
so im just imagining:
titans: so hows it going with robin? you havent really talked about him or complained about his goody-two shoes sunshine-ness for a while. you good?
dick: well, uh. you see.
titans: also, who's the body-guard?
jason:
dick: so uh. this is.. future? robin..?
jason, 6'4 built like an idustrial fridge and a heavy aura of ''i can and will break your neck if you look at me the wrong way'' and voice gravelly from either the scar tissue or smoking or both: sup
titans:
titans: (just. stares. uncomprehending)
More under the cut V
just got like a funny picture in my head of like. a time travel AU where jason either swaps places with his younger self or somth idk but they're like sitting quietly eating breakfast and it's all fun and good but then a magical poof ensues and bam. adult jason is sitting there and jason is very confused bcs like yeah he was in fact sitting and about to eat but that had been at the nest with tim across him and maybe dick or damian snoring away on the couch in the next room.
meanwhile, dick and bruce and alf are all.. very confused bcs 1) baby jay just vanished. not only is the kid gone but in his place is a man who sorta looks like jay. (i headcanon jay as trans, this was before he came out.. tho i do have aus where he doesnt get to come out to anyone but tim, who makes a secret grave in his honor and doesn't out him.)
and bruce is like.
b: caroline...? is that you?
jay: (blinks) hm. congratulations, it's a boy. (jazzhands).
2. this man looks like he's seen the worst things humanity can offer, not to mention the very extensive scarring *covering every visible inch of his body* and the creepy either white eyes or green eyes.
and now he's sititng with just bruce and a very young looking dick and all of them just stare at each other and all jay can say is "fuckin' hell. seriously?" and groans bcs he did not want to deal with bruce. at all.
3. this man is not as surprised to be there as he should be.
jasons really not pleased with the situation but it is what it is and he's like just call constantine or zatanna or whatever. meanwhile everyone else is too busy staring at the fact jason, tiny jay, is taller than freakin' bruce and built like an industrial fridge (that isnt from lowes). none of them know how to feel about this
just like.
"you're.. awfully calm about this."
"eh, i've seen weirder." it is unsaid but jay is thinking of discowing.
n the three of them just has no idea how to treat this adult jason. this jason who seems.. familiar but so, so very different. obviously something must've happened bcs the guy looks like he's been in a freaking zombie apocalypse. and jays just like i cant wait to be home i hate this place, and makes the most unnerving comments here and there that just makes the others more confused. like.
"you can sleep in your old..? room. we will need to look for a change of clothes, though."
"ill use a guest room, i'm not setting a foot in that shrine."
"as you can see by this footage it's possible-"
"oh, that's not who killed him. look there, that's a falcone mark. this wasn't random but premediated."
"hm why are you even bothering with this case? listen - that's the sound of a skull being crushed, not the sound of an arm breaking, duh."
and they just get more confused and concerned
jason is a giant man made of muscle and rage and everyone is left reeling cause something happened to him, but he wont say what, and everyone keeps trying to guess and he doesnt clarify anything and obs no one is thinking "he died, got revived, turned into a zombie, pumped through HRT rage edition, becamea crime lord, was killed by his dad who chose to save his murderer, thrown into arkham by his older brother, broken out by his younger brother/boyfriend, made his own team of outlaws and put himself back together, only then starting to reconcile with some of the bats"
when they finally figure out how to get him back, someone, maybe baby timmers guesses "you were turned into a zombie" as a joke and jay finger guns him and says "yep" and then back jumps into the portal to get him back to his own time
meanwhile baby jason has the time of his life
not only is he apparently tall, *but* dick likes him?? he's apparently done a lot of good for crime alley??? he has a brother? boyfriend? both?? who looks up to him and is both very familiar yet he doesnt recognise him at all, and a younger brother who also looks up to him and is very protective and reminds him of like a small cat?????
dicks like we gotta get so many pictures of you!!! and jays like super confused but also like ok???
he can obviously tell that somethings up that theyre not telling him. but honestly the fact that it's like a decade into the future and he has so many people who loves him??? he decides its a problem for future him.
everyone is just very happy bruce is away on a mission in space.
741 notes · View notes
bambikisss · 6 months
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Freaky : C.San x S.Mingi
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💕: Rockstar Guitarist! Mingi x Model Reader x Rockstar drummer! San
📙: You were invited to Milan for fashion week and end up sitting in between two members of the world's biggest rock group ATEEZ, who also seem to have a thing for you: both of them.
⚠: Unprotected sex (keep it wrapped), threesome (mmf), Spit, oral (m + f receiving), dumbification (reader), multiple rounds, all over the hotel room lol, pink haired mingi, cocky san + mingi, mention of trying anal, mentions of voyeurism, smut with a hint of plot in the beginning
Bambi's notes: So, this was a journey to write, so you know that means smut without much plot lol this is for my sangi fans, because who wouldn't want to be sandwiched between San and Mingi?
Song: Freak - a - Leek by Petey Pablo, Slow down by Chase Atlantic
Taglist: @xhexy @mingisprincess @yeosangiess @itsvxlentine @biancaness @sanhwalvr @haebaragisworld @s-h-y-a @imgenieforyou-boy @therealcuppicake @certifiedmoa @scarfac3
@kitty4hwa @conwunder @wisejudgedragonhairdo @frobin4ever
REBLOGS + COMMENTS ARE WELCOMED AND ENCOURAGED
Milan, Italy.
You had been invited to participate in fashion week among the various other stars that attended the event. You were one of the people who reporters and other paparazzi were excited to see. You were one of the world's most popular models, after all: you were on the covers of multiple magazines and were the face of many brands.
So you were used to the flashing lights of the paparazzi and the reporters trying to pull you for an interview. You didn't mind, though, actually enjoying it.
"Y/N! Look over here please!"
You smiled, turning the other way so that the many cameras could capture your back and your face from a new angle. You were dressed to the nines and you were happy that everyone liked your outfit, especially since the designer was a good friend of yours.
You were soon escorted to your seat, having a front-row seat on the bright white runway you had grown used to walking on. You crossed your legs as you looked down at the various freebies the fashion show gave you, looking through the bright blue bag with interest in hopes of making the time flow by faster. You always found that just watching the show wasn't as interesting as walking was.
However, while you were so focused on your bag, you didn't notice the reporters and many paparazzi outside screaming and rushing at a long black limousine. The windows were darkly tinted, not allowing anyone to peek inside at the two stars who arrived. There had been rumors about two surprising stars attending the show tonight, but no one knew who. And now with the door opening, everyone got to get pictures of the stars.
"Mingi, San, can I pull you into an interview?"
San raised an eyebrow at the reporter before tapping Mingi's back, pointing to the interview area before whispering into his ear "Let's just do one interview like HongJoong said to."
Mingi rolled his eyes behind his dark sunglasses, not happy about having to do an interview. Mingi just wanted to hurry up and take pictures then get to his seat; he was all for attention and good press, but the flashing lights tonight were too much.
Mingi and San were part of the world-renowned boy band "ATEEZ," the rock band that took the world by storm almost 3 years ago. Now, they were at the top of their game, but that also meant that they had to attend events like these. Usually, HongJoong, Seonghwa, and Yeosang would go to events like these, but they all were too busy to fly out, so that left Mingi and San to go as the others were also busy.
You had just placed your bag back down underneath your chair filled with goodies when you noticed the men approaching you, their custom-tailored suits giving your mind a perfect image of what could be underneath.
While you were checking them out, San and Mingi were doing the same thing, their eyes shamelessly checking you out as they moved to their seats that were on either side of you. Even though Mingi was wearing shades and you were facing forward, you could feel their eyes on you, undressing you as the last stars took their seats. You wanted to ask them questions, but you didn't know how to take their sudden attraction to you.
"Can you three move closer for a picture?" Your mental turmoil was interrupted by the photographer who looked at you hopefully. You nodded, feeling Mingi's hand slide behind your back as he moved closer to you. You silently gasped as San did the same, both of the men's hands on your bare back, their fingers feeling anywhere they could as they smiled for the picture.
"What's your name?" Mingi was now whispering into your ear as the photographer scurried away, the lights dimming as the show was about to begin. Your first attempt at responding was cut off by your silent gasp as both men's hands slowly moved down your back, their hands now resting dangerously low on your back, a smirk moving onto their lips at the feeling of you subtly arching your back for them.
"Y/N." Your name made San whistle lowly, his voice full of charms as his hand moved up your back, allowing Mingi to touch your lower back while he got to feel your upper back, his hand playing with the clasp on your necklace as he spoke so only you, him, and Mingi could hear. "You're a supermodel, right? I've heard all about you. I think I even own some of your magazines covers. I've always found you so hot, you know."
You felt your body stiffen at his words: He already knew about you? You turned to face San, only for Mingi's hand to grasp your jaw, making you face forward again as he whispered into your ear "You can't be giving San all your attention, Beautiful. You have to share between us, do you think you can handle that?"
When Mingi first asked that question, you were quick to answer yes. You thought you could handle teasing and talking between them both. You had sat around meeting rooms and kept conversations going with multiple people, so what was so hard about keeping conversation with two men?
But, that wasn't what he meant.
"Look up at us, baby girl."
You thought nothing of hanging out with the two rock stars after the fashion show, their lingering touches on your body almost drawing you into them as they walked with you to their limousine with the tinted-out windows. The minute the doors closed, though, their hands returned to your body, not even caring about the driver as they whispered all the things they wanted to do to you, especially together. You spent one part of the car ride on Mingi's lap, meeting his lips in a heated kiss while San bit your neck, leaving marks behind while his hands felt around your body before you switched to his lap, Mingi's lips now busy kissing your open back while San's tongue locked with yours in a heated kiss. They were skilled at riling you up, as if they'd done it before. You wouldn't put it past them, though.
But, now that they had you in their private suite in their hotel on your knees before them on the bed, you felt even more excited. Mingi licked his lips, turning to face San before he nodded his head, moving to get on the bed in front of you. He tilted his head as you turned around to watch San as he sat down in the chair facing the bed, making you feel confused. However, your view of him was pulled away as Mingi made you face him, his thumb moving along your bottom lip as he shook his head. "Don't look at San, babygirl. You have to worry about me first."
You nodded as your lips met Mingi's, the kiss picking up speed as San cursed from his chair, his hand moving to his pants. You couldn't help but kiss Mingi harder at the sound of that plus San unbuckling his pants. Mingi smirked, pulling back as his hands grabbed your wrists, placing your hands onto his own belt as he faced San with a proud smirk. "Seems like our little model likes hearing you, Sannie. I think she's getting excited."
"Oh, I think so Mingi" San rested his head back on the chair with a lazy smile, his hands now palming himself over his boxers as he watched you unbuckle Mingi's pants, your hands tugging away at it. You weren't even listening anymore as you leaned down to kiss and bite on Mingi's thighs as he pushed down his pants, making him hiss before his hand moved into your hair, making you look at him. Mingi didn't say anything, his eyes however showed how he felt though, darkening as he pushed down his boxers to reveal his hard cock. Mingi's hand moved from your hair to your lips, playing around with your lips till he spread them open, spitting into your mouth before humming.
"You're so pretty, babygirl. I can see why you're a model" Your eyes fell to Mingi's lip as he spoke, whimpering softly as he kissed you, both of your tongues meeting as you moaned, making Mingi moan as well. You whined as he pulled back, wanting more of his kisses. Mingi shook his head though, sitting back up as his fist wrapped around his cock, holding it to your lips. You knew what to do, about to dip your head down to taste his hard cock when Mingi's grip on your hair returned, stopping you. Instead, Mingi stood up from the bed, pulling you to the edge before he said "Make sure you get nice and loud for us, baby girl. Show me and San how good you can suck cock, and if you do good, we'll reward you."
You nodded, opening your mouth as Mingi fed his thick cock into your mouth slowly, both of you moaning at the feeling. Mingi felt so heavy, making you feel excited: you were no virgin, but none of the guys you had been with compared to how good Mingi's cock felt, even if it was just in your mouth.
"That's it baby, suck it." Mingi's voice had dropped even deeper, closing his eyes as you moved your tongue around his cock, bobbing your head at the same time, making him moan louder. "You're doing so, so good for me. That's right, take it deeper"
"Look at you, baby" You had been so focused on sucking Mingi and hearing his moans that you had almost forgotten about San, your eyes landing on him as he spoke to you, his cock leaking now as he had stripped himself. You moaned at the sight, the vibrations making Mingi moan loudly before he reached over to smack your ass, cursing that you were doing so fucking good. San chuckled at the sight of you staring up at him while Mingi was now fucking your throat, stretching you out with his cock.
"You must be so good at sucking dick, baby. I mean, you got Mingi short-circuiting and fucking your throat like you're a fleshlight," San laughed, Mingi's cheeks heating up a bit at his friend's teasing, but his pace didn't slow down. Instead, he picked up speed, making you choke. At the sound of you gargling around his cock, both boys moaned before Mingi pulled out to let you catch your breath. However, your break wasn't long before San rolled you over onto your back, straddling your chest as Mingi moved in between your legs.
