#feeling silly tonight don't mind me

[bratzforchris]

Animal

Summary: Unfair ref calls end up getting Matt placed in the penalty box during a game. The best way to relieve his anger afterwards is sitting in the stands and wearing a miniskirt. Based off of this edit<3

Pairing: Hockey player!Matt x implied bimbo and WAG!reader

Warnings: Smut, semi public sex (storage room), dumbification, rough dom!Matt, unprotected p in v, creampie, hair pulling, gagging, masturbation (m), spitting, oral (m receiving), sir kink if you squint, lots of sex/dirty talk, literally pure filth

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: I don't know anything about hockey, so please bare with me for any inaccuracies!! Get your holy water ready...💗

“Good luck!” You smiled, standing on your tiptoes to kiss Matt’s cheek, despite your white kitten heels. “I’ll see you after the game!”

Matt picked you and spun you around, hand cheekily slipping under your pink miniskirt to grab your ass. “I’m looking forward to it.” he whispered huskily in your ear, secretly suckling on the sweet spot behind the flesh. 

You pressed one last kiss to Matt’s lips outside the locker room before bidding him goodbye and scurrying to the special VIP box in the stands of TD Garden that was specifically reserved for the families and friends, but especially wives and girlfriends of the members of the Boston Bruins. Call it shallow or silly, but ever since you were a small girl you had always dreamed of dating a member of your favorite hockey team. Like many New Englanders, you took hockey seriously, and it seemed only fitting for your prince to have skates and a hockey stick rather than a horse. 

The universe must’ve worked in your favor. You and Matt had been next door neighbors for all of your childhood, and had started dating your senior year of high school, just before he had been signed to the Bruins. Everyday since then had been a dream. You were practically Matt’s personal cheerleader, on the ice and off. When you thought about that, along with his flirty mention from earlier, you felt your cheeks flush as you shifted in your seat and adjusted your skirt. Matt’s favorite way to celebrate (and lick his wounds after a loss) a game was in the bedroom and you doubted tonight would be any different. 

You blushed and adjusted your skirt, excitedly catching up with one of Matt’s teammates’ girlfriend who had been out of town for the last home game. No matter how much you tried to move your mind away from the topic, you couldn’t stop yourself from going back to his promises and the feeling of his hands on your backside. 

As the game got ready to start and Matt skated out onto the ice, you couldn’t help but to stand and cheer, bouncing softly on the balls of your feet as you clapped. You knew that he couldn’t hear you, but when your boyfriend turned and made an ‘I love you’ sign towards the private box, your heart soared. 

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

“Damn.” You cursed quietly, watching the Vancouver Canucks score yet another goal.

The ref for this game was being less than fair, and as Matt lifted his helmet during the second intermission, you could see the agitation etched onto his face. He was making good plays and everyone knew it. You felt your heart drop as you watched him try to contain his anger over the Jumbotron, mumbling small ‘fuck’’s under his breath. Matt put his heart and soul into each and every hockey game, and to not get the outcome he wanted based off of some unfair ref calls sucked. 

As the teams took the ice again, you noticed a change in your boyfriend’s demeanor. Matt always played aggressively, but it was more visible now. With each slide of the puck, he was getting madder and madder, skating around the rink furiously. You nibbled the sides of your light pink acrylic nails furiously, growing anxious yourself. Matt was, by definition, an absolute animal in hockey, and you knew it wouldn’t be long before he snapped. There was a reason his team nickname had been ‘The Burier’ since the eighth grade. It’s what he was known for. 

Sure enough, not even five minutes later, the ref stopped the game as Matt snapped. He had met his limit for shit he would take from the officials and the other team. Calling boarding, the ref forced Matt into the penalty box. Though everyone else seemed to continue on with the game after the call, you watched the box with cautious eyes. The brunette looked absolutely furious as he tossed his helmet and sticks to the side. You wanted to feel awful, to go down there and fight with the ref despite your pink miniskirt and lack of overall sports knowledge, but as Matt’s darkened blue eyes looked up to where you were sitting, you couldn’t feel anything other than excitement at how he would most likely take you home and fuck you until you were crying. 

The game ended quicker than you expected, with the Canucks winning by two goals. As you stood up and gathered your purse and coat, you felt your phone buzz. You knew who it was, seeing as how Matt had just skated into the locker room a few moments prior. 

Matt: get your ass to the storage room near section 20. i’m not fucking waiting until we get home.

You felt your cheeks blush at the way just Matt’s tone in the message had your lacy, white thong already soaked. You popped a piece of strawberry gum into your mouth, knowing Matt absolutely devoured the taste on your tongue like a man starved and began to slide through the crowd to his requested meeting area. Luckily, the frenzy of people trying to exit the arena made it easy for you to go unnoticed. Though you weren’t famous of yourself, you were still extremely well-known and popular in the hockey community, leading people to ask you for photos and autographs, even if you weren’t with your lover. 

The storage room by section 20 was mostly deserted, save for an exhausted janitor sweeping by the vending machines, and Matt. He had changed out of his team uniform and into baggy, gray sweatpants and a forest green hoodie, the hood pulled tight over his brown curls. Even in spite of his ‘disguise’, you would’ve recognized him anywhere. 

“Hey baby,” You hummed, letting out a cute giggle as you leaned into Matt’s chest. “You got a temper today?” You asked innocently, blinking your large, false lashes up at him. 

“The ref was a fucking dick.” Matt cursed, pulling you both into the storage closet and locking the door from the inside. 

The light inside the closet was dim and flickering. That, combined with the small space because of the cleaning supplies, mops, and brooms, and the casual smell of mildew was less than romantic. Nevertheless, you could feel your panties soaking at the sight of the tent in Matt’s gray sweats. Knocking the brooms to the side, Matt pushed you against the wall, flicking your gum out of your mouth and beginning to passionately make out with you. His tongue fought yours for dominance, spit mixing with your lip gloss as it dribbled down your chin. 

“Matt…” You whimpered, knees going weak from all of the good feelings you were experiencing. 

“Already at a loss for words, baby doll?” he chuckled, smirking cruelly. “All you can think about is being a slut, huh?” 

You whimpered and nodded, moving your hands up to push the hood off of Matt’s head and tangle your pink acrylic nails in his feathery hair. “Oh…” You breathed. 

Matt practically pushed you to your knees, tossing your heels to the side and making you kneel. From this angle, he had a perfect view of your cleavage in your babydoll tee, the flowery print cups of your push-up bra peeking over the edge. Your boyfriend began to palm himself through his sweatpants, head thrown back in a moan as he looked at the little protests coming from your pouty lips. 

“You gonna take my cock like a good fuckin’ girl?” Matt asked, tipping your chin up to look at him with his other hand. “Gonna show me who the real winner is today?”

You looked up at him with your head cock, almost like that of a pathetic, lost puppy, before nodding quickly. “Promise.” You smiled with a giggle. 

Matt continued to jerk himself like there was no tomorrow, not caring that his moans were growing louder. “Need to get you ready first,” he mumbled, unhinging your jaw with his ring-clad hand. “Open.” 

You did as Matt asked, watching as he gathered his own saliva and then spit in your mouth, holding your chin closed. You blushed, smiling up at his hard face. Just looking at you was making him grow more sexually frustrated, but he couldn’t stop the warmth that spread through his chest at how adorable you looked on your knees, obeying his demands and ready to suck him off until you gagged. Less than a minute later, Matt had yanked down his plaid boxers and pants, thrusting his dick towards your mouth. 

You slowly took his tip into your mouth, licking circles onto his pretty, pink head that was already dripping with precum. The further you took him into your mouth, the more noises he began to make, fists tangling themselves in your hair as he yanked you closer to him by the hair, desperate for more pleasure. By the time his dick had hit the back of your throat, you were practically gagging as Matt bucked his hips towards your face, cock already twitching as his orgasm grew in his belly. 

“You can take it…” he hissed, pulling on your hair again as you whimpered around his dick. “Yeah, right there. Jesus Christ, princess. Makin’ me feel so goddamn good.” 

The way Matt was fucking your face was angry, like he had been since the ref started making those calls, but it was far from mean. He just had pent up, animalistic energy and it needed a release. Turned out that ‘release’ was you, kneeling and spread like a whore, drool and lipgloss puddling down your chin as you took his cock. You couldn’t make any noises other than small whimpers as grunts as you slid the flat of your tongue across the vein on his underside, but Matt could tell you were enjoying this blowjob as much as he was b y the way your nails were digging into the backs of his legs. 

“‘M gonna cum,” Matt groaned. “Better swallow every last fuckin’ drop of it too.”

You nodded as Matt bucked his hips against your face one last time, orgasm overtaking him. You could feel his cock twitching in your mouth as hot, white ropes of cum shot towards the back of your throat. Your boyfriend pulled off your mouth with a pop, holding your lips closed. Once you had swallowed, you wiped your mouth with the sleeve of your pink cardigan, pouting up at him. 

“You got yours. It’s my turn.” You grumbled cutely.

“You know, it really is true what they say about whores,” Matt snorted roughly. “You’re just a bimbo. Don’t even realize that mouthing off won’t get you what you want.”

You whined, your panties growing soaked once more. “Yes sir.” 

“That’s what I thought,” Matt yanked you up roughly by the arm, pinning you against the wall. Before you knew it, Matt had pulled down your skirt, the fabric fluttering to a puddle around your ankles. He snapped the lacy elastic of your thong against your hip one time before ripping the material off, a sadistic gleam in his eyes. “I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time, y’know…” he trailed off, toying with the material. “Never seemed like the right time, but now, what do I have to lose? You’ve already been face fucked like a slut in a storage room, I lost the game and didn’t have an outlet for my stress, but now? I’m gonna have some fun now.” Matt smiled. 

The brunette pulled your lips open, shoving the white fabric of your panties into your mouth. Before Matt, you had never considered yourself a ‘kinky’ girl. Now though, you felt your lower stomach already clenching at the thought of how obscene what you were doing was. Your all-star hockey player was fucking you in the storage closet of his home arena and you were gagged with your own underwear. It was like something out of porn film, yet that only excited you more. 

“Now I can fuck that little cunt senseless without you making a sound.” Matt smirked, yanking off his hoodie and the shirt under it.

You let out a small whimper around your gag as Matt slammed into you, your back pushed against the cinderblock wall as he railed you. The feeling of him bare inside of you was making your pussy clench with want. Your climax had been building in your lower stomach ever since your boyfriend had sent you that text, and now, it was threatening to send you over the edge as Matt fucked you relentlessly. You whined against your gag again, back arching off the wall. You wanted nothing more than to cry out as you raked your nails across Matt’s tattooed arms and back. 

“Good fuckin’ girl,” the brunette husked in your ear. “Takin’ my dick like a little princess, huh?” Matt was bottomed out inside of you, hissing and grunting at the feeling of you clenching around him. “You gonna cum?” he asked, watching your face as the mascara and other makeup streamed down your cheeks from the tears of overstimulation. 

You nodded, grasping at Matt’s hair, back, anything, desperate for relief as Matt fucked you like an animal. Your orgasm hit you like a truck, the white-hot feeling overtaking your body as you writhed under Matt, back arching off the wall. Your boyfriend groaned as your cunt clenched around his cock, sensual noises falling from his lips as he coated your insides white. 

“Fuck, Y/N…you feel so fucking good.” Matt told you, pressing kisses to your neck as he softened inside of you. 

He removed your gag, moving from your neck to kiss your lips softly, licking up the last drops of your mixed saliva, strawberry gum, and lip gloss. You looked up at him, beyond fucked out and makeup ruined and smiled. 

“Guess you’re an animal on and off the ice, huh?” You blinked, all big Bambi eyes and ruined smiles. 

“You could say that.” Matt chuckled, continuing to press soft kisses across your flushed skin. 

In that moment, you didn’t care about the team’s loss, or Matt’s penalty. He was your winner and you wouldn’t trade him for the world. 

tags ♡: @jake-and-johnnies-slut @chrissfavwh3re @suyqa @chrissturnswife @mbsbaby @herxysc-blog @lovingchrissposts @caffeinatedscorpio @spencereidenthusiast @crazychrisl0v3r @sturnioloxlver @whicked-hazlatwhore @blahbel668 @sturncakez @junnniiieee07 @biggesthat3r @sturniolowhore @patscorner @julesgrl @0strawberrysorbet0 @strombolilovr @matt444nixi @remussbitch @devthepoet1221 @mattyblover07 @loisnotaa @mollyquinnxoxo @graysturns @pepsicolapussy333 @ginswife @emmagirouard @athaliahxoxo @bitchydragonparadise @ilydeaky @soggyslugg169 @m00n-0n-paws @books0fever @stingerayyy2 @sunsetsturniolos @mimi-luvzyu @raysmayhem-72 @faygo-frog @oobleoob @billsslutt @aemrsy

note ♡: if you'd like to be added to my taglist, click here <3

[miley1442111]

(part 1) before his choice- a.donaldson

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a/n: i imagined a fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)

this is like the prelude to the other stuff but i get that it's confusing that it's coming out later- i didn't think i'd turn this into a series so i didn't exactly have a plan, sorry :)

this is 18+, mdni plssss

summary: how it was before art ruined your relationship

pairing: art donaldson x reader

warnings: smuttttt, 18+, piv using protection (don't be silly, wrap it), oral (f receiving), cute couple moments

(i think that's it but pls tell me if i forgot anything:)

Part 1 of 12

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“There goes Stanford’s favourite couple!” Megan rolled her eyes playfully. Art had his arms draped around your shoulders as you walked around campus as the sun set. Art chuckled and flipped her off, smirking as you laughed. Megan had been your roommate in your first year and you’d been best friends ever since.

You and Art were Stanford’s favourite couple. You were tennis prodigies, both extremely talented and both of you were friends with basically everyone. Everyone was always rooting for the two of you, apparently there was a fan page dedicated to your relationship. 

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“How was practice with Tash?” He asked, his arms circling your waist as you leant against the wall, waiting in line in the canteen. 

“Fine, she’s getting better,” You shrugged. Tashi had never been able to beat you, but she was getting better.

“She’s not going to beat you,” He smirked, pressing kisses against your cheeks.

“She’s really good!” You giggled, feeling his hands squeeze your waist harder. “I wouldn’t mind, maybe then she wouldn’t hate me.”

“Tashi doesn’t hate you,” he shook his head. He knew it was a semi-lie, Tashi didn't like loosing. You were the only person capable of making her loose.