"Don't look so nervous, baby" San cooed, his hands massaging your breasts as Mingi spread your legs, making you shiver. Suddenly, you closed your eyes and tossed your head back as you felt Mingi's tongue run slowly up your pussy before he moaned around your clit, pulling back to moan "Fuck, San, she's so wet for us. She's so excited."
"You're excited, huh?" San asked, gripping your hair to pull you back up to meet his eyes while Mingi got to work on eating you out, slurping away as his tongue tasted you. You nodded, moaning at Mingi's movements while San cooed again "I bet you are, our little filthy slut. You're a freak, just like us, huh? You acted all innocent when we proposed taking us both like this in the car, but now look at you." San licked his lips as he tightened his grip on your hair, pushing his cock into your mouth as Mingi continued to eat you out, pushing his finger into you.
"Mingi's finger and tongue is going to match the pace you set, baby" San hissed, leaning back with his free hand to place it onto Mingi's shoulder. Mingi looked up from your pussy, his eyes staring into yours as you began to bob your head on San's cock, moaning when his tongue began to match your pace: anytime you sped up, he sped up, and whenever you slowed down, he did the same.
San moaned above you, enjoying the show as he kept a firm grip on your hair and a grip on Mingi's shoulder. "Look at her, Mingi, look at how fucking dirty she is for us. Fuck, I can't wait to fuck that pussy" San had now tossed his head back at this point, knowing that if he watched anymore, he'd cum on the spot. He ran a hand through his hair, pushing his cock down into your throat as deep as he could as you moaned loudly around it, Mingi's tongue mirroring San's cock by shoving his tongue as deep as he could into your pussy. Mingi rolled his eyes back, moaning as your pussy squelched around his tongue, curling his tip to nudge your sweet spot, making your legs shake a bit around him.
San couldn't think about anything else, his hand moving back to grip his pink-haired friend's hair, shoving him deeper into your pussy as you gurgled around his cock, your eyes rolling back as San sped up his pace, watching the drool leak from the side of your lips, now mixing with his cum as he came in your mouth, your legs wrapping around Mingi's head as you came as well.
Mingi cleaned you up happily while San slowly pulled out from your mouth, cooing as you swallowed his cum. Mingi slowly kissed up your body, his hands moving to massage your cheeks as San sat next to you. You felt like you were in a daze, laying your head next to San's knee while Mingi slowly got off the bed. San leaned down to kiss you, praising you for being able to take his cock so well against your lips. You smiled at his praise, moaning his name in the kiss before sitting up.
You sighed as you got off the bed, looking for your clothes while San got off the bed as well. You didn't bother to look at the two men, assuming that they were getting dressed as well. "What do you think you're doing?"
You paused picking up your dress off the ground at Mingi's voice, turning to see him standing by the large windows, his arms behind his back, his cock twitching between his legs as he raised an eyebrow. You bit your lip, noticing how San has returned to his chair, his hand now palming his soft cock. "I thought..."
"You thought wrong, baby." Mingi smirked, tapping the window before he said "I don't know what made you think that, but I still need to cum, especially in that fucking perfect pussy of yours." Mingi walked over to you as he spoke, his hand landing on the small of your back before he pulled you close, his lips pressing against yours as he pulled your clothes from your hand. You were once again at his mercy as he led you to the windows, his hands moving around your curves before he had you face the window. You met his eyes in the reflection, his chest now pressed against your back as his cock moved in between your soft thighs, a proud mumble coming out of his lips as he smacked your ass.
"Don't tease her so much, Mingi. She can barely even stand up" San piped up making Mingi chuckle. He nodded though, pressing a kiss to your cheek before he pushed into your pussy, chuckling when your hands rushed to the window. "There's nothing for you to grab on there, baby" Mingi laughed, his pace speeding up to become one of power as he watched your body jolt forward at every thrust, your sinful moans becoming music to both men's ears.
"Is our baby having trouble thinking and telling us what she wants?" San asked, standing up from his chair to approach where Mingi had you, his hands moving to play with your nipples, tugging on it. He chuckled as you moaned loudly, looking at Mingi as your back arched. "She's so fucked out already, maybe she can't handle more, Mingi"
"No, I can" You protested loudly, Mingi's hand landing a hard spank on your ass while moaning out "Yeah, she can handle more, fuck." You had closed your eyes at this point, your legs almost giving out due to the pleasure.
Mingi chuckled at the sight, pulling out from your pussy as you whined, grabbing your arms to pull you to the coffee table that sat in front of the couch that was in the corner of the suite, pressing your chest down against the cool table as he shoved his cock back into your pussy, both men moaning loudly as your pussy loudly squelched around him. "Your pussy welcomes me back in so loudly, baby. It wants my cock, baby, sucking it in so fucking well."
You nodded, San moving to crouch in front of you, smirking at your already fucked out face.
"I think she needs more, Mingi."
----------------------------------------------------------------
"God you're so fucking greedy."
You could no longer tell who was who as you laid against his hard chest, the other one still fucking deep into your pussy. You and the two men had been all around the room, your body and cum on many different surfaces, making you feel bad for whoever had to clean this room when they checked out.
San was laying against the floor, your body on top of his as Mingi fucked you from behind. You bit your lip as Mingi landed another spank on your ass, spreading apart your cheeks so he could go even deeper into you, his rings leaving imprints on you as you moaned loudly. You were out of your mind at this point, San chuckling at the sight before he said "You're so fucked out, you can't even tell who is who, can't you? You don't know whose cock you're backing up against and whose chest you're drooling onto. You just wanna keep coming until you pass out, don't you?"
"She tightened around me when you said that, San" Mingi moaned, your cheeks heating up as San cooed at you, landing his own smack to your ass as he moaned out "She's a freak, just like us. We should keep her on speed dial and fly her out to us whenever we want. We could buy you some pretty lingerie and make you model it for us. We could even invite the rest of our band members to come watch"
Mingi had lost his own mind a while ago, but at San's words, he felt his cock twitch at the idea, leaning forward to bite down on your shoulder, drilling into your pussy as you moaned even louder, San gripping your face to make you look at him while he continued speaking. "You'd love that, wouldn't you? You don't care how wrong this is, don't you, you like this. Maybe I'll even buy you a pretty custom butt plug and send it to you, make you stretch yourself out so that we both can fuck you at the same time."
"I'm gonnna...I" You gasped out, cuming hard around Mingi's cock as he filled you up, both of your releases coating his cock and leaking from your cunt as he kissed your back, rubbing your sides. You were completely spent, landing on San's hard chest as he ran his hands through your hair, cooing at you.
"You did so well, babygirl. Here, I'll clean you up." San waited till Mingi moved off your back before picking you up, carrying you to the bathroom (where they had fucked you an hour before), placing you onto the toilet before turning the shower on. "Go ahead and use the bathroom, then I'll shower with you."
After the shower, San carried you back into the bedroom, placing you down on the bed as Mingi had put down new sheets. As you lay down in the warm sheets, Mingi and San went to clean up themselves, letting you fall asleep in the bed. You only woke up when you felt Mingi hug you from behind, San slipping in front of you to offer you a smile before placing a kiss onto your lips, Mingi waiting till San stopped before moving your head back to kiss him as well.
The next morning when you woke up, you were no longer sandwiched between the two men, but you were alone. You sat up, running your hand through your hair as you tried to figure out if it was a dream or not. You sighed as you fell back against the bed, grabbing your phone to see a text from your manager letting you know that checkout was in two hours and to start getting ready to fly back to the States soon.
You hummed, giving yourself a few minutes before you stood up from the bed, walking over to your suitcase. However, before you could go shower, you heard a knock at the door, followed by room service being wheeled into your room. The table was full of various fruits and breakfast, a beautiful bouquet of flowers in the center. When you picked up the flowers, you noticed a small card, the words on it making you smile.
'See you soon, baby. We'll be waiting for you ;) P.S: Hope your legs don't hurt too badly. M + S'
EXTRA
"Raise your hips, princess. Show me where you want my cock to go" You bit your lip as you raised your hips, your wetness leaking from your pussy, making Mingi moan. He considered himself addicted to your pussy, constantly wanting nothing more than to shove his hard cock into it and just ruin you. Heck, Mingi had even flown you out over the past couple months to whereever they were performing at to just do that as 'the pictures weren't enough for him.' Not that you were complaining.
You cursed softly as Mingi pushed his cock into you, his lips meeting yours as he picked you up to have your sit on his lap as he fucked up into you, his lips locked with yours.
"I knew I'd find her in here with you" San sighed, walking into the room as you turned from Mingi's lips, offering him a smile as Mingi continued to fuck up into you as he groaned out "you're just mad that you didn't get to her first, man. You had some of her on the plane, anyways. This is my first round with her"
San hummed as he kissed you, his hand moving to play with your breasts as you began to ride Mingi's cock, making him moan louder. "I wasn't complaining, just make sure you don't ruin her too much: I wanna take her outside and fuck her in the pool."
San and Mingi had flown you out to the Bahamas for your birthday, renting a private villa so that no one could see nor hear the three of you as you all went about your ''activities" together.
You bit your lip as you placed your hands onto Mingi's chest to ride him better, San's hands moving to grip your hips to help you as you tossed your head back onto his shoulder, kissing below his jaw as Mingi moaned at the sight. "Fuck, you're going to make me cum already. You learned so quickly how to ride my cock, princess."
"Well," San smirked, meeting your lips in a deep kiss, making out with you as your ground your hips down against Mingi's, San pulling back to make you look at Mingi, gripping your face as he said "She had some really good teachers. Isn't that right, Y/N? All you care about is riding our cocks and making us feel good, don't you?"
Mingi moaned loudly as you nodded, San's smirk growing before he whispered into your ear "then go ahead and make Mingi cum, baby. Then, you're going to sit on his face and we're going to teach you how to take care of both of our cocks at the same time. We've got all week, baby to go all around this villa, and we're not stopping."
Bambikisss | 2024
898 notes · View notes
wynnyfryd · 11 months
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Trailer Park Steve AU
part 1
“Are you lost?” Munson frowns, propping his shoulder against the door frame and crossing his arms over his chest. His rings glint against his jacket sleeve; he’s got new tattoos on his fingers.
Steve’s head fills with static fuzz for a second, and he stares like a mouth-breathing idiot before helpfully answering: “Um.”
“…Right. Well, this has been weird as shit, man, but, uh— pharmacy’s closed until my uncle leaves at sundown, so…” He lifts his hand to make a shooing motion, then pauses, assessing Steve with narrowed eyes. “What are you all dressed up like a good little school boy for, anyway? Didn’t you graduate last year?”
Oh, okay. Wow. (Like, yeah, he does kinda look like some goody two-shoes freshman with Robin’s forgotten backpack hiked up way too high under his armpits, but also fuck you, dude.) Steve squares his shoulders, plasters a falsely polite smile on his face and cocks his head to the side, all innocent, like he doesn’t know, like he’s just asking, man. “Sure did. Weren’t you supposed to do that, too?”
Munson glares at him like he’s imagining doing to him what Misty did to the rat. “I really don’t want to fight this early in the morning, man.”
“I’d love to see you try,” Steve snorts. “What, Munson? You gonna beat my ass? Think you can take me? Go ahead.”
He doesn’t know why he’s egging on a fight, but he’s suddenly itching for one. Feels the urge bubbling up beneath the surface. Hot under the collar. Probably this is the part where Tommy would hold him back and tell him it isn’t worth it, man, come on, but Tommy’s not around anymore.
A lot of people aren’t around anymore.
Nobody fights for fallen kings.
So Steve bows up with a sneer and a huff, and Munson does the same, and that’s… concerning. It gets a hell of a lot more concerning when he flashes a menacing grin and claps a hand to Steve’s shoulder; gets right up in his face, nose to nose, breath sharp with spearmint to cover the scent of weed.
From Wayne’s point of view they might almost look like friends.
Steve barely hears the thwck slice past his bad ear before he feels the cold press of a blade against his throat. Pocket knife, unpocketed. Munson’s smile widens, and Steve swallows hard, feels his pulse jump against the blade, the blood rushing to his cheeks. It shouldn’t be hot. (And it isn’t, because it shouldn’t be.)
“You want to try that again?”
Munson’s voice is deadly soft, a raspy whisper that makes Steve’s hair stand on end. His eyes are huge and dark. Intense. Kind of endless.
Kind of like Nancy’s when she’s staring down a loaded gun.
Steve blinks and licks the sweat off his upper lip, fingers trembling against frayed denim where he’s got his hands raised in surrender. “We’re c-cool, man. We’re cool. My mistake.”
Munson backs off with a pleased look on his face, snaps the knife shut and tucks it back into his pocket. Soft squeak of worn leather; casual shrug. “Cool. Glad we understand each other.”
Then he scruffs Steve under the chin — patronizing and quick, this humiliating little bullshit maneuver like ‘chin up, Steve-o’ before he hops down the steps and swings himself up into his van. The tires screech in the loose gravel, and Steve just stands there and stares. Gobsmacked. Pissed off.
A little stiff in his jeans.
When he looks down there’s a black cat brushing itself against his sneakers. “Misty?” he asks.
“M’row,” says the cat.
There’s a dead bird at her feet.
part 3
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yourfatherlucifer · 11 months
Text
The Villain (HJ)
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villain!hongjoong x good girl!reader
Summary: Being the towns local good girl, you caught the eye of the towns big bad villain, and he NEEDS you. He WANTS you. So he takes what he wants.
Warnings: MDNI, EVIL JOONG IS A BIG RED FLAG, rough, getting caught, choking, pwp, mention of breeding, monster sized cock joong,
WC: 1,291
AU: hero/villain
Genre: SMUT
tags: @nebulousbrainsoup @jay-scenarios @wooyoungqueen @ad0rechuu @staytinyville @pyeonghongrie-main @yunho-mp3
nets: @cromernet @cultofdionysusnet @wonderlandnet @k-labels @kflixnet @pirateeznet
BRAIN GO BRRR, this could've been better but oh well.
Part two
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With your flowy skirts and pretty attitude, you are the town's local good girl, everyone loved you. You always helped in any way you could, which meant the towns hero, Hwa, his alias, fell in love with you. However, you also caught the eye of another, Kim Hongjoong, the villain.
He used to be a happy man, but then things started not going his way, he became a brat. He started rebelling, setting things aflame. Destroying things across town, it started out as little things, then it started to progress when Hwa started getting in his way. The two used to be friends but then Hongjoong's ways became evil. Seonghwa always got what he wanted, never Hongjoong. So, they became enemies. Trying to take each other out at any chance they got.
Trying to off each other, even pining after the same girl.
That's where you come in.
Trudging yourself across town, books in hand, a man stepped in front of you, "Oh, Seonghwa! Hi!"
Red flashed across his face, 'Hey, Y/N, I was wondering, would you maybe wanna go on a date with me on Saturday?"
You switched your heavy books to one hand to scratch the back of your neck, "I can't, I have things I have to do, Seonghwa. I'm sorry. Maybe some other time?"
He was constantly trying to woo you, but never could accomplish such an easy task. Were you playing hard to get? No..you were too sweet for that. Right?
Of course, however, despite your sweet and happy persona. You liked bad things, you loved the bad prospects, you liked bad boys. Seonghwa was just far too good for you. You could never let anyone know that though, everyone would dismiss you as the good girl.
They would wonder, 'Who could corrupt such a nice thing?'
Kim Hongjoong. That is who.
With his mean acts, his evil smirk, his pretty eyes. You fell in love with him, but alas, why would he want you? You're too nice for your own good.
You had seen him around in school before he became the villain, he was the outcast, but you liked that about him. You wanted to befriend him. Your parents and friends alike wouldn't let you. They always thought something was wrong with him. They were right. He's evil incarnate, but that made you fall harder. You yearned for him, for his touch for him to tell you all the things he would do to you.
"I see, that's alright, Y/N. I'll see you around." Seonghwa smiled and left you alone in the street.
You rolled your eyes at his goody-two-shoes attitude, yes, you were the same, but you only behaved such a way as to not disappoint your family.
Little did you know though, Hongjoong DID want you, he saw you as the girl he wanted to corrupt, he didn't know your true thoughts of course.
He thought you only want Seonghwa, even more mad that Seonghwa got what he wanted.
But he saw you. Saw you just reject Seonghwa. It nearly brought tears to his eyes. He won. He finally won.
Hongjoong watched you walk into an alley, so he followed you. He was ready to finally confront you.
As you made your way down the cramped buildings, you could hear footsteps behind you, so you quickened your pace.
"Wait! Y/N." A voice you haven't heard in years called out to you.
You turned on your heel to face him, "Hongjoong?"
He didn't smile, just nodded, "Hey. It's good to see you."
You took this time to smile, "You as well."
He stepped up closer to you and you didn't move from your spot, "I'm surprised you aren't running."
"Why would I run?"
"Cuz' I'm the villain of the town?" He tilted his head in confusion.
"Okay, and?"
Hongjoong laughed deeply, it was so attractive to you. He gave you his signature smirk, before placing his hands on your waist, he could see in your eyes that you wanted him.
He wanted you too.
"So, shall we go back to what you could say, is my evil lair?"
You laughed and nodded, "Yes, Joong, I'd love to."
--
The second you stepped into his lavish mansion, he slammed you into the wall, his lips attacking your neck. Nipping and pulling at the skin to create the biggest marks anyone has seen. Hwa will know that you are taken. He will never have you. Hongjoong will make sure of it.
He tapped your thighs for you to jump up.
He carried you through many halls, many staircases, the strength on this man was so unforgivingly hot.
The second he reached a certain room, the cold air affected your nipples. They hardened within a second.
It was in fact, his lair.
Machines lined the walls, a few couches strung about, but in the middle of the room sat a large metal slabbed table.
"Strip." He sets you down, in a demanding voice.
"Leave the skirt on."
He watched as you were about to pull off your flowy skirt.
Once you stood bare in everything but your skirt, he approached you, "Mmm, mine to corrupt."
Grabbing your chin with one hand, he forced you to face him, "I'm going to have you ruined for anyone else, Seonghwa will never want you when I am done with you." He whispered in your ear.
He backed you up into the table, the cold metal hitting your lower back. He quickly spun you around, bending you over the table.
He flipped up the back of the skirt and stared at your wet and warm cunt, "Is all this for me, my good girl?" His finger dipped into the dripping slick.
You moaned into the table, "A-all for you!" You could feel his well-hung cock against the back of your thighs through his slacks.
When he was done playing with your slick, he removed his belt before grabbing your wrists and tying them behind your back, "Good girls don't get to touch when it comes to me."
"I'm going to fuck you into next week, and that is a promise."
He ran his monster-sized cock along your folds, "I don't know if I really should give you what you want." He grinned evilly, alas you couldn't see it.
You were about to beg but before you could, he pushed his large cock inside, "Fucking god, so tight." He growled almost inhumanly.
he rubbed your asscheeks before beginning his descent into pleasure.
The table rock with each thrust his pushed into you, his free hand pushed you down further into the table to prevent any back arches or movements, "Take what I give you. No more, no less."
His harsh thrusts turned slow and soft as he flipped you around. His hand made his way to your throat. Once he made contact, he squeezed your throat hard, only enough to slightly choke you.
His hard thrusts returned, leaving bruises behind. The skin slapping and moans filled the room.
When his lips found yours, there was no love behind them. It was all just need.
"Should I knock you up? Yeah? For the town to see you get bred by the villain? No, I shouldn't. I hate children." He groaned into your ear.
"I will mark you, and feed you my cum, so you'll be dripping."
You wanted to hold him so bad, but could only wrap your legs around him to pull him closer to you.
His thrusts were beginning to turn sloppy, "Gonna fucking fill you."
"Please, just fuck me, Joong!"
The second his warm cum spilled into you, the door to his lair burst open.
Seonghwa stood there,
"What the fuck, Y/N!"
And there was Hongjoong's signature evil smirk, he got what he wanted.
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sweetiecutie · 1 year
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Ok ok listen-
teacher!valeria x student!reader🫶🫶
(I imagen her and us having "study sessions" she calls us in her classroom to talk about our grades or she calls us in her classroom so she can "help" us with something that we didnt understand 😻😻and could reader be a fem?. if u dont want to do this is ok!!🫶❤️)
Pairing: Valeria Garza x fem! Reader
Warnings: NSFW, smut, university AU!, professor/student trope, age gap implied
A/n: this is literally so sexy, I’m about to cream my fucking pants😩
Okay, so this is a university au, in which Valeria is one of the professors. I have a feeling that she would be teaching something hard and complicated - let’s say math.
Professor Garza is very strict. She’s one of the people who value discipline and order over anything else, punishing everyone who dares disturbing it. Valeria wouldn’t think twice before giving out detentions and extra work for behavior she deems unacceptable within auditorium. Chatting during her lectures? - detention. Forgetting to do homework she gave? - detention and double the amount of exercises you had to be handed over to her due to 3 pm the next day.
Many students fear Miss Garza, many hate her, many like her; but every single one has some sort of respect for her cold and stoic demeanor. Valeria is strict and demanding , but she’s also one of the bestest - many students wish to be teached by her.
And even if it seems nearly impossible, Valeria does have favorites. Very few - 3-4 students in whole university, but boy are they privileged.
Valeria values conformity over anything else. She prefers students that are polite and well-behaved, never causing any commotion or fuss. And you happened to be just that - miss goody two shoes, one of the bestest in your year, never once failing ho hand in whatever assignment Valeria gave you, no matter how complicated or cumbersome the work was.
Garza quickly caught onto your skills, and by the end of first year she already valued you over the rest of your group. Not only the brilliance of your mind, which was capable of so many amazing thing, drew her in; you’re quite a sight for sore eye as well - clothes always neat and ironed, hair framing your pretty face perfectly no matter what, light makeup only highlighting your natural beauty. Valeria couldn’t help her eyes lingering on your soft thighs whenever you decided on wearing a skirt or a dress to uni, flooding her head with images of these exact thighs spread wide before her.
It was quite a challenge for Valeria to find any mistakes in your works. You were a smart little girl, she had no doubts about it at that point. But every time, with extreme effort, professor Garza managed to find all the little flaws in your works. They did seem ridiculous tho, something other math professors wouldn’t even deem as a mistake. So first time this happened you came up to the older woman, asking about your strangely low grade; and Valeria, voice softer with feigned sympathy, patiently explained why she had to grade you so lowly. “I hope you do better next time, hm?” She’d say with a small smile, dismissing you from her classroom. Oh how the sight of your pouting lips and teary eyes got her off
As semester drew nearer to its end your works didn’t seem to improve even a slightest bit. At this point you were convinced that it was something personal - that professor Garza simply disliked you (oh if only you knew). So it was a surprise when Valeria called out for you to stay behind as everyone was leaving after the end of her lecture. You obediently descended the stairs of high auditorium, coming to her desk, standing there patiently as all the students left.
Once alone in the room, Valeria turned to face you, one hip leaning onto the edge of her working desk. Her dark eyes gazed at you from above thin lenses of her reading glasses, arms crossed over her chest making her tits perk up teasingly from within two unmade buttons of her white blouse.
“Y/n, I wanted to talk to you about your grades” she said, her voice sounding a bit softer than usual - voice she used on you only. Your body tensed slightly at her words, your fingers gripping your books more tightly as you looked at her tentatively.
“I made a small research on your academic performance and it seems that you only struggle with my subject. Is there any particular reason to this?” She asked, concern lacing her words.
You bit your tongue, fighting back bitter words of indignation - it was Valeria’s fault only that your grades in math were so low. But you kept silent, gazing dully onto the floor under your feet. Professor Garza heaved a heavy sigh, her heart thrumming loudly within her chest at what she was about to do.
“Y/n, you’re a very smart girl, and I don’t want you to ruin your record because of arithmetics. I can give you some extra credit” she said calmly, your ears perking up at her words.
You looked up at the older woman, obviously surprised - Valeria never gave extra credit, no matter the circumstances. You blinked rapidly a few times - you won’t lose such an opportunity, you’d be a fool if you did.
“Sure, I’d be very grateful!” You said quickly, looking at Valeria with wide eager eyes.
She only smiled at your words, nodding for you to come closer. As you did, she took your books and notes out of your hands, placing them on the faraway side of her desk. “You won’t need these”
As you were going to ask what she meant her warm hand clasped around the back of your neck, slamming you against her desk. With a small squeak you were bent over the table, your cheek squished against some papers scattered on top of it. You felt Valeria’s hot chest pressing against your back, her free hand glided up and down the side of your hip as she whispered into your ear “Now I need you to be a good little girl and spread your legs wider”
And you did. Arousal pooled in the pit of your stomach, making your knees go weak as Valeria’s hand slipped in between your soft thighs - just like she always dreamed of, massaging your soft pussy through thin material of your panties.
Soon enough these same panties were shoved into your mouth to muffle all desperate cries tearing through your chest as to not disturb other professors in nearby auditoriums; three of Valeria’s long fingers fucked in and out of your drooling pussy with loud squelching sounds, her fingertips grazing that one spot deep within you, making your eyes roll and toes curl.
You exited professor Garza’s auditorium on trembling legs, your makeup and hair unnaturally messy, eyes unfocused and bleary but - most importantly - with impeccable record on arithmetics.
But to keep your math performance this way, you had to visit professor Garza some more for extracurricular activities <3
Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Writers live off feedback, give us some love<3
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dreamcubed · 5 months
Text
...ready for it? | mattheo riddle x reader
song; ...ready for it? [taylor swift] pairing; mattheo riddle x fem!muggle-born!reader genre; fake dating, s2l, fluff, smut word count; 5,3k timeline; subsidiary 8th year warnings; swearing, references to alcohol/drugs/smoking, violence, blood and injury, piv sex, unprotected sex, fingering, discrimination (of muggle-borns) summary; following the war, mattheo is suffocated by the association with his father, and decides there is only one way to make people see that he is nothing like him. you, on the other hand, want to prove to people that, in the year you've been in hiding, you have changed from the naïve goody-two-shoes you once were
screaming crying throwing up at how good tortured poets department is
masterlist
"in the middle of the night, in my dreams, you should see the things we do."