“She doesn’t like me Art, it’s fine, I don’t mind,” you sighed. “Anyway, enough tennis, what are we doing tonight?”

Art smirked. “We have that party-”

You groaned. Art always wanted to go out, then leave early. In your opinion, why not just cut out the middleman and go straight to your dorm? “Art, what is the point?”

“You look hot in dresses,” He shrugged and chuckled as you playfully hit him on the arm. “Come on, it’ll be fun! We can dance and hang out with our friends.”

You rolled your eyes at the way he’s pretending it’s a choice. “It’s not like I have a choice, I picked date night last time.” 

“Exactly, so we’re going,” he grinned and you cupped his cheek, kissing him heavily. He was so beautiful, what else were you supposed to do? You pulled away quickly and moved up in the line, beginning to order both your lunches. You drove Art insane sometimes. Your pretty tennis skirts, your sweet lips on his, you. 

He did recognise that his brain was still stuck in the gutter like a teenage boy when it came to sex. He didn’t seem to mind much though. 

He placed his hand on your ass as you ordered for the both of you and he saw how you gulped.

Maybe he wasn’t the only one who’s head was in the gutter. 

You collected your food and sat at a table together, enjoying the canteen food.

“You’ll wear the red dress, right?” He asked. It was his favourite colour, and the colour of the college that the two of you would be representing. 

“No, Nike sent over something for me to wear, I think it’s purple,” you shrugged. Your partnership with Nike meant at every event you went to, you were representing them. That meant they were often sending you new things. 

“Purple?” He questioned.

“Yeah, like plum-y purple,” you shrugged. 

“Can’t wait,” he winked at you and you kicked him under the table. 

Tonight was going to be a long night. 

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You finished styling your hair as Art walked into your dorm, baby blue shirt and some black formal trousers on, his blonde curls looking particularly beautiful. The dress Nike had sent over was beautiful, Art’s jaw dropped when he saw you. 

You were gorgeous. 

“Hey baby,” You smiled at him, pressing a kiss to his stunned cheek. 

“You’re so beautiful,” He stated. You chuckled at him as his hands gripped your waist, making you look at him. “You’re so, so beautiful.”

“You look handsome,” You smiled, smoothing out his collar. “Ready to go?”

“We’re not going anywhere,” he decided, lust-filled eyes staring into yours before he pressed his lips to yours in a searing kiss. 

You kissed back immediately, your hands running through his curls. You probably had a ‘thing’ for his hair. His hands smoothed up the expanse of your back, pulling you impossibly closer. This is what he was, passionate, loving, and a little bit possessive. He radiated heat, his chest against your as he pushed you against the wall, his lips never leaving yours. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered against your lips as your hands dipped lower, going directly for his trousers zipper. 

“So are you,” you smiled, kissing him again. His hands found the zipper at the back of your dress, letting it fall to the floor at your feet. You unzipped him then started working on his shirt buttons, both of you forgetting about the party. 

His hands quickly pulled at your bra and underwear, leaving you bare as he stripped himself, thanking his past self for keeping a stock of condoms in your bedside table. He leaned over, quickly grabbing one and opening it with his teeth, sheathing his hard cock as you looked at him under you. He met your glazed eyes, lustfully looking at him, a soft smile on your face. 

You were so beautiful. 

You sank down on him, never quite used to the stretch he provided. “Fuck,” you moaned out. 

His eyes rolled back as you buried him inside of you. His hands gripped your waist, the faint remnants of bruises left from earlier in the week, when he was in this exact position. He pulled your face down to his as you started moving and started kissing up and down your neck between moans. He changed the position slightly, thrusting up into you to reach the gummy spot inside of you that made you scream out for him.

“God,” he groaned. “Fuck… f-fuck.”

You felt so good around him, it was one of his favourite feelings, the absolute euphoria of having your wrapped around him, using him to get yourself off.  

“You’re so good,” you whined breathlessly. “So good.”

Your voice and moans spurred him on, he loved your voice. He loved everything about you. 

“You gonna cum?” He whined, thrusting up into you. You nodded, bouncing on him harder as you began reaching your climax. He felt you tighten around him and he gasped, trying to not cum so quickly. 

“I’m c-cumming,” You groaned in his ear and he was a goner. He cupped your cheek, hap-harzardly kissing you to swallow the scream that was bound to leave his lips. You gripped his hips to still his uncoordinated and subscious thrusts as you both came down from your highs. 

Art still wasn’t done, he needed to taste you. “Let me taste it, please?” He begged, pulling himself out of you. “Please?”

“Art, we’re already late,” you reminded him through your sex-fueled haze. 

“Please, just let me kiss it,” he begged, kissing down your body, his fingers finding your sopping core. You moaned at the contact and nodded, a meek ‘please’ leaving your lips. 

That was all the confirmation Art needed. He latched his lips onto your clit, drawing out moan after moan. His fingers pumped in and out of you slowly, paying special attention to your g-spot. His tongue sucked over your over-sensitive clit and brought you to another two orgasms, not being able to stop himself from humping the bed in his enchanted state. He loved how you tasted, he couldn’t get enough of it, he never wanted to. If he could spend his days between your legs he would. 

After you came for the third time that night, he connected your lips again and smiled at you. “Thank you.”

Your fucked-out face was truly a sight to behold, and he had the pleasure of seeing it whenever he pleased. 

“Come on, we have a party to go to,” He smirked and you whined as he cleaned you up by running three fingers through your soaking core and licking them clean. 

He appreciated the new marks on your neck that he had created as you slowly got up. You dressed yourself in the beautiful dress once again, fixing your hair and makeup, then spraying yourself with some more perfume, attempting to cover the smell of sex. 

As you sat in the passenger seat of his car, he thought about how perfect you were, his hand in yours as he drove you to the party. 

Little did he know that this party would lead to the beginning of the end of your relationship.

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art donaldson masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

[middlepartmatt]

Hotshot

“you're buried in the pillow, yeah you're so loud... but i'm about to show you, baby, slow down” — SLOW DOWN, chase atlantic

SUMMARY: you and matt have been enemies since you were kids, but one night when you're forced to share a bed with him, everything changes.

WARNINGS: smut, mainly dom!matt, mainly sub!reader, oral (fem receiving), doggy lol

AUTHOR’S NOTE: first smut on here i am NERVOUSSSSSSSSSSS but anyway this is an outtake from my matt fic on wattpad causeeeeee i can't be getting cancelled on that silly little app... i hope u enjoy lol. ALSO if you don't like smut that's not really my issue so just don't read it!

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"I'm not sleeping in here."

Matt rolls his eyes, crossing his arms as he looks from you to the bed, then back again. 

"Nick and Chris are already asleep," he says. "So unless you wanna go and wake them up, you're stuck with me."

You sigh, looking around the room.

"I'll just sleep on the couch," you decide.

"It's not like we haven't slept together in the same bed before," he reminds you, referring to when you would have sleepovers with the triplets back when you were kids. He pulls off his black tee and climbs into the bed. "So just get in."

Your eyes widen, but you obey, climbing in on the other side. You immediately roll over, turning away from Matt since you knows he's facing the middle. Why does he always have to face the middle? It infuriates you.