————————————————
The rumours followed Mattheo Riddle like hitmen— praying for his downfall, never leaving him alone, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. To many, it was obvious what he was before even meeting him. Evidently, the son of the Dark Lord was every bit as bad as his father, would fill his shoes now that he was dead, that there would be a Third Wizarding War with Mattheo at the very centre of it. Never mind that he hardly knew his father, that Voldemort had been gone for almost his entire childhood.
After the final demise of the Dark Lord, and Mattheo had elected to return to Hogwarts for the subsidiary eighth year, his reputation built on gossip and assumptions had only gotten worse. It hadn't helped that he now bore the dark mark on his left forearm, and he had tried to explain that his father had forced him to take it, that he would have hurt him in unthinkable ways if he didn't, but no one listened. No one cared. He still had his friends, but his association with them didn't help, as most of them were pure-blooded Slytherins whose families were death eaters.
But without them he would have nothing.
He didn't understand— no one was nearly as mad at Draco for walking over to the Dark Lord at the final battle as they were at him for simply possessing some of his DNA. It made him resent his cousin, but he knew he couldn't blame him. He had been every bit as coerced into the death eater cult as him: threatened with the deaths of them and their families.
Muggle-borns and the majority of the half-bloods avoided him like the plague; even some pure-bloods, who were far more politically correct, looked at him with distaste in their eyes. Mattheo wanted to scream to the whole world that he wasn't his father and didn't give a single fuck about blood purity. But who would listen? They would see that he was screaming and immediately associate his anger with the desire to start a war.
You, on the other hand, also couldn't escape your reputation. Prior to the war, you had been known as a goody-two-shoes, called uptight, boring, a smartass. While in hiding throughout seventh year, you had shed any resemblance you had to such an identity, but despite appearing and acting completely differently now you had returned for the subsidiary eighth year, your peers still treated you like a naïve and overly innocent child. Bullied you, even, in some more extreme cases. They viewed you as socially inept, sexually unaware, scared of alcohol, smoking and drugs.
They wouldn't listen when you told them that you had changed— so, there you found yourself, in a Saturday detention after doing something incredibly stupid to get people to stop seeing you that way. The stupid thing in question? You had let yourself get caught being outside of your house quarters after curfew. It was pathetic, and an admittedly idiotic thing to do just for the sake of changing your reputation, but there you were.
Worst thing was it hadn't even worked.
"I bet she had a panic attack," a Ravenclaw girl had giggled.
"She definitely got on her knees and started begging for the professor to show mercy," a Hufflepuff boy had laughed.
They still saw you as pathetic and helpless: a certified teacher's pet.
"Miss L/N, you'll be serving detention with Mr Riddle today," Professor McGonagall spoke, snapping you out of your self-pitying thoughts, "Your task will be to clean every cauldron here in the potions classroom— by hand, no magic— until they are gleaming."
You glanced over to your right to see that Mattheo Riddle was indeed sat there: he must have snuck in while you were deep in thought. It was just your luck, that your weak attempt would have the worst possible consequences— being stuck in detention with the Dark Lord's son as a muggle-born.
"I will check on you both periodically." The headmistress then departed, but not before saying to you, "I'm disappointed in you, Miss L/N."
Even your professors still saw you as naïve. It made you angry.
Mattheo watched you curiously as you stormed over to the big stack of cauldrons and roughly grabbed one, slamming it down on the floor and grabbing the muggle cleaning supplies left out. You started scrubbing in such an anger-fuelled rigorous manner that he almost forgot that he was supposed to be helping you.
"You gonna help or not?" you snapped.
His eyes widened, and he couldn't stop a smirk from gracing his lips, "Never thought I'd see the day where goody-two-shoes L/N is in detention and yells at me."
"Would people stop fucking saying that?" you said all too loud, "I hate it. I fucking hate it."
"Hate what?" Mattheo asked delicately, standing up and walking over to grab a cauldron from the pile.
"Being called a goody-two-shoes like I'm some kind of child," you scowled, "I'm sick of being treated like I've never even had a sip of alcohol."
This was the first time since before the war that a muggle-born had even entertained having a full conversation with Mattheo, even if you were filled with rage throughout it. Because of that, he decided that he needed to calm you down and make you actually like him— association with a muggle-born could completely transform his reputation.
"I'm sorry," he said delicately, the words foreign to him, "I didn't realise it hurt you so much."
You stopped scrubbing the cauldron to look up at him with shock evident on your face: had the son of Voldemort just apologised to you? He had to be mocking you, there was no way he wasn't. "You're making fun of me," you said cautiously.
"I'm not, I swear," he held his hands up in surrender, "I know all too well what it's like to not be able to escape a reputation."
"Aren't you in here for getting into a fight?" you raised an eyebrow curiously.
He nodded grimly, "Guy wouldn't stop saying I'm exactly like my father."
And that was when your opinion of Mattheo began to soften, and you started to feel bad for assuming he hated muggle-borns simply because of who his father was. But he did have the Dark Mark.
"If you're not like him, why did you get that?" you gestured towards his left arm, which was covered but everyone knew what sat there.
Mattheo drew back, "He was responsible for genocide, do you really think he was beyond threatening me if I didn't take it?" His words were cold, and angry.
"Sorry," you mumbled, regretting asking such a personal question when you hardly knew him.
Silence fell upon you both for a couple minutes as you polished away at the cauldrons.
"For the record, I didn't ever think you'd only had a sip of alcohol."
You quirked an eyebrow at him, "No?"
He shrugged, "Everyone gets drunk. I just thought you only did it outside of school."
A small smile crept on to your face, "Thank you, mind telling everyone else that?"
"Sure."
You had said it as a joke— you didn't expect him to be so agreeable. "Really?"
He nodded.
"Oh, God, now I feel so bad."
"Why?" Mattheo asked, finding your muggle-speaking mannerisms endearing.
"Because I believed your reputation."
"You don't anymore?"
You shook your head, "This is the first time someone's ever treated me my age."
He tilted his head curiously, "You know, I think we might be able to help each other's reputations."
"You do?"
"Think about it," he shifted closer to you, "People think I hate muggle-borns, you're a muggle-born. People think you're an innocent goody-two-shoes, I'm known for being quite the opposite."
"So...?"
"We date."
Your brain short circuited and you dropped your cloth into the cauldron, "We... date?"
"Not for real," he clarified, "Just until people's views of us are changed."
You thought it over. It was true: no one would think of Mattheo as like his father if he was willingly in a relationship with a muggle-born, and no real goody-two-shoes would date bad boy Mattheo Riddle.
"Okay," you said, holding out your hand, "Let's do it."
The boy smirked, taking your hand, "Perfect."
***
When you arrived at dinner that evening, after a long few hours of cleaning cauldrons until they glistened, it was hand in hand. He squeezed your palm softly as watchful eyes observed the two of you together, and he even tugged you over to the Slytherin table, making you give him a worried look.
"They'll be civil," he leaned down to whisper in your ear. You nodded nervously.
All of his friends were in silence as they watched you take a seat next to Mattheo, and their jaws almost dropped when he began dishing food on to your plate first. You felt embarrassed under their gaze, but you didn't let it show, thanking Mattheo once your plate was full. He gave you a soft smile that you had never seen grace his face before— not that you had ever been close enough to him to see it.
One of his friends, Blaise Zabini, cleared his throat and broke the silence, "So, uh, are you two a thing?"
"Yeah," your 'boyfriend' replied.
"I didn't even know you were courting," Blaise stated simply, clearly suspicious.
"There's a lot of things you don't know," Mattheo said vaguely, "Can't a man have some secrets?"
Silence fell once more.
"Do any of you have a problem?" he asked, the slightest hint of anger lacing his tone.
They all immediately shook their heads.
"Good."
Despite Mattheo's friends being remarkably docile towards you, you could still feel the stare of other people littered around the room. It was quite a shock, you supposed, as you two were probably the last couple anyone would have expected. Regardless, they should really learn to mind their business— if they did, you wouldn't have to be doing a whole fake dating scheme in the first place.
***
Mattheo walked you to class, held your hand in the corridors, and even carried your books for you wherever you went. Stares continued to follow, but people no longer called you a goody-two-shoes: no, instead when you overheard people ask about you, they said "she's Riddle's girl" instead. You would prefer to be thought of as your own person, but it was certainly a step up from the reputation that you were so sick of. That, and Mattheo had informed you that muggle-borns were no longer avoiding him like the plague, even occasionally nodding at him in the hallways. All around, the plan was working.
No one knew that your dating scheme was fake apart from the two of you, even his friends believed it— and, despite your blood status, they were beginning to warm up to you. Pansy especially, and you were grateful to finally have someone that you could consider a friend.
One chilly Tuesday morning, when Mattheo was walking you to your ancient runes lesson, there was another girl in your class being 'dropped off' by her boyfriend. You both watched as he leaned down to peck her lips before leaving, and you didn't think anything of it until you reached the door and Mattheo leaned down to press a soft kiss on your lips. Taken aback, your ears heated up, and you felt shy as he smirked at you.
"What was that for?" you whispered.
The man before you shrugged, "He did it. Can't have people knowing the truth about us."
"They have no reason to suspect it," you grumbled, but you couldn't deny the butterflies swarming around your stomach.
"Better safe than sorry," he grinned cheekily, "I'll see you later, doll, yeah?"
You nodded, caught off guard when he kissed you yet again.
You were in a daze when you entered the classroom, and you knew that everyone could guess why there was a smile plastered on your face. You felt like a lovesick fool, when you weren't even in love.
***
Mattheo had insisted that people would question the validity of your relationship if you didn't go on Hogsmeade dates together: every Hogwarts couple went on dates to Hogsmeade. You had reminded him that people had no reason to question whether or not your relationship was fake, but he had once again shrugged and said, "Better safe than sorry." Not that you minded, of course, you had always wanted to participate in the Hogsmeade dating tradition. Although, it did make you wonder how long this dating scheme would go on for, as Mattheo's reputation was essentially already completely transformed.
"Can we go in Honeydukes?" you asked as Mattheo, like the gentleman he apparently was, helped you down from the carriage.
"Of course," he smiled, not letting your hand go, "Wherever you want, doll."
Your stomach flipped, but there remained an itching notion in the back of your head. It was fake: it was all fake. He was only being so gentlemanly and caring to prove to the school that not only did he not share his father's views on muggle-borns, but that he could dote on one like it was his life's purpose. All he wanted was to no longer be seen as the devil's incarnate, so he presented himself as an angel. But, when he looked at you with that smirk and that glint in his eyes, it would feel real— just for the briefest moment. No one had ever been romantically interested in you before, maybe that's why you felt his actions deep in your core.
"Hello? Y/N?" his voice snapped you out of your drifting thoughts, and you realised that he was talking to you.
"Hm?"
"Thought I'd lost you there," he chuckled, "C'mon, doll— Honeydukes, remember?"
"Yeah, sorry," you looked down abashedly, and his grip on your hand tightened.
"Sometime this year, if that's okay with you."
***
Mattheo's ring-clad hands left a cool trail against your blazing skin, setting your insides alight as you felt wetness pool at your core. He had his signature smirk settled on his face, the smooth curve of his pink lips sending sparks throughout your body. The hazed look in his dark eyes likely mirrored the one in yours— you were getting desperate, revelling in the way he stared at your tits.
"Please, Matty," you murmured, begging for something, anything.
His sinister chuckle made your senses twitch and tingle. "Please what? What do you want, doll?"
"You," you said thoughtlessly, reaching your hands up to grasp on to his shirt.
"I'm all yours," he whispered, his hand trailing down to the inside of your shorts and panties. When he finally made contact with your slick entrance, your hips bucked up, grateful to have finally received some amount of stimulation. "You're so wet for me."
You hummed as he began tracing circles on your clit, forcing out a moaned, "Only for you."
He applied more pressure, making you grasp on to the bedsheets for dear life, unable to physically comprehend the magic feel of his calloused fingertips. The smirk on his face returned as he watched you writhe beneath him, and you felt your peak approaching faster than you had imagined was possible. Everything about it felt so right, so perfect, so erotic.
"You gonna come for me, angel?" he asked, his eyes locked on to yours.
You nodded.
"Then come."
And just as you felt your muscles begin to tighten and the pleasure begin to climax, the moment was cut short.
***
You were in bed, that much was still the same, but there was no sign of a Slytherin descendant anywhere in your vicinity, and your tits were not out in the open, being enclosed within your large pyjama shirt. You groaned, feeling the pool of wetness between your legs, but being unable to do anything about it due to your shared dormitory situation. Fuck, Mattheo wasn't even your real boyfriend, and you had just had a godly wet dream about him that lit a match in your soul.