To your surprise, Matt doesn't say anything else. Considering you'd just been having an argument for five minutes about the sleeping situation, you'd expected him to try and get in one last dig at you before you both go to sleep. He's not done that though, instead he's fallen completely silent.

You know he isn't asleep. When Matt's asleep, his breathing becomes heavier, a little ragged, but right now he's silent as ever. You shift uncomfortably under the blanket, not sure what to make of the situation. Matt's right; you've slept in a bed together before, yet it feels weird now, with his brothers in the room just next door.

But it's not just that.

It also feels weird because of the fact that you feels the need to cross your legs, and that your heart is beating faster than usual. Matt's room, which is usually freezing, seems boiling hot right now. You're thinking that it just might have to do with the fact that Matt's currently shirtless.

Matt moves, causing you to be snapped out of your thoughts and jolt at the movement. You inhale sharply, feeling your eyes on her back.

"'s something the matter?" he questions.

"Nope," you reply quickly, but your voice betrays you. 

"You sure?" Matt hums. "You seem uncomfortable."

"Just shut up and go to sleep," you snap. Matt just chuckles.

"Night, angel," he says, using that infuriating nickname he'd given you back in elementary school. Angel. It's not supposed to be a compliment, but rather make fun of you for supposedly being a goody-two shoes, which you personally don't think you are.

"Night, hotshot," you answer. You started calling him this a few years ago, when he was promoted to main goalie of the lacrosse, and also when he and his brothers started getting popular on YouTube. Annoyingly, he doesn't seem to hate the nickname as much as you hate yours.

You closes your eyes but still, your senses pick up on his every breath, every shift of his body in the pitch black darkness. Yeah, you're definitely not getting any sleep tonight.

You hear Matt moving around, then suddenly feel something cold on your waist. It takes you a moment to realize it's Matt's hand, now resting lightly on your hip.

You stare straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge the touch. Maybe it's an accident? you think, but there's no way Matt would accidentally put his hand on you.

Okay, now you are most definitely not getting any sleep tonight. Not that you really mind though, to be honest. 

You feels his fingers slide up your stomach, tracing the curve of your hip. You shiver involuntarily, and his hand slides back down, grazing the hem of your tank top.

"Is this okay?" he whispers, and you just nod. You're not even sure you'd be able to speak, anyway.

You then feels his hand move upwards again, slowly, deliberately, until it reaches the bottom of your breast. You gasp softly, arching your back slightly, offering him better access. His hand cups your tit, squeezing gently, making you moan softly. His thumb brushes against your nipple, sending a jolt through your body.

You can't help but let out a small whimper. His fingers are still pinching your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and you can feel you core starting to throb.

You close your eyes, biting your bottom lip. You can feel his breath on your neck, and you slowly pulls his hand off of you so that you can turn around to face him. You tilt your head up to meet his lips. His tongue slips into your mouth as he kisses you deeply.

After a second you break the kiss, panting. "Matt," you say, barely above a whisper. 

"Yes, angel?" he replies.

"You shaved," you point out. Last you'd noticed, he had a little bit of stubble where he hadn't bothered shaving the last couple of days. 

"Thought it would make for a smoother ride," he murmurs in response, and he kisses her again. You feels yourself getting wetter at his words as you kiss him back, your hands roaming over his chest. Matt kisses your neck, trailing his tongue along your skin, and you arch your back once again, pressing yourself against him. You can feel him against your front, and just the touch of his dick against you only makes you needier for him.

Matt moves his hands down your body, pulling your tank top up over her head. You lift your arms, allowing him to remove it completely. He trails kissed on your collarbone, before moving down your stomach. You lie back, letting him take control. 

You lets out a soft whimper as he reaches your pyjama shorts, toying with the edge of the waistband.

"Matt," you whimper. He doesn't reply, pulls them down along with your underwear, exposing you.

"You're so wet," he muses, a grin present on his lips. "Is this all for me, angel?"

"Obviously," you answer, rolling your eyes. Becoming impatient, you grab a fistful of his hair and pull him towards you.

He licks your slit, tasting you. You moan, arching your hips towards him. His tongue flicks over your clit, making you shudder, before he begins sucking on it gently. You moan louder now, grinding your hips against his face. He licks your clit again, and you cover your mouth with your hand to stop yourself from crying out.

Matt pushes two fingers inside of you, causing you to cry out in pleasure. You grab onto his shoulders, digging your nails into his skin. He slides his fingers in and out of you, making you writhe beneath him. You bite your lip, trying not to make too much noise.

He puts his thumb on your clit, rubbing it slowly. You're slowly coming undone, moaning loudly, but he doesn't stop as he continues to rub your clit while he fingers you. 

"I want your tongue again, hotshot," you say breathlessly, and Matt simply grins before obeying, moving forward and licking up your slit once again. You yelp, her whole body responding to his action. "Keep going," you order, and he does, tipping you over the edge.

"Fuck, Matt, fuck," you whimper as you cum, legs shaking under Matt's touch. 

You collapse onto the mattress, breathing heavily. Matt kisses your stomach, moving up to kiss your lips again. You taste yourself on his lips and you moan, reaching out to stroke his cock through his pyjama pants. Matt exhales sharply, bucking his hips into you.

You smirk, pulling down both his pyjama pants and boxers, before taking hold of his cock and stroking it gently. He groans as you run your finger over his slit, stroking him faster until you can feel him about to cum. Already. 

You stop, and he glares at you. His eyes are dark in this dim lighting, fueled with desire just for you.

"Don't tease me, angel," he says quietly.

"What?" you ask sweetly. "I want to taste you."

It looks like it takes all of Matt's strength not to cum at your words. Instead he just nods, and so you climb on top of him, straddling him. You crane your body downwards, and he watches as you take his cock into your mouth. You swirl your tongue around the tip, making him groan.

You take more of him into your mouth, bobbing your head up and down. He holds your head, thrusting his cock deeper into your mouth. You gag, but refuse to pull away.

"Just like that, baby," he tells you, his hand still gripping your hair tightly. "Fuck," he whimpers, and you almost come undone at the sound alone. "Jesus, angel... yeah... just like that," he mumbles to himself, eyes closed as he throws his head back while you continue to suck him.

You feels him finish, shooting his hot cum into your mouth. You swallow it all, moaning, and he finally pulls you off of him. You sit up, wiping the cum from your mouth. Once you've regained focus, you see that he's already half-hard again.

"Want me to fuck you?" he asks nonchalantly like he wasn't just whimpering for you moments before. You just nod, moving up and kneeling on the mattress. Matt gets behind you, rubbing his cock against your opening. Without warning, he slides it inside of you, making you gasp.

He begins fucking you, pushing his cock deep inside of you. You moan, pressing your ass further up against him.

"Matt," you groan, causing Matt to thrust faster and harder. "Matt," you repeat, and he moans.

"Keep doing that, baby," he tells you.

"Matt," you breathe. It's all you can say as he continues fucking you, his cock going deeper inside of you with every thrust.

"Fuck, angel," he mutters. "You have no idea what you're doing to me."

He continues to fuck you, making you scream out in pleasure. He pulls your hair, and you groan at the harshness of his touch. You arch further into him, noticing how it makes his hips buck harder into you.

"Matt," you whisper, hearing the way he moans loudly as his name leaves your lips.

"Angel, oh my God..."

"You there yet, hotshot?"

Matt shakes his head, refusing to fall for your teasing. He pulls out, causing your mouth to fall open in shock, before he rubs his tip against your clit. You moan loudly, wanting nothing more than for him to continue fucking you as he was before.

He slides his cock back inside of you, and you whimper in pleasure. He thrusts harder into you, making you cry out. He starts fucking you faster, making you moan even louder. On a high, you reach between her legs, playing with your clit.

"Am I not good enough for you, baby?" he questions, laughing dryly.

"Help me out here," you answer. "I'm almost there, fuck!"

He reaches down, grabbing your hand. He makes you keep playing with yourself, all while he fucks you harder, making you moan louder. He pulls your hand away, and you cry out.

"I'm cumming, Matt," you whimper, and he unravels at the sound of his name leaving your lips, thrusting harder as his orgasm bursts through him. You finish too, letting out a loud moan as you shudder, the feeling coursing through your body.

Matt pulls out, and both of you immediately roll over and lie back down on the bed. You lay in silence, apart from their ragged breathing. A moment later, he turns to face you.

"Still not wanna sleep in here?" he asks smugly. You roll your eyes.

"I said sleep, not fuck," you scoff. "Now shut up or I'm gonna be showering alone."

Matt does in fact shut up.

────

AUTHOR'S NOTE PT.2: hi LOL ??? i never know what to say in author's notes it's always so awkward but anyway... feel free to request anything you wanna see: matt, chris, or both!

[flkwh0re]

Babysitter

Warnings: Mommy kink (W), age gap, slight pervy Wanda, Masturbation, Somno, slight Dubcon, cheating (Wanda cheats on Vision), little fluffy! (please tell me if i left some warnings out!!)

Wc: 1.6k

A/n: If you don’t like this idc :) just scroll or block me if you don’t like this content!

part two here

——————————⧗ᗢ——————————

You had been babysitting the Maximoff twins since you were in high school, but now being in college you were hardly ever able to. That was until Wanda found out you were home for a few days and sent you a text asking if you didn't mind to watch the boys for the evening while her and her husband went out for dinner.

You never liked Jarvis, he would always give you weird looks when Wanda was around you. You had noticed a change in Wanda's demeanor towards you when you came home again a couple months ago. You just brushed it off as him being weird, but you were completely wrong.

Little did you know Wanda had not been able to get you out of her mind, she would catch herself thinking about you at all points of the day. She thought it was just because she missed you, but when she found herself with her fingers buried in her pussy, holding her phone displaying a picture of yourself you had posted on Instagram. It felt so wrong, but oh so right.

You hesitantly rung the doorbell, waiting for someone to answer the door. You never understood your shyness around Wanda, you thought it was some silly little teenage girl crush. It most definitely wasn't as it strengthened in you adulthood.

"Hi sweetheart!" Wanda greeted happily, pulling you into a hug. The smell of her perfume crowded your senses, making you feel weak. "Ugh, I've missed you so much!" She placing a little kiss on your forehead, a tint of pink gracing you cheeks. "I've missed you too, Wanda."

She brought you to the living room, and made some little small talk with you while she waited for Jarvis. She asked you all about your second year in college, the trips you had taken, your friends, and lots more. Wanda just loved hearing you talk about things you do, and things you loved.

You were interrupted by Jarvis' trudge down the stairs. "Darling, are you ready?" He said smugly, giving you a look. "Yes, let me call the boys down. Y/n there's chicken nuggets in the freezer, you can fix them for them. Kitchen is yours so you fix whatever you want, house too. Once the boys are asleep feel free to do whatever, just don't destroy the house." She send you a little wink, and you nodded your head.

"Boys!" She called out to her twin boys, and they came running out of their room. "Tommy, Billy. Mommy and daddy are going out tonight, be on your best behavior for Y/n." The two boys nodded eagerly, excited for their evening with you. Wanda said her goodbyes to you as Jarvis stood annoyed and impatient. Once they had left you turned to the boys, "Who's ready for some fun!?"

Wanda and Jarvis had been gone for an hour now, Tommy and Billy were eating their dinner while you prepared yours. They excited to finish, because you promised if they did you'd all play on their shared playstation for a few hours.

After you all had finished, you played until it was time for them to go to bed. Their protest made you giggle as you drug them up to bed. "Sorry boys, but your mom would kill me if you weren't in bed on time." They both groaned, but still complied nonetheless.

You walked back down to the living room, curling up on the couch taking your laptop out of your bag, hoping to get some work done for your classes. You didn't know you'd wind up clutching onto a blanket coated in Wanda's sent, your nimble fingers rubbing your clit. The tips of your fingers prod at your aching hole, as you imagined Wanda's fingers buried deep inside you.

The sudden sound of the door opening, sent you into a panic. You pulled your hand out, trying to readjust the blanket as best as possible. You get on your phone and scroll through TikTok trying to seem as normal as possible. "Hey sweetheart we're back." Wanda said as Jarvis walked off. "Hi Wanda, give me just a second and I'll be out of your hair.”

"Oh Y/n why don't you spend the night, it's too late for a girl your age to be out this late." She insisted. "Wanda I'm not a little girl anymore." You chuckled, walking into the hallway by the door where Wanda stood. "Oh but you are, you're my little girl." Wanda said, your face heating up.

"W-wanda I-" She cut you off by placing a her finger on your lips. "Shh, let mommy do the thinking. Stay the night, and once Jarvis goes to bed I'll come back to you." She husk in your ear, her hand snaking around your front. "But Wanda, h-he's your husband.. you’re married." She laughed, "You don't think I'm aware? He's not been much of onefor years, and I can't get my mind off you. I need you sweet girl, please let mommy have you."

You hesitate, but nod your head. Her hand slips underneath your shirt, groping at your tits. "We have time for a little fun real quick." She whispered into your ear, the sultry tone in her voice makes you shiver. Her hand runs down your body and slips into your pants, rubbing your slit through your panties. She gasp as she feels how wet you are, "You're so wet detka, what were you doing? Tell mommy."

"I-I was on your couch, t-touching myself." You whimpered out, any dignity you had was now gone. Her fingers slip into your panties, rubbing your swollen clit. She sucks lightly on your neck, leaving little marks on your delicate skin.

Her slender fingers plunge into your aching cunt, thrusting steadily in and out of you. You try your best to choke back your moans, but you accidentally let a loud moan slip past your lips. Wanda quickly brought her hand to your mouth, covering it. "Shh be a good girl for mommy, we don't want my husband to catch us now do we?" You shake your head, indicating a desperate no.

Your legs begin to buckle, as your orgasm crashes through. Muffled moans escape your throat, as Wanda fucks you through your orgasm. The hand on your mouth retracts as she helps your regain composure. You watch her as she sucks your slick off her fingers, moaning around the digits as she savors your taste.

"I can't wait to taste you for real baby." Wanda says excitedly, as she pulls you into a kiss. "Alright, let's get you to bed. I'll be back down in about an hour.” She says as she leads you to the spare room.

You tried your best to get a little sleep, and right before Wanda came in you managed to doze off. She smiled at your sleeping state, pulling the sheets of your body. She softly moves your body so she can remove your shorts and panties. A groan escapes her lips at you still dripping cunt.