How could you face him after picturing him in such an intimate situation? How could you pretend like you were okay with the surface-level falseness of your façade? He was your doom's day: you could feel it. You should never have agreed to a fake relationship, and remained begrudgingly within your outdated reputation.
Reluctantly, you peeled the covers off of your sweating body, and made your way to the showers.
***
Avoiding him was just as impossible as being around him. For one, you couldn't risk people questioning the stability or realness of your relationship. For two, the second you entered the Great Hall for breakfast, he was beckoning you over to where his friends were. And you couldn't very well ignore him when he had done absolutely nothing wrong.
"Hey, doll," he greeted you, pecking your cheek in the process. The very action made the flame burn brighter.
"Hi," you all but squeaked, focusing your attention on taking some waffles.
"We were just discussing the next quidditch game."
"It's a guaranteed win for Slytherin," Zabini smirked, knowing full well that the team that they would be playing against was your house's.
You scrunched up your nose, "I wouldn't be so sure."
"Are you not even gonna wear my jumper during the game?" Mattheo asked, sending yet another sparking bolt straight through your veins. You could feel your body heating up just by being in his presence.
"Against any other house I would, but I have to draw the line somewhere," you said, hoping your voice sounded completely normal and not at all like you craved his naked form. Unfortunately, the appeal of wearing a clothing item that would have his scent woven into its fabric was not helping your case.
"Pity," he grumbled.
Thankfully, Zabini challenging your opinion that Slytherin wasn't guaranteed to win led to a wonderfully distracting argument with the rest of the Slytherin boys. Not only was it a distraction, but it also made you feel as if they saw you as an equal, not just as a muggle-born, but in age and lack of innocence as well. It was a stupid notion, but it was the kind of treatment that you had desired for so long.
"I can't stand this quidditch talk any longer," Pansy finally said, having remained quiet for the majority of the conversation, "Y/N, wanna get away from the men?"
"Please," you murmured, grateful to escape the intoxicating presence of Mattheo.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
Pansy shook her head as she stood up, "Anywhere but here. The girls' toilets if it means getting away from you all."
You giggled, going to stand up. You felt Mattheo's hand grasp your wrist, giving way to tingly sensations reminiscent of last night's dream.
"I'll see you later, yeah?"
"Of course," you nearly stuttered, "We have defence against the dark arts."
He nodded, letting go of your wrist, before saying to Pansy, "Don't keep her too long."
"Calm down, lover boy," she retorted, linking arms with you as you began to walk off.
The last thing you heard from the Slytherin boys was Berkshire saying to Mattheo, "You're pussy-whipped, mate."
Oh, how you wished he was.
***
"I don't know how you managed to lock down prince of the fuckboys Mattheo," Pansy spoke as you both entered the girls' toilets, "And I do see the way he looks at you-"
"The way he looks at me?"
She nodded, "Like you're the only girl in the room— but, please be careful. I don't want you getting hurt."
You knew that it was too late for that, as you had caught feelings in a fake relationship, and it was killing you inside that you couldn't tell anyone about it. All you could do was agree with Pansy. "Thank you for your concern, I appreciate it."
"Of course, we're friends," Pansy smiled, "And I love Mattheo dearly as a friend, but I know his history when it comes to romance and sex."
"People change," you murmured, just loud enough for her to hear.
"That they do," she agreed, "But just be sure of Mattheo's change before you fall madly in love with him."
Somehow you feared it was too late for that.
***
During defence against the dark arts— a theory lesson, unfortunately— you found your seat next to Mattheo as you let Pansy's words mull over you. The anxious pondering that you were in too deep caused you to start nervously bouncing your leg up and down. It was an action that did not go unnoticed by Mattheo, who furrowed his eyebrows at your behaviour. Gently, he placed his hand on your thigh and watched as you froze up at the contact.
Because, little did he know, the simple act of a touch so close to your core sent tingling flashbacks of your dream of him flooding through your veins. Your skin became ablaze with desire, and long gone was the obsessive overthinking about what Pansy had said to you. You sucked in a shallow breath, gripping your quill tightly as you glanced towards Mattheo who was now looking at you with thrice the concern than he was earlier.
"You okay?" he whispered.
You gulped and nodded, but it was clear that he didn't believe you. He squeezed your thigh gently, and you swore that your brain nearly short-circuited— yet you didn't want to push his hand off. This moment was so far removed from the fake external image of your relationship that you temporarily forgot all of your concerns. No one could see where his hand was: it served no purpose towards your reputation as a couple.
Merlin knows you would never be able to recall the content of that lesson.
***
One breezy autumnal afternoon and you were walking down the hallway, hand in hand with Mattheo and giggling about this and that. You had finally pushed Pansy's warning to the very back of your mind, and allowed yourself to almost fully immerse yourself in the moment with your so-called boyfriend. The interlocked nature of your hands felt natural as you paid no mind to bystanders.
That was, until, the unmistakable word of mudblood passed through your ears from the direction of a seventh year Slytherin, who evidently disapproved of your newfound association with the house. It was annoying, really, how your ears always tuned into that word no matter how distracted you were. You paused in your movements and stared at him: you were no longer timid, nor a push-over. Mattheo looked confusedly at you and where you were looking.
"What are you looking at, mudblood?" the seventh year sneered at you, and before you could even say anything, Mattheo's hand had let go of yours.
And he had barrelled right into the boy, throwing merciless punches as his face went stone cold. "Do you wanna say that again, hm?" he spat, landing another solid hit, "Don't ever fucking talk about my girlfriend like that."
You stared in shock at the brawl, feeling a whole wave of mixed emotions— Mattheo was defending you, and by God did he look fucking hot doing it. But, also, you really should break up the fight before he committed manslaughter.
"Mattheo," you said softly, but he didn't hear you, so you said louder and more sternly, "Mattheo."
His movements ceased and he resorted to staring down at the boy who now groaned in pain, covered in blood and already darkening bruises.
"This was a warning," he said carefully, "Next time I won't stop."
You shook your head, grabbing his bicep to pull him off the boy for good and dragging him away. It was lucky there hadn't been a professor around, but they would probably still find out one way or another and Mattheo would get punished. For now, however, he was yours to deal with.
"I can fight my own battles," you bit off, but there wasn't any real malice in your tone.
"I know," he said simply.
You sighed and rolled your eyes, "Thank you, though, for defending me."
"Of course. No one belittles my girl."
Your heart flipped— there was nobody around, there was no reason for him to say that. Deciding to focus your attention in order to ignore the thumping of your heart, you analysed his hands. "We need to get you cleaned up."
"It's just a little blood," he shrugged.
"A little is still too much. C'mon."
You dragged him to the abandoned girls' toilets, where Moaning Myrtle resided, and ran some toilet paper (which had probably been there for decades) under the tap. As you began delicately wiping down the injuries, Mattheo watched you with intrigue, admiring your attention to detail. Little did he know, you were simply trying to stop yourself from replaying the sexiest image you had ever scene in your life inside your head. You felt as if you were about to burst into flames.
Once you were finally done, you chucked the toilet paper into a toilet and re-emerged from the cubicle, making eye contact with the man leaning against the sinks. Moaning Myrtle seemed to be nowhere in sight.
Which was a good thing, because the tension in the air was thick— thicker than blood. You bit your lip as Mattheo's eyes raked down your body and drank you in. Under his gaze, you felt purely animalistic: beauty didn't matter, intelligence didn't matter... all that mattered was skin on skin and bodies becoming one. But, when it became clear no one was going to make a move, you said, "Pansy warned me about you."
"In what way?" he smirked.
"That I shouldn't get in too deep with the prince of fuckboys until I'm sure you've changed."
"And do you think I've changed?"
"What does it matter? We're not actually together."
A flash of hurt coursed through Mattheo at the reminder, but he remained stoic and said, "That's not what I asked, is it?"
You stared at him blankly.
"Do you think I've changed?" he repeated.
You said nothing.
"Because I think I've changed," he stepped closer to you, "So, I'll ask you one more time, do you think I've changed?"
"Yes," you replied feebly.
"My friends think I've changed," he continued, "They think I'm pussy-whipped."
You felt bold for the briefest moment, and asked, "Are you?"
He shrugged, leaning his face down until it was inches from yours, "I don't know yet. Guess we'll have to find out."
And then his lips were on yours in a passionate frenzy. None of those pecks he had given you in greeting and goodbye: no, this was a real kiss, one that had the fire in your heart dancing erratically. You pulled away, breathless, to see that Mattheo was looking at you with hazy dark eyes.
"Was that real?" you asked.
"Well, it happened, didn't it?"
You shook your head, "I mean, was it real?"
A smirk tugged on his lips, "No one was here to see, sweetheart."
And that was all the confirmation you needed to kiss him again, sliding your tongue along his lips as he grabbed your ass, squeezing and groaning. You felt electric, alive— transcendent. His mouth moved from your lips, to along your jaw, to your neck. He sucked and licked in a way that had you letting out a gasp, melting under his touch.
"You're my nicotine," he mumbled, slipping a hand under your skirt and pushing you back against the wall.
You moaned as his fingers glided over your clit.
"You like that, doll?"
Helplessly, you nodded, your legs buckling as he applied more pressure and more vigour.
"Mhm, that's my girl," he murmured, bringing you quicker to your release than you had ever been able to manage yourself.
"Fuck, Matty, I'm gonna come," you gasped out, hips bucking up as you leaned against the tiled wall.
He chuckled as you rode out your high, the slickness of your pussy creating a squelching sound throughout the acoustics of the massive vacant toilets.
"I hate it when my friends call me that," he muttered, pulling his fingers out from under your skirt.
Your ears heated up even more— if that was possible— and you quickly rushed out a, "Sorry."
"Don't be," he kissed your lips softly, "I like it when you say it."
Your lips curved into a shy smile.
"Do you mind if we deal with a certain problem?" he asked, gesturing to the tent in his trousers that had more slick leaking from you at the sight of.
"Of course," you said slyly, a new wave of confidence rushing over you. Slowly, you walked around him and sauntered over to the sinks, pulling your tights and panties down as you leaned forward and lifted up your skirt.
"Fuck," you heard him curse, "You really have changed."
And then he was behind you, as suggested by the sound of a zipper so close to you, and the fact you could see him in the mirror. You watched as he pulled out his dick, which was thick and long, making your mouth water as he lined himself up with your entrance.
"Are you sure?" he questioned, not sure if he could take any answer but 'yes'.
You bobbed your head, "Fuck me, Matty."
"As you wish, doll." And then he was inside you, filling you to the brim and making you feel as if you were finally whole.
"Fuck," you gasped, clutching the edge of the sink as he began thrusting, your eyes tightly shut.
"Look at me."
You opened your eyes, making eye contact with him in the looking glass. Sweat was gathered on his brow, and his hands were tightly on your hips— you felt so close to him, in such a real and authentic way that had your soul burning.
One of his hands moved, retreating out of your view, but you knew exactly where it went when you felt a jolt of pleasure shooting through you. He rubbed circles that had you seeing stars, your moans and curses pushing Mattheo close to the edge along with the pure ecstasy of how you felt around him. He didn't think he had ever been so vocal during sex before, but with you, everything felt brand new. Finally, Mattheo felt like he belonged somewhere, felt like he was nothing like his father— but he had no place in his thoughts at that moment. Instead, he focused on you and the clothed curves of your body, until he was about to explode.
"Can I come inside you?" he panted.
In a sex haze, you moaned, "Yes."
And then his release hit, the throbbing of his dick pushing you to your second orgasm as his movements became sloppy. Eventually, once your highs had been ridden through, he stopped moving, the only sounds remaining being the ones of heavy breathing. When he had pulled out, and you had both cleaned up and done up your clothes, you gave him a teasing smile.
"Are we real now?"
He chuckled, "This was never fake. Not to me."
"Well, then, boyfriend," you smirked, "Better scurry on and get me a Plan B potion."
He pressed a kiss to your lips, "Yes, ma'am."
And he took your hand in his.
———————————————
masterlist
written; 10/04/2024 —> 25/04/2024 published; 25/04/2024 edited; —/—/——
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withloveajaxx · 2 years
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forgetting your wallet
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𓂅 genre: childe, diluc, zhongli, xiao x gn! reader
𓂅 warnings: none
𓂅 summary: how they react when you go shopping and tell then you forgot your wallet
𓂅 note: eyyy it's rich boys ft. zhongli n xiao 😎 anyways as you can see below,,, there's going to be other version of this fic featuring different fandoms/characters i've been thinking about writing for for a while now!! i hope it won't be weird seeing me post something other than genshin content 💀 if you think i should make separate blogs for separate fandoms just lmk hehe. ALSO!! got inspo from those couple vids of "telling my bf i forgot my wallet" trend on tiktok :"D. OKAY ENOUGH OF MY RAMBLING PLS ENJOY THIS FIC N HAVE A GREAT DAY MWAH 🫶
[VALORANT VER.] [HAIKYUU!! VER.]