She places her head between your legs, dropping soft kisses on you thighs. Her tongue licking soft licks on your swollen clit, running down to your hole prodding at it. It wasn't until Wanda harshly sucked on your clit, that you began to stir awake. Little whimpers and moans escaped your sleepy self, thighs softly clamping around Wanda's head.

"You taste so good detka," she whispered into your pussy, the vibration of her voice making you whimper even more. She loved how vocal you were, how sensitive and reactive you were. She hasn't had sex like this ever, Jarvis could never truly give her pleasure.

She slipped her digits into your cunt. "Oh fuck mommy!" You moaned at the sudden fullness. You loved feeling so desperate and weak for Wanda, and she loved it too. "Fuck! 'M gonna cum mommy!" Groans and cries left you as she fucked you hard through the ecstatic orgasm.

She straddled her bare pussy on yours, rutting it against yours. "Mm no mommy, 'm too tired. Please st-stop." You begged her, but the thrust of her hips quickened. "No detka, mommy wants to cum. Help make mommy cum."

Her slick mixed with yours, her pussy rubbing on your own sensitive one made you feel crazy. "Fuck sweetheart, mommy's gonna cum! Cum with mommy." With her demand, cum gushed from you leaking onto her pussy, mixing with her own cum.

"Good girl, mommy's so proud of you." She said, placing a soft kiss on your lips. "You think you can give mommy one more? I wanna ride your face." You nodded sloppily.

She slipped off your body, straddling your face. Her slick cunt making contact with your lips. Your tongue slipped past your lips, licking a bold stripe on her pussy. "Fuck, just like that detka."

You swap from weakly licking and sucking on her core, you tried your best but you were so week from your previous orgasms you couldn't keep a steady pace. Wanda pitied you and ordered you to stick your tongue out, grinding her cunt on it. Getting just enough friction to cum. Her cum dripped down your throat, you had never tasted someone as good as her.

"You did so good for me baby, such a good good girl!" Wanda praised. "Thank you mommy." You weakly squeaked.

Wanda laid down next to you, pulling your smaller body into her. Kiss your lips softly, then your forehead. Wanda knew she had to do something about Jarvis, she just had to make you hers so bad! She'd do whatever she had to, just to keep you for herself.

masterlist

[grandlinedreams]

|| notes: because I think this trope is always hilarious and also very cute

|| warnings: the Inner Circle (Mor and Cass) being nosy, fluff, Az and reader being silly and cute, alcohol mention

"You've been spending an awful lot of time with Azriel lately."

Looking up from the book you've been reading, you meet Mor's questioning look with one of confusion. "Is there something wrong with that?"

"No," Mor protests, "I was just wondering."

You raise an eyebrow, eyeing her. There's an edge to her tone that you're not sure that you like, as if she's trying to get you to admit to something. "He's my friend," you say slowly, "and I like spending time with my friends."

Mor hums. "That's fair," she says, then drums her fingers on the table. "Speaking of friends, we're friends, right?"

"Of course," you agree. Where is she going with this? Had you done something to make her doubt your friendship?

Mor watches you carefully, weighing her words before she says them. "And you'd tell me if you were interested in anyone, right? Romantically, I mean."

The look you give her is equal parts suspicion and befuddlement. "Probably? Mor, what is this about?"

"Nothing, nothing," she reassures you hurriedly. "Listen, we're going to Rita's tonight. As in me, Cass, Nes, and Azriel." She pauses. "I think he'd like it if you went with us."

You close your book. "I'll go," you say, and Mor beams. "But what does Az wanting me there have to do with—"

"Great!" Mor chirps, pulling away. "We'll be leaving at eight!"

And then she's gone, leaving you more bewildered than you've ever been.

Your friends are up to something. You know that they are, considering Mor's behavior from earlier, and now their (Mor, and now Cassian) insistence that you sit next to Azriel in the booth.

"I can't pick my seat?" You ask, and Cassian shakes his head.

"Nope," he grins, and you throw Nesta a pleading look that she answers with one of quiet amusement.

"Okay..." Not that you truly mind sitting next to the spymaster, but it's made strange for the way Mor and Cassian are watching the two of you and sharing looks you're sure they think are subtle.

"[Name] looks nice," Mor prompts after a while, "right, Az?"

You blink as Azriel turns towards you, and the slow sweep of his eyes over you makes your cheeks warm more than the alcohol does.

"Yes," he says quietly, and your lips quirk when you catch his eye before you turn back towards your drink. Whatever it is that Cassian and Mor are looking for or trying to incite, you're not sure, but you don't miss the look of frustrated confusion the pair share.

Cassian rallies himself for another attempt at whatever it is they're up to, and you cut him off. "I think I'm going to head back," you say, apologetic smile tugging at your lips. "I'm tired."

Mor looks like she's going to protest, only to stop when Azriel moves to follow you when you slip from the booth. "I'll come with you."

You don't protest, but you also catch the pleased look Cassian and Mor share before you step out of Rita's. The night air is a little cooler than expected and when you shiver, Azriel steps closer. "Cold?"

"A little," you admit, and you don't protest the wrap of his arm over your shoulders, pulling you closer.

Once you're far enough away from Rita's, Azriel speaks again. "Cassian is convinced that I have feelings for you."

You look up at him, finding him watching you already, coming to a halt. "And?" You prompt, raising an eyebrow, "do you?"

Azriel's eyes gleam with amusement as he leans down, meeting the answering upward tip of your head so he can kiss you. It's sweet and familiar, and you press to make it linger a little longer before he pulls away. "I think you know the answer to that."

"I do," you grin. "How long do you think it'll take them to realize that we're already together?"

Azriel snorts. "Longer than you think, honestly." He tugs you to him, enveloping you in his arms to ward off the chill of night. "I take it that you have feelings for me too?"

You huff a laugh, pressing a kiss to his chest. "I think you know the answer to that," you answer.

Azriel's lips meet the top of your head. "I do."

[moonstruckme]

Hey queen what about a lil fic of reader with one of the boys (u can pick whoever!!) where it's her first healthy relationship and May be she thanks them for being nice and he's just like ummm I don't wanna be mean to u

Thanks for requesting lovely!

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

You have a habit of complaining into the void. It’s not the first text you send James griping about your day at work and it likely won’t be the last, but you’re surprised when the result is him turning up at your desk with flowers and a coffee. 

“James,” you say dumbly, looking up in absolute astoundment as he sets the flowers carefully by your keyboard and bends down for a kiss. 

“Hi, angel.” James presses the coffee into your hand. Spots the empty desk next to yours and, with a quick glance around, steals the chair, sitting beside you. “Are you still on your lunch break?” 

“I—yeah.” Your brain can’t quite make sense of him at your work. It’s like being a kid and seeing your teacher at the store. James, with his casual clothes and easy smile, doesn’t belong in this place. “I’ve got twenty minutes left. What are you doing here?” 

“You seemed like you were having a rough morning,” he says simply. “I thought I might see if I could come and make you feel a bit better—don’t worry, I brought supplies.” 

He shrugs out of one strap of his backpack, swinging it around onto his lap and pulling out a small vase. James seems too distracted to have noticed your stupefaction. 

“Do you have a sink around here?” 

You point him towards the break room and he hurries off, returning a minute later to arrange your flowers in the vase. 