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CHILDE
literally offended™️ like what? what do you mean you expected him to let you pay for shit?
the moment you enter a clothing store, he's looking at you with a completely lovesick gaze, watching as you scan through the various clothing items.
willingly holds the shopping basket for you as you pick out an item or two, turning them to check their prices.
he sees you reach in your bag, eventually frowning and putting the items back. he's confused at first, catching your wrist before you can hang the clothes back on the rack.
"why're you putting them back? they'd look so good on you," he comments, a puzzled frown making its way to his face.
"i forgot my wallet," you admit sheepishly, giving him a bashful smile. "it's fine though. i'll come back and–"
"you expected me to let you pay?" he asks in disbelief, jaw comically dropping to the floor. you don't even get the chance to get a word in before he's snatching those clothes for you and stuffing them in the basket.
"you're unbelievable." he scoffs in an exaggerated and lighthearted manner before gesturing to the rest of the store with a nod of his head. "just get whatever you want, babe. don't worry about anything."
"are you sure?" you ask doubtfully, looking around the rest of the store with a barely concealed look of desire.
"mhm. go wild." childe chuckles, pecking your forehead and nodding in response. the blinding smile and little fashion show you gave him afterwards was all he would have ever asked for in return.
DILUC
poor man is so confused when you start putting the things in your shopping cart back on the shelves :((
he was so entertained seeing you grab all the goodies you wanted and dumping them into the cart.
he's looking at you with concern when you stop in the middle of the aisle to check your bag, a growing frown on your face as your eyebrows furrow in confusion.
"what's wrong darling?" he asks, placing a hand on the small of your back to give you some reassurance. "are you looking for something?"
"my wallet..." you sighs and close your bag, looking at the mountain of stuff in your cart with a disappointed pout. "i forgot it somewhere at home."
he's frozen in both confusion and shock when you slowly start returning items to their rightful places on the shelves. "i'll just get them some other time, i guess."
now it's diluc's turn to furrow his brows. he's literally right in front of you???? he can and will pay for anything???
"oh, darling," he coos gently, placing whatever he could recall you getting back into the cart. "i can pay for it. you don't need to worry about such things."
"thank you diluc," you smile, standing on your toes to place a grateful kiss to his cheek. "i promise i'll repay you some time."
"no need, dearest." he sends you a smile that has your heart squeezing almost painfully in adoration for the man before you. "you're happiness is all that matters."
ZHONGLI
okay i know this man doesn't have much money, but i can pretty much guarantee you that you're getting whatever you lay your eyes on.
you're looking through a small trinkets kiosk with some of the cutest accessories you've ever seen.
zhongli admires the trinkets along with you, smiling as you pick up some pieces of jewelry to try them on.
"that looks wonderful on you, dear," he compliments you fondly, admiring how exquisite a particular bracelet looked on your wrist.
thankfully, the bracelet wasn't made out of any expensive materials so it was rather affordable, and you could easily get it for yourself.
however, as you rummage your bag for your wallet, it's unfortunately nowhere to be found.
zhongli, ever the observant, already noticed the troubled look on your face. he's connected the dots by now so this man is bringing out his own wallet. "let me, my love." he starts looking through his wallet for some spare coins and any bills he can find.
you grab onto his coat sleeve in an attempt to stop him from paying on your behalf. "zhongli, i can't let you–" he's already handed a stack of coins and a single bill in payment before you can even finish your sentence.
"nonsense, dear." he pats the bracelet on your wrist. "it's my pleasure to buy something that looks simply stunning on you."
he brings your hand up to his lips to kiss it lovingly before linking your arms together once more. "if there is anything else that catches your eye, do let me pay for it. it would be my greatest honor to spoil you."
XIAO
he's far less lovey-dovey and physically affectionate compared to the other men mentioned above, but rest assured he'll get whatever you want <3
he doesn't really like being in a crowded space with tons of people, so when you go shopping he's more quiet.
of course he's helping you by carrying the basket and giving you his opinions when you ask for it, but that's about all he does.
he's still as observant as ever though, so when he sees you putting the stuff you wanted back in their places with an upset expression, he knows something's off.
"why're you putting them back?" he asks, brows furrowing in slight confusion.
"i don't have money to pay for it right now. i left my wallet somewhere," you explain sadly, putting the last of your items on the shelf.
he simply hums in understanding before going back to being quiet. he doesn't immediately do something but you'll see how much he loves you later on.
"why don't you go back to the car?" he hands you the keys, and gestures to the basket filled with the rest of the stuff he's getting for himself. "maybe your wallet's in there. you go look while i pay for my stuff."
you agree and by the time you've searched all over the car, xiao is back with numerous bags. you were still upset about your wallet so you didn't get to notice the oddly numerous amount of bags before hopping into the car and letting xiao drive you both home.
however when you get home, he hands you literally everything you were eyeing, his expression soft. "i can pay for stuff. don't be afraid to ask me. i can't say no to you," he reminds you, the tip of his ears blushing red at both his admission and the happy smile you give him that makes his heart pound in affection.
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© withloveajaxx 2022. please do not copy, plagarize, or translate in any way.
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irisintheafterglow · 11 months
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welcome back to coparenting megumi with satoru (megs' birthday edition! because it's basically winter and i wanna write more found family fluff)
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you're well aware that megumi is not a normal child.
you're reminded of it on a daily basis when he tells you about the low-level curses he spotted around the corner while he and tsumiki walked home from school. you're reminded when either you or satoru immediately go to the corner where he saw the curse and exorcising every curse within a four mile radius. you're reminded when he sees a dog and immediately wants to summon his divine dogs, even though his cursed energy isn't at a level where he can activate it without being wiped out for the rest of the day. but mostly, you're reminded on his birthdays that he was not born and will never be normal. still, satoru makes it his mission to give the boy what he calls a "bangin' birthday."
the other kids in his class would have their parents bring in cupcakes or goodies on their special day; megs, however, would probably argue that the other kids aren't deserving of the sweets you brought. so, on his 7th birthday, he's in class for barely an hour before you sign him out at the front desk. his eyes stare out the back window at the passing cityscape and he sips on a smoothie you had waiting for him when he met you at the front office.
"i thought you had a mission?"
"i called in a few favors and got today off," you reply happily, smiling wider when his fingers automatically grab your pinky. as you pull into the driveway of his first surprise, the tiniest gasp of realization leaves him and you wink at him through the rearview mirror. "recognize that sound, megs?" he nods furiously, throwing off his seatbelt as soon as the car is parked with excitement you'd never seen from him before. the barking coming from the house you've pulled up to only increases in volume while he practically runs up the front path and, with no warning, two gigantic dogs burst into the front yard and into the arms of the birthday boy.
"they still know me!" he beams as the two dogs nudge his face with their foreheads, sticking their nose against his clothes and licking stray drops of smoothie. "look, they still like me!"
"i see, megs," you say with a melancholy twist in your chest. even though he was becoming better at summoning his own divine dogs, you knew he missed the ones that helped him break his mental block in the first place. like no time had passed, megumi herds the dogs back into the house and they dutifully follow. you shoot your friend a text, thanking her for letting you use her house and letting him see the dogs she adopted all those years ago. while she worked in her office upstairs, she very generously gave you the rest of the first floor to use for birthday festivities. festivities, you noticed, were much more decorated than you previously planned it to be.
while megumi slips his shoes off at the door, the dogs race over to a gigantic box in the center of the dining room, barking furiously at it like it was an intruder. it's wrapped in shimmering, bright blue paper that gives you a headache the longer you look at it and looks suspiciously large enough to hide a 6-foot-something idiot. you knew you raised megs right when he's also immediately suspicious of the package, eyeing it with distaste as if he already knew what (or who) was inside.
"i'm guessing from your face that you didn't put that there," he remarks and you shake your head in acknowledgment. "any idea what's in it?" you swear you can hear a stupid giggle from inside the cardboard and you stifle a laugh.
"don't know," you say with fake indifference. "maybe it's a present from the dogs."
"it'd probably be hard for them to wrap seeing as they don't have thumbs," he states blankly, still frowning at the obnoxious wrapping paper. "wanna just put it somewhere to get it out of the way?"
"sure," you start, an idea popping into your head and a sly grin working its way onto your face. "i guess...i'll just throw it in my domain for now-"
"surprise!" as if on cue, the top of the box breaks open to reveal your very panicked boyfriend who despised portaling into your domain. he's wearing ridiculously oversized party glasses with frames shaped like balloons and his clothes are covered in metallic confetti that sprinkles onto your friend's floors. the dogs break into another bark-fest and satoru shushes them urgently; you break into giggles and help him step out of the box. "where's my favorite birthday boy?"
"why were you in there?"
"it's called a surprise, megumi. people have them when they want to have fun," he quips and you click your tongue, picking a stray piece of confetti from his hair. he murmurs an apology under his breath, kissing your forehead like he wasn't in bed with you a few hours earlier. "hi, gorgeous."
"hey, handsome. your limbs alright after being stuck in there?"
"a little creaky, but i'll survive," he reassures you, stretching out his ridiculously lanky arms as an example. his hand gestures to the ungodly amount of streamers and balloons that were much more than you'd bought last week. "i did a little redecorating."
"i see that," you chuckle. "alright, megs. you ready for your next birthday activity?" he looks up from his spot on the floor, where he'd somehow convinced the dogs to lay on either side of him.
"there's more?"
"mhmm, and it involves some strawberries from the fridge. you wanna help me wash them?" he nods and walks over to the fridge with the dogs trailing behind him. "there should be a strainer already in the sink."
"you still think we'll be able to make it to the park?" satoru asks quietly, pulling you into his arms and watching the winter sky become more unfriendly. "i can protect us from the rain, but a storm would probably ruin the atmosphere we've got goin' here."
"i agree," you murmur. a glance at the mirror shows megumi standing on a stool in front of the sink, sneaking washed berries to the dogs. "though, i don't think he'd mind just staying here."
"i also agree. i can order some lunch and go pick it up while dessert bakes. i need to go grab tsumiki, anyway," he suggests. "she can help me pick out matching cozy sweaters for when we watch a movie."
"i think megs would rather die than wear a matching sweater with you, sweetheart."
"true," he concedes. "but i'll do that, then. need anything else while i'm out?"
"no, just for you to get back faster."
"i'll be here before you can even blink, beautiful."
"are we making me a birthday cake?" megumi calls from the kitchen, finally noticing the ingredients stacked neatly on the island counter. "and does that mean i can throw food at satoru?"
"if you can get him to turn off infinity, then sure," you reply. your boyfriend makes a face of betrayal and you stick your tongue out at him. "tell him it's for your birthday present."
"gojo, i know what i want for my birthday!"
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i-love-ptv · 7 months
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He Loves My Heart-Shaped Sunglasses
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Felix Catton x Fem! Reader
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You and Felix spend Valentine’s Day together. <3
Smut (lowk filthy) + Fluff
Wc: 2,550
An: Wanted to post this before v day, but i got sidetracked, thankfully pushed it out before the day ended :3
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February 14th.
The day of love.
The day to show your special someone how much you care for them.
The day that’ll bring out the joy and excitement out of most, but will also bring out the bitter feelings of some.
Felix has never really favored Valentine’s day. He may be a soft romantic now; a year into your relationship, but before, he was used to hookups that led to his lonesome morning after. Hence why it was so hard for him to ask you out last year on this very day.
He spent hours in different shops; trying to find the perfect gifts for you. Obviously, this process would’ve gone by quicker if Venetia didn’t get distracted by the hundreds of soft stuffed animals every few minutes, and if Farleigh had even went.
“Please Farleigh! Surely you can help me! You know more about these things than I do!”
“No can do lover boy, besides, you have Vee going with you.” Farleigh had said with an amused smirk.
After a little more of groveling and begging on Felix’s end, Farleigh still didn’t budge. The fact that Felix had said that he wanted to “woo” you, hadn’t helped his case either.
The beaming lights of the shops reflecting off of the bright pinks and reds had Felix’s head starting to ache.
He had settled on getting you a bouquet of red roses, a basket of your favorite snacks, and some other little goodies.
That day when you saw one singular rose on your desk in your english class, the last person you expected to be nervously glancing in your direction was Felix.
After a long, panic-filled conversation with the blubbering boy, you two had finally become official, and Felix swears to this day, that it was the best day of his entire life.
Now, Felix has gotten a bit better at buying gifts for you. He knows you like the back of his tattooed hand. But he can’t help but feel nervous to see you this morning. After all, you only have one, one year anniversary with your love.
Felix observed as the other students of Oxford were handing out gifts to their significant others. Felix couldn’t help but think about how his presents for you were far more superior to everyone else’s.
He had been so distracted, that he hadn’t noticed you walking up.
You tapped on his shoulder and he had nearly leaped out of his skin.
He quickly realizes who is in front of him, and grips you up like you were light as a feather.
“Angel! Oh my goodness you startled me! Happy anniversary sweet girl!” Felix says grinning, like he was looking at the brightest star in the galaxy.