“I know it might be silly,” he says, as he works with a care that belies his words, “but I was thinking that if I was stuck in one place all day, it might help me to have something nice to look at. I considered getting you a mirror, but I thought you may have grown used to that particular sight so I ought to mix it up.”

James glances up to catch your reaction to the last bit, dimples appearing when you fluster. As he sits back down, his gaze roams your workspace, largely empty as most of your coworkers have gone to lunch. He swivels the chair from side to side absentmindedly, his knees brushing yours with each pass. It feels like someone striking a match. 

“I didn’t know you had so few windows in here.” He blows out a breath. “We should hit a park or something after you’re off tonight, get you some time in the sun.” 

“That sounds nice,” you say, lifting the coffee in your hand to your lips reflexively. 

It’s not until you register the taste that you think to look at the logo on the cup. It’s from your favorite coffee shop, the one with only one location, which you almost never go to because it’s so far from where you work and live. 

“James,” you say, voice soft with wonder, “did you go all the way across town to get this?” 

“Yeah.” He smiles, tilting his head sideways to rest it on his palm. “That’s the one you like, right?” 

“Yeah, but…” You shake your head, grinning. “You’re crazy,” you say, when you mean to say You’re incredible. 

“Crazy for you.” He makes a disgusted face as he says it, laughing at himself. You can’t bring yourself to do the same. 

You remember a time, not so long ago, when you would have felt lucky if the person you were dating responded to your texts at all. James has responded in person, with kind words and gifts and a thoughtfulness that’s going to brighten not just the rest of your day but your week. You’ve no idea what to do with this much sweetness. 

You shake your head again. “Thank you. Seriously, I—this is too nice. You’re so—” You lean forward, running your forefinger over the stubble on his jaw as you peck him on the lips. His smile leaps up on his face. “You’re so sweet to me, Jamie. Thank you.” 

“I don’t mind, sweetheart, really.” James palms the back of your elbow, his touch trailing down to your wrist as you pull away. “I like doing things for you. You deserve it.” 

You smile at him, letting the sincerity in his voice warm your chest. “Nobody’s ever been this nice to me before,” you admit. 

James’ expression heavies slightly, a divot forming in between his brows. You feel embarrassed for having said it. You don’t mean to sound self-pitying, you only want James to understand how much you appreciate him, how unprecedented he is for you. 

He smooths his thumb over the hairs on your arm. “I want you to be happy,” he says, a carefulness to his words that’s so unlike his usual quick, energetic way of speaking. “Angel, I’ve got no reason to be anything but nice to you, because it makes me happy to see you happy. It’s like—” He glances away from your face for a moment, biting the inside of his cheek as he thinks. “Like I’m getting to see you the way you’re supposed to be, does that make sense?”

He looks to you for confirmation. You can only stare back at him in stunned silence, horrendously in love and falling deeper by the second. James must find whatever he’s looking for in your expression, though, because he gives your wrist a friendly squeeze and goes on. 

“You’re supposed to be happy. You’re supposed to be treated nicely, no matter who you’re with, but I’m happy to be the person who gets to treat you that way.” He lifts his eyebrows as though to be sure you’re listening, lips quirking slightly. “And you’re nicer than nice to me, so I don’t want to hear any of this crap about bringing you flowers and a coffee being too nice. Got it?” 

Your face is a furnace. You don’t know how to respond. 

James grins, looking ten percent smug and ninety percent smitten. “Say okay, sweetheart.” 

“Okay,” you echo, unable to help breaking into a smile of your own. “Thanks.” 

James groans. He grabs the seat of your chair, rolling you closer to him until your knees are on either side of his. “Enough with the thanks,” he chides, more laughter than irritation in his tone. “Those other people sound like assholes, lovely. We’ve gotta up your standards.” 

[slayfics]

Late night texting with Eijiro.

Warnings: Eijiro aged up | NSFW themes

Eijiro tossed and turned in bed unable to drift to sleep with the memories of today's spar plaguing his mind. He had been rougher with you than he intended to today and he couldn't help but feel guilty.

Giving in to his worry Eijiro grabbed his phone and decided to message you.

Hey, I just wanted to say I'm really sorry about today's spar. I didn't intend to be so rough. I hope you're alright.

You responded to him almost right away,

Kirishima it's late you should be asleep!

I couldn't help it! I just wanted to make sure you were doing ok.

I'm fine, no need to worry. Look, it isn't even that bad.

You texted and sent over a picture of your injuries from the spar. Eijiro felt his breath catch in his throat as soon as his eyes focused on the image.

You were lying in bed and had pulled your shirt up to show the injuries to your abdomen left from the spar.

He knew you were just trying to ease his mind by showing him the injuries weren't anything to worry about, but he couldn't help his mouth from falling open and his cheeks warmed by an excited blush.

The image showcased your body so perfectly lying delicately in bed. Eijiro couldn't look away from it as badly as he wanted to. This isn't manly at all. He thought as he found himself excited by a picture of your bruised body. Even still knowing it was wrong, his grip tightened on his phone and his heart rate increased the longer he stared.

Just as his hormones shot him nefarious thoughts causing his member to enlarge, you messaged him again.

Hello? You fall asleep on me Kiri?

Fuck, he typed out a response fast.

I'm still up! I guess it's not too bad, but I'm still sorry!

Stop apologizing! Besides, I got you pretty good too right?

Yeah, you did! You did amazing today!

Alright, let's see it then!

Eijiro felt himself freeze for a second time tonight. You- You wanted a picture of him? Eijiro shook all crude thoughts out of his mind. Don't be a perv, he told himself. You were just wanting to make sure his injuries weren't bad.

Eijiro must have been contemplating the meaning of your request for longer than he thought because you texted him again.

Unless you feel uncomfortable then it's totally fine you don't have to!

No no, it's fine! Give me a second!

Eijiro jumped out of bed panicking. You wanted a picture of him! He looked around his room and clumsily stumbled into the restroom deciding that was the best place to do it.

Ok ok, you can do this, he thought trying to hype himself up. Besides he is usually shirtless in his hero costume right? But for some reason, this felt so different. Eijiro struggled to keep his hands from shaking as he ripped off his shirt and nervously took selfies in front of the mirror.

What the hell am I doing, he second-guessed himself as he scrolled through the pictures he took deciding on the best one. Finally settling on one he nervously pressed the send button.

Your response came in minutes but felt like ages as he shakingly waited. Did he show too much skin, he wondered? He hoped his picture didn't look too suggestive. But you asked for one right? So it's fine, he thought, trying to ease himself.

Eijiro's eyes snapped to his phone as soon as it buzzed with a response from you.

Damn.

Was all your message said.

Damn, what?! He thought, running his hands over his face. Maybe you meant his injuries? Of course, right? That is what you two were talking about.

Yeah, you got me pretty good, but don't worry I'm alright!

He responded, commenting on the darkened bruises on his own abdomen that you had given him.

Not the injuries silly. You. You look good.

Eijiro's face burnt red hot reading your message. Do you really think he looked good? Was that the real reason you had asked him for a picture? Were the injuries just an excuse to ask, he wondered.

You look good too.

He typed and sent before thinking, panic caused him to quickly send a follow-up text.

Oh man, that sounded so pervy I'm sorry! I didn't mean for that to be weird or anything!

However, you didn't respond to Eijiro with a text but with another picture instead. This one was more provocative than the last showcasing even more of your body.