“Happy anniversary my love,” you return through your giggles.
“Here! Here! Open the gifts I bought for you honey!” Felix rushes out as he’s pushing the bags into your hands.
You jokingly chide him for nearly knocking your things out of your hands, but quickly start digging through one of the bags.
He had given you one of his sweaters, a pair of heels you had been eyeing in town, a few other items, and most importantly, a beautiful ring covered in diamonds.
“S’not an engagement ring, not yet anyways, but a promise ring, because I promise to love you always and forever. Tha’s a bit too cheesy, isn’t it? Sorry, I had this whole thing I was going to say but-“
You cut his rambling off with a deep kiss to his rosy lips.
“Thank you Felix, I love it with my whole heart, baby.”You say while pulling away breathlessly.
Felix’s face started to hurt from the constant smiling, but the thought of that flew out the window as he remembered that you had gotten him something.
Felix had practically ripped through the big box you gave him; feeling like he was about to burst at the seems. You smile softly, imagining him with a wagging tail and perked up puppy ears.
You had bought a few articles of clothing, more cologne, a new book that he said he had been interested in reading, and of course, a stunning bracelet, that matched the exact same on dangling on your wrist.
After many more kisses, hugs, and sugary sweet words exchanged between the two of you, you both head to class.
Felix was counting down the minutes until he could see your dazzling face in front of him again. His class felt as if it had been going on for hours, and the fact that he couldn’t focus on his lesson for even a few minutes while thinking about you, wasn’t helping. His mind was drifting to what he had planned for the two of you later tonight.
You, on the other hand, were on the same boat as Felix.
All that consumed your mind was Felix; you’re sweet, dashing Felix.
You’re suddenly snapped out of your thoughts by your professor, who had agitatedly started lecturing you on the importance of focusing on class.
And finally, after multiple grueling hours, and a heated make-out session in a storage closet, classes for today were over.
Felix suggested that you two go into town, and go on a date to the cafe you both loved. At this point, it was your guys’ cafe; your designated spot, where you both can run away from the world and just enjoy one another.
After spending hours, which seemed like minutes, in the cafe, and throughout town, the two of you settle on going back to your dorm.
Normally, the two of you just go to Felix’s dorm, but his was still somewhat airing out from the smoke session you two had the night prior.
Although, the idea of you two walking through town sounded romantic at the time, you hadn’t thought into how long you two would be walking.
“‘Lex?” You call out softly. Felix immediately turns to you.
“Can you carry me? M’feet hurt honey.” You say with a slight pout, to get your point across.
Felix, of course, being the amazing boyfriend he is, quickly picks you up, bridal-style and carries you back.
You ask him multiple times if he was alright carrying you for so long, but after his reassurance and light nip to your nose, your worries are put to rest.
The two of you eventually settle on your bed, and you curl against Felix’s warm body.
“Wait, darling, I forgot a few things at my dorm,” Felix rushes out.
“Mmm, no ‘Lex, stay with me”
“It’ll only be a minute angel, I promise.”
Felix nearly doesn’t have the heart to pull you off of him, but he can’t afford to keep you from your final gift for much longer.
He leaves with a quick kiss to your forehead and nose, and goes to retrieve the items from his dorm.
He comes back and spots you sitting up on the bed with what he thinks is nothing, but his shirt on, and strawberries. You had also opted for a can of whipped cream, instead of melted chocolate, because after last time, you didn’t want to endure the process of the chocolate staining your white sheets, and hardening as you two tried to use it.
“Wha’s this baby?” Felix says with a smirk as he inches towards you.
You feel his warm, hand on your calf as he reaches you.
“What? Did you really think we were going to go without some fun on our anniversary baby?” You say while looking up at him with longing.
“Unwrap your gift, Felix.”
The brunette boy wastes no time in stripping you from his your shirt.
There, he sees, the lacy brown lingerie covering your body; the brown being almost, if not fully, identical to the color of his dark brown irises.
Felix kisses your neck, leaving no area of skin unmarked with purple bruises.
“Mm, wait” He says as he leaves behind a slight strain on saliva on your flesh.
“Oh my god Felix, seriously?” You say with slight annoyance.
“Relax. I have something for you.” Felix chides.
Felix pulls out a box, containing a necklace; with his initials on it.
“D’you like it baby? I think it’ll be perfect, tha’way none of those other boys could even think they could have a chance with you.”
“Why boys, Felix?” You ask slyly, trying to push his buttons a bit.
“I say boys because, my angel..They could never fuck you like I do…Like a man.” He says lowly, showcasing the bass in his silky smooth voice.
You let out a whine at this; loving when he gets possessive over you, “put it on me Felix, claim me.” You purr.
He moves your hair out of his way, and puts the necklace around your neck, subtly grinding his hard, pulsing cock against the little fabric you had covering your cunt.
You let out a sigh, as Felix moans lowly in your love-bitten ear.
He then grabs a strawberry and stuffs it gently between your lips, making you bite down on it.
The juices trickle down your chin as he moves the fruit around inside of your mouth. He licks a stripe up from your throat to right below your lips.
He goes back and leaves a bite on your throat, making you tilt you head back with a sharp moan, giving him more access.
Felix kisses you roughly as he grabs the whipped cream. He squirts a line of the sweet cream onto your navel; watching it slowly glide down to your soaked core.
“God…’Lex don’t tease me,” you whimper meekly.
“But y’taste s’sweet, lovie.” Felix says, letting out a giggle that makes your pussy clench.
“Oh look at you, m’dirty little thing. Clenchin’ around nothin’,” Felix says smugly as he kisses down your warm body.
Abruptly, Felix dips down and licks a stripe up your achy cunt.
“Fuck ‘Lex!”
Felix grins at your shriek, as he presses sloppy kisses to your clit.
“…I thought I told you to stop teasing me baby,” you say, pushing his head down onto your cunt, prompting him to start licking and sucking where you want him to.
Your back arches off the bed as you squeal in ecstasy. You grab Felix’s hair with both hands roughly; he moans at this, which sends shockwaves through your body.
Felix fucks you with his tongue for what feels like hours, sticking his tongue in and out of your pulsing hole.
Felix feels your thighs trembling, making it clear that you’re close to reaching your climax.
Felix removes his mouth with a slick pop and a charming smile, making you cry out.
“Wait! Wait no. ‘Lex, why’d you stop? Baby. Baby please I need it. Put it back please-“
“Shhh, angel. M’gonna give you somethin’ better. Gonna give you this cock. Tha’s what you wanted, right?” Felix says pressing his lips to yours, again, and again.
Felix continues kissing you as he pulls down his pants and boxers, pulling out his stiff dick.
He rubs the tip against your folds, watching his precum drip against your wetness.
“Mmm, y’ready f’me sweetheart?”
“Please, please, please ‘Lex. I’ll be so good! So so good, I promise! Please give it to me! I need it!” You shout eagerly.
“God, you make me feel whole,” Felix says as he slowly pushes his cock into your heat.
“Thank you ‘Lex! Thank you! Oh fuck!”
Felix almost immediately starts thrusting in and out of you roughly, opening your legs wider as he plants his feet.
“Fuck babe! I swear y’made f’me. I thank any ‘n every god tha’ led us to each other, honey.” Felix says with a delicious groan.
“Shit! God that’s it baby. Don’t stop!” You say, reaching down to start toying with your clit.
Felix nips at your fingers; having noticed your dainty fingers rubbing circles. Silently ordering you to quit it.
You wrap your legs around his meaty torso tightly as he flicks at your puffy pussy.
“Oh! O’fuck! Right there! Mhm!” Felix feels as if he’s consuming your moans, picking up his already brutal pace to absolutely abuse your cunt. His main goal being to make you squirm in ways only he can.
“Uh huh? Yeah y’like that angel? Feels- oh f-fuck. Feels good doesn’it?”
Felix lets out more deep groans, with the occasional whine.
“‘Lex. ‘Lex, baby. M’cumming.” You rush out breathlessly.
“M’right there with y’baby, m’right here. Just, fuck, wait a second..Wanna come together, beautiful.” Felix says panting.
The only noises to be heard in the somewhat small dorm are the moans and gasps of two passionate lovers, and the squeaks and banging from the plush bed.
In any other scenario, you’d be pressing your hand around your mouth, stressing to Felix about the importance of staying quiet; not wanting to get more noise complaints. But right now, you could barely even think about where you are; focusing only on the circles being rubbed on your glistening cunt, and the feeling of Felix’s warm, almost candle-lit hot limbs touching yours.
Felix’s pace begins to falter, growing sloppier and sloppier with every thrust, showing signs of Felix nearing his blissful end.
“Yes! Fuck yes! Come f’me angel, please! Give it t’me! C’mon, y’know y’can, here hold m’hand.” Felix says, reaching his clammy hand to your already sweaty one.
“F-fuck! ‘Lex!”
In the span of seconds, the two of you are coming undone together, gripping each other’s hand so tightly.
You feel your climax shake through your entire body, making you jerk against Felix’s hold, as he tries to keep himself together.
Felix collapses softly next to you with a soft “holy shit,” making sure not to startle you in your hazy state.
He brushes the hair from your moist skin and peppers feather-like kisses onto your face, collarbone, and scalp; helping you calm down from your high.
You look at him bleary eyed, taking account of his wobbly smiles as he tries to catch his breath.
‘Does he ever stop smiling?’ You think to yourself.
“Hi honey,” Felix whispers.
“Hi baby,” you whisper back with a giggle.
“Y’so gorgeous, y’know that, angel?” He says, after softly pulling out and snuggling closer to you with a blanket.
“So i’ve been told,” you say, blinking sleepily.
“Wait, sweetheart. Y’can’t sleep yet! I gotta clean you up!” Felix says in a hurry, jumping out from underneath the blanket. He quickly walks over to his desk, which has a pack of wipes on it, and he finds a towel on his dresser.
You fight sleep, as Felix softly wipes you, making sure not to put too much pressure on your already sore cunt.
He sits you up a bit, putting on of his cozy sweatshirts on your frame and gently lays you back down.
He quickly puts a pair of boxers on once he hears your soft whines, begging for him to cuddle you.
He lays down and drapes your body on top of his.
The last thing you feel before drifting off is a sweet kiss being pressed onto your forehead.
“Happy Valentine’s Day lovie..and most importantly, happy one year anniversary.”
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feedback always appreciated bb <3
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starhvney · 6 months
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BRO. NEW FAN!!! I LOVE LOVE LOVE YOUR GENE FICS!!!!!
So much, that I come requesting 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼
Bully!Gene(if you do that, if not then teenager Gene) x smart or very intelligent reader :)) can be romantic or platonic!!
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𝐔𝐍𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: pdh gene x fem!reader
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: how ironic is it, when you have to run to someone you’re scared of for protection. maybe, though, you don’t need to be as scared as you are.
𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: hurt/comfort, slight angst, unsaid feelings from gene but could also be seen as platonic, “i bully her but only i can bully her” ahh trope, i had to give high school gene some masked redeeming qualities because i said so, gene still being gene in high school (so cussing and delinquent behavior, but not towards reader), he scares you a lil but doesn’t actually bully you
𝐂𝐖: reader is bullied by other students, mentions of violence
𝐀/𝐍: i took offff with this trope bro i lowkey wanna write a whole fic rather than a oneshot about this. i relate so much to the goody two shoes smarty pants reader because that’s still me out of high school tbh hahaha thank you for the prompt anon! (also, the scenario was inspired by a clip of a cdrama i saw one time)
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
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you’re not sure why it started. you’re not even sure when.
was it because you were friends with aphmau? or garroth? because you followed the rules and made good grades? or were you just an easy target?
at first, she had only sent glares your way, cerise hair framing that ugly grimace she’d reserved for you when no one was looking. sometimes she’d spit a snide comment or two, aiming to berate you and take you down from the core. but then it got worse. you were “bumped into”. then shoved outright. threatening notes were tucked in your locker when you weren’t looking.
she must have realized people would believe you if you told someone. you had a good standing, kept to yourself, didn’t go out of your way for attention. and she had a reputation to keep, too.
you were shocked, when one day she had stopped. she didn’t speak to you, didn’t hit you. hell, she didn’t even go near you. but it wasn’t because she was done with you, it was because it was going to get worse.
students you didn’t even know started approaching you, accusing you of things you’d never done, berating you, and if no one was looking…
you had wondered every possibility of why and when.
but now, you don’t think of any of that, as a group of boys chased you through the empty halls, spatting unrepeatable insults and threats of violence that you sure weren’t just empty promises. you could barely think—barely breathe and stay ahead—as you sprinted through the side of the school that somehow no teacher nor student could be seen to help.
you still kept your destination set on one spot, a place that would either save you or make your situation a thousand times worse. it was your only option, though, ironically as it was.
bursting through the doors of the school’s outdoor shed, you nearly collapsed in relief at the sight of him—your bleak sliver of hope for survival.
hooded eyes meet yours curiously from under thick lashes and messy black hair, before snapping to the group of boys racing in behind you like a pack of hyenas. his jaw snaps in place, nearly squishing the half burned cigarette that hung from his lips. he sits up from his spot on some stacked gym mats, his purposefully disheveled uniform even messier than usual. they freeze at the doorway, nearly tumbling over the other as their eyes widen at the sight.
“get the fuck out.” is all he has to say, lifting a scabbed-over hand to flick ash in their direction as they scramble back out of sight.
your relief is short lived, you realize, as you’re now left alone with him. you anxiously shy away from his dark blue gaze, your legs wobbling as they try to take you towards the door. you nearly jump out of your own skin when his tall build quickly intercepts your path, his arm lazily reaching out to shut the door and seclude the two of you inside.
“not you.”
you back up as he begins to pace toward you, every two steps you take one of his before you’re finally stopped by the shelf behind you. the scent of a musky cologne and cigarette smoke invades your senses as he also stops, face merely inches away from yours as he looks down at you.
“how did you know i was in here?”
you quickly turn to try and run around him, but his hand connects against the shelf to your right. as you flinch and try to turn the other way his other arm has already pinned you in, leaving you completely trapped.
“i’m sorry.” you finally muster, head ducked as you stare at the ground in front of you. “i didn’t know.”
“so you just happened to run into me here in a place no one has caught me in, yet, huh?” he tilts his head. “you thought it would be smart to run in a secluded area with no escape while a group of boys was after you, is that it?”
you stay silent, fighting away the tears of exhaustion and anxiety biting at your eyes. gene looks away from you towards the door again, plucking the cigarette from his lips and exhaling more smoke from his lungs.
his eyes flick back down to you, watching as your features flinch in displeasure and nausea as some of the smoke catches in your face. a second passes before he drops it to the concrete flooring, putting out the lit paper and nicotine under his shoe.
“you may be smarter than me when it comes to academics but i’m not falling for that. you think i haven’t noticed you watching me? somehow always “running into me” when you’re in trouble?”
the blood drains from your face as you realize you’ve been caught, your teary eyes dreadfully trained at the wall.
“it’s kind of rude to take advantage of me like that and not pay me back…” he trails, calculating eyes trained on every reaction and expression you give. “maybe i’ll make you join my group and do my dirty work for me.”
you curse internally at the tears that fall from your eyes, unable to contain themselves in your eyes as they spill over. an embarrassed moment passed before a busted up hand brushes against your cheek, catching the delicate and salty liquid on his fingers. you flinch, finally facing him as your reddened eyes meet his. his expression is unreadable, making a face you hadn’t seen on him before.
“nah. you wouldn’t be able to handle it.” he finally says, his voice nearly startling you.
a couple seconds more pass as he stares at your silent tears, eyebrows furrowing before he makes a noise somewhere between a scoff and a sigh. he straightens his posture, lifting his arms away and releasing you from his trap.
“they should be gone now.” he waves his hand, motioning towards the shed door for you to leave when you don’t move as if his intentions had been obvious in the first place. 
“go.”
“what? you don’t want anything?” you ask, voice wobbling.
“i don’t care for ivy’s style. and people like you aren’t any fun to mess with, anyways...” he says, his eyes finally leaving yours for once as he stares off at the wall behind you, rolling his tongue against the inside of his cheek.
you hesitate a second more, but you don’t have time to dissect his body language or choice of words, so you quickly head towards the door. you pause one last time before running out, turning to him again.
“thank you.”
and then you’re gone. gene groans, cursing under his breath and running his hand through his hair as he trails to the doorway to watch you disappear back into the school again. you weren’t sure how to feel when your aggressors stopped approaching you so much, their presence replaced by a distant glimpse you’d catch of messy black hair in your peripheral. sometimes you’d even notice sasha or zenix quietly trailing after you in the hall, but you knew better than to question it, gratefully keeping your head down.
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©starhvney, 2024. please do not steal or repost my works as your own.
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Text
KINKTOBER (reuploaded)
i <3 giving head (Matt)
Request: I need a Matt one where he overstimulates the reader with his tongue he can be dominant or submissive or wtv but he just doesn’t wanna stop giving the reader head/can you do one where matt wakes up horny and wakes y/n up by eating her out, and then it just goes on from there(I <3 giving head)
Warnings: fingering, oral(fem), face sitting, that’s basically it
A/N: this is kind of a head cannon and pretty short
A/N2: so sorry this is 2 days late, i was on a cruise and had no service!!
3rd Person pov
Matt loves giving his girlfriend head. It doesn’t matter where they are, whether he was feeling dominant or submissive, or anything else for that matter. He’s going to find a way to give her head, even if that means leaving an important event just so he could eat her out in the van. It was such a major turn-on for him that he didn’t even give a shit about getting himself off. Matt felt as if his sole purpose in life was to eat his girl out, having her cum on his face and fingers.
He loved the way her thick thighs wrapped around his head and squeezed, especially when she sat on his face. That’s an entire turn-on in itself, she used to be nervous about hurting him and still is cautious not to put her full weight down on him, but when Matt forces her down onto his face it’s like heaven. Y/n wasn’t complaining either, she absolutely loved the attention and praises he gives her. She always tries to get Matt off after but he almost never allows it if they’re out, claiming that letting him eat her out was enough until they got home, where he would fuck her properly.
Sometimes, Y/n would even wake up with Matt between her legs, already eating her out. And on the days where it wasn’t possible for him to do his favorite activity, due to her period, Matt would spoil Y/n. The day would be full of cuddles and whatever she needed from him, cuddling was usually enough though. They’re both so desperately in love with each other and that was just Matt’s way of saying ‘I appreciate you’ while also satisfying himself. He just loved the way she tastes and how easy it is for him to make her feel amazing.
•••
Matt needed to apologize, so today was one of those days where he woke Y/n up by eating her out. They had a little disagreement last night and instead of staying over at his house like planned, she went home. Matt had felt bad the whole night once he realized he was the one in the wrong and wanted to make it up to her. He woke up extra early to go get waffles and french toast from her favorite diner before heading to her apartment. Obviously he had a key, so he quietly let himself into her home with all his goodies.
Matt even went the extra mile to buy her a bouquet of her favorite flowers and a stuffed animal as an ‘I’m sorry’ present. Looking at the time, he noticed it was only 6:53am and there was no way Y/n would be up yet. Opting to put the food in her fridge to heat up later, Matt made his way upstairs to Y/n’s bedroom, sneakily crawling into bed next to her. He slowly pulling the covers down, not wanting to wake the sleepy girl, before gently rolling her onto her back.
This was something Matt had mastered at this point and he was very happy to see Y/n only slept in panties and one of his shirts. The elder boy started getting to work after pulling off her panties and settling himself between her legs. He groaned at the sight of his girlfriends, already slightly wet, cunt and dove straight in. Matt started off by kitty licking through her folds before sucking on his fingers to get them nice and wet so he could start fingering her.
Once he deemed his fingers wet enough, he slowly pushed one finger in, rubbing across her velvety walls. Y/n wasn’t yet phased by this action so he immediately added a second finger. Matt’s fingers were moving at a fast pace as his lips enclosed around her clit. His other hand was beneath the youngers shirt, toying with both of her nipples. He wanted Y/n to wake up so badly, wanting her to pull his hair and be begging to cum.
He was still pleased with the small moans and whines coming from her lips but he wanted more. Matt decided to move his face away from Y/n’s clit and start kissing her neck instead, still pumping his fingers into her. Y/n let out a long whine as she slowly woke up, letting out a loud moan just a few seconds later as Matt added a third finger. “Maaaattt, what are you doing?” she whined out as he started sucking light hickies into her skin.
“Shhh, just let it happen honey.” he told her as she fully woke up. “Don’t leave any marks, love!” the younger girl loudly whined, trying to wriggle away from the kisses, but Matt ignored her, saying, “Mine!” and continued kissing her neck. Matt then went back down to eat her out again, keeping his three fingers in her while sucking on her clit. “M-Matt faster please!” Y/n begged.
Matt switched his mouth and fingers, now sucking on her core and rubbing her clit in fast, tight circles. He was so turned on right now that he could cum in his pants just from her moans. “Oh Matt! I love having your slutty mouth on my pussy!” the girl cried, watching her boyfriends blue eyes lazily look up at her. Matt started to messily eat her out, squeezing and grabbing onto different parts of her body with his free hand.
This had the younger girl so close already, so when Matt pinched one of Y/n’s nipples, it sent her falling over the edge. “Matt I’m gonna- Oh fuck!” is all she gave as a warning before cumming all over his face. Matt wasn’t done yet though, as he continued eating her out at the same pace, quickly overstimulating his girlfriend. Almost immediately, Y/n was cumming again, squirming away from Matt as he kept moaning and sucking on her pussy.
“Good morning sexy mama.” Matt smirked as Y/n caught her breath. Matt wore a cocky grin, feeling his face wet with his girls cum, he loved making her cum. “I- Woah, okay— Good morning!” she joked back breathlessly. “I’m sorry for our fight, I hope this makes up for it” Matt said with a pout .
•••
Another thing Matt does, is get hyper-focused on making Y/n cum by head and will just continue eating her out until she’s screaming the safe word. On the day this happened, it was like a dream come true, the day had just overall been great. The pairs day, mostly consisted of lots of cuddling, soft makeouts, and just overall complimenting each other…
Matt’s pov
Today was great, I woke up this morning and went straight to my girlfriends apartment for breakfast. We made and ate breakfast together, which was fun, and now we were cuddled up on the couch. Y/n was sitting sideways across my lap while I watched some random show, keeping a tight arm wrapped around her waist. Y/n moved her head a bit and started placing little kisses on my neck, making me smile.
“What are you doing?” I softly giggled as I brought my free hand down to rub her thigh. She continued leaving kisses on my neck though, but now they were slower and had become more sloppy. Y/n kissed her way to my ear, “I’m giving my boyfriend some well deserved attention.” she giggled back as I had her readjust so she was now straddling me.
Y/n pulled back to look at me, her nails now running across the back of my neck, “Well he likes the attention so don’t stop.” I smirked. I was admiring my girls cleavage when her index finger and thumb moved my face up to look at her. We held eye contact for a moment as her thumb ran across my bottom lip, making my dick twitch beneath her.
“Do you think I deserve attention?” Y/n/n pouted, looking down at me with those big e/y/c eyes. I was starting to get hard from all the tension as I stared up at her, stupidly. “Yeah, I think so…” I replied quietly, mesmerized by my girlfriend. “Yeah, you think so? Are you gonna be a good boy and give me that attention?” she asked seductively.
3rd Person pov
Matt knew he was fucked the second he looked into her eyes, he immediately began to give up control. “Y-You can use my mouth.” he quietly stated, Y/n got off the couch and pulled him up with her. “Yeah? Can I ride that pretty, little face of yours?” she asked, resulting in Matt literally begging her to do so.
He grabbed her hand and pulled her in the bedroom where he quickly took off his shirt and unbuttoned his pants/belt, keeping them pulled up still. Y/n watched her boyfriend walk over to her while she laughed and took off her pants. “Naked, now!” Matt groaned, not pleased with how seemingly slow Y/n was getting undressed.
Once Y/n was naked, the two got into position, Matt was flat on his back while Y/n sat on his lap “Matt, baby, c’mon get comfortable, you’re gonna eat me out all night like a good boy.” the younger told him. That’s exactly what Matt did too, not stopping until Y/n said they were done. She instantaneously climbed over his face while he laid down. She was going to tease him with her words some more, but Matt was over it.
He pulled her down onto his awaiting face, forcefully holding down the girls thighs. She loved when Matt was whiny and impatient, because it always felt so good when he would rush into something, just to start pleasing her. Just like many nights before, Matt was sucking on her clit, flicking it with his tongue in the process.
Grabbing onto the bed frame for stability, Y/n gasped, not expecting that. “God!— Fuck Matty! You’re such a needy whore!” the girl whined as he started sliding his hands across her perfect body. Now that Y/n could control her own movements, she decided to tease the older boy again.
She sat straight up and started touching her own tits, groping them. She was also pinching her nipples and rubbing them, knowing it makes her extremely wet. “Look at you babe, you look so pathetic underneath me!” she teased Matt, causing the sub to whine as he replaced her hands with his, twisting her nipples.
Not being able to speak, Matt just let out whines and moans against her pussy from the dirty talk. “Damn Matt! You’ve got me so close already!” Y/n grunted, causing Matt to whimper. He moved one hand to her ass and one to her pussy so he could finger her, immediately slamming three fingers into her.
This is what sent Y/n over the edge, his rapid movements never halted. Matt lightly bit her clit before Y/n started screaming out his name. “Fuck! Fuck— Matt! Oh Matt, I’m gonna cum on your face! Feels so good— I’m cumming!” Y/n basically yelled. In response, Matt just started humming against her core. She came down from her first high, only to continue having Matt eat her out all night.
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©Daddyschickenfingers 2024
Do not steal, use, or reupload my work
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