Eijiro suddenly felt his sweats become tighter as his excitement grew at the revelation that you were doing this on purpose. You wanted him to look at you with lustful eyes.

Yet again, Eijiro found himself staring too long causing you to send him a follow-up text.

Don't be rude, send one back.

Eijiro dabbed at the blood beginning to leak from his nose, as he realized: this was going to be a long night.

Tags: @unofficialmuilover @maddietries

[lovebugism]

Okay maybe Eddie bought a silly couple costumes for himself and r (something cute with “Why aren’t you wearing a costume?” and “I’m not wearing that.”) 🩷

ty for requesting lovie! happy fictober! ily! — eddie buys you a costume you don't feel pretty enough to wear and the gang crashes your cuddling session (hints of smut, hurt/comfort, established relationship, 2.5k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Your bare bodies stick together beneath a decade-old quilt. Eddie’s nice enough to let you use his lanky bicep as a makeshift pillow while you cuddle on the couch. His other hand hovers over your face, smoothing out the subtle furrow between your brows with the pad of his thumb.

“What’s this face for, huh?” he singsongs into the heavy, golden, post-sex silence of the trailer. His smile is swollen and crooked and barely there. It’s a very hushed sunshine compared to your distant pout.

“‘Cause I still feel bad,” you confess, voice so soft it’s nearly inaudible. Your feet knock with Eddie’s when your anxious legs entwine with his. “I made you miss that movie.”

“You didn’t make me miss shit,” Eddie laughs, assertive but not unkind. His warm palm spreads over your cheek. His chocolate eyes dance between both of yours. “I stayed in ‘cause I wanted to, alright? I wanted to spend time with you.”

“You called me a succubus,” you tease with a gentle giggle.

He had, though he doesn’t have much recollection of it. You looked far too pretty underneath him, and he’d been far too close to his orgasm. 

His hips rutted sloppily against yours, his rhythm gone totally stupid after feeling you gush around him. “Fuck— oh, fuck,” he babbled into the sticky skin of your neck, voice tighter and higher than usual. “You’re a goddamn succubus, you know that, baby? Pussy’s so good… I’d fucking— I’d do anything you wanted me to— shit.”

His legs are still numb from the mind-blowing climax he had a moment later.

Eddie’s chuckle is louder and more boyish than yours. It fills the trailer with sunlight. “Well, yeah. ‘Cause you are. Which means I’d much rather be here with you than at The Hawk with all those other schmucks.”

He kisses you to seal his promise — a chaste peck upon your smiling mouth. It’s beautifully innocuous compared to how good he was making you feel hardly more than five minutes ago.

“I know you don’t like those movies anyway, so…”

“That’s not true,” you argue with a very believable pout.

His gaze goes sympathetic. “Babe… You almost cried when we watched Nightmare on Elm Street the other day.”

“No, I didn’t!” You most certainly did.

“You said you weren’t gonna sleep ever again.”

“I like horror movies ‘cause you like horror movies, dummy.”

The term of endearment makes him grin. He likes it when you get all mean, though you never really mean it. “Is that so?” he lilts with raised brows that disappear behind his fuzzy bangs. The ends of the umber strands are damp with sweat.

You nod lazily against his arm. His fingers are starting to tingle with numbness, but he loves you too much to move.

“Mm-hmm. That’s how relationships work. Compromise. I tolerate horror movies, and you tolerate—”

“Your Harrison Ford obsession?”

You lose your firmness and get all sheepish. “Shut up…”

“I’m pretty sure they were showing Return of the Jedi in the theater over, right after Sleepaway Camp,” Eddie observes suddenly, brushing stray strands of your wild hair from your temple. “We coulda had a double feature tonight, but you wanted to stay in with little old me.”

“That’s ‘cause I love you a whole lot more than some guy I’ve never met.”

Eddie beams at your words. His eyes start to glitter like he’s won something, and his cheeks speckle pink with pride. He’ll never get tired of hearing you say that. He’ll never get tired of you loving him.

“I’m flattered,” he singsongs and means it.

You smile and lean in to kiss his grin. The boy gasps before you can. He springs up from the couch at a moment’s notice, climbing over you with naked limbs. He flashes you his bare ass just before he tugs on the crumbled pair of boxers left forgotten on the floor.

“What are you doing?” you wonder aloud, eyes narrowed in curiosity and mouth quirked in amusement. You twist on the couch so you’re propped against the back of it. You clutch the heavy quilt to your naked chest.

“I forgot something,” Eddie mumbles, halfway to himself, then sends you a lighthearted glare over his shoulder. “Don’t move!”

You still, grinning softly at the boy as you peer at him from beneath your lashes. You watch him while he rifles through a plastic bag beside the TV stand. “I got us something while I was at the Halloween store with Harrington earlier,” Eddie explains over the noisy crinkling sound.

“Oh, god…” you murmur.

Eddie laughs and looks at you over his shoulder again. “C’mon, babe. Have a little hope, would you?”

He returns to the couch with a smirk and something he hides behind his back. He grins like a kid when he reveals them to you — two packages of Star Wars themed costumes held in both his hands. 

Pictured on one is a guy who looks eerily like Han Solo — complete with the vest, blouse, and holster triad. The other is an uncanny Leia Organa in a skin-tight white suit, beige knee-high boots, and a flowing cape.

You blink at both of them, then at Eddie. 

“…I don’t know what I’m looking at.”

“Our Halloween costumes!” he exclaims with a beam. “See, I’m gonna be Han Solo— ‘cause I’m, you know, charming and sarcastic and handsome.”

“Don’t forget humble,” you joke with a lovesick grin.

“—And you will be my beautiful, hard-headed Leia Organa.”

You glance again at the package in his right hand, at the pretty woman on the cover. You know you won’t look nearly as good in the costume as she does. Your soft smile flickers. 

“Eds…” you mutter in a wavering lilt.

A frown forms between his bushy brows, similar to the one you’d been sporting earlier. “What?”

“I told you I wasn’t gonna dress up this year, remember?” you remind him, shifting awkwardly on the couch and clutching the blanket closer to yourself.

“But it’s Halloween, babe! Why wouldn’t you wear a costume?”

Your mouth opens and closes as you stammer out an excuse. “Because— I don’t know— I’m too… indecisive. Like, that’s a lot of pressure.”

“That’s why I picked for you!” Eddie grins, totally oblivious.

You laugh. It’s a bit cynical but not totally unkind. “I am not wearing that.”

He pouts, like a child or a hurt puppy. “But why not?” he wonders with a crestfallen inflection.

Again, you stammer. “Because— I mean— Just look at her, Eds!” you gesture to the package he holds with a significant focus to the girl on the front. “I don’t look like her!”

He grows from sad to confused. His brows pinch as he tilts his head to the side. His wild curls tickle his bare, pale shoulder. “Oh… kay?” he mutters, trying his best to understand you but not getting it completely.

You huff. Your chest stings as you explain it all to him.

“I’m… I’m not gonna look like the girl on the cover. You know that, right? I’m not— I’m not Princess Leia kind beautiful, you know?”

“Yeah,” Eddie shrugs, seemingly agreeing with you and smiling all over again. “You’re a you kind beautiful. That’s what makes you so damn sexy.”

He leans down over you with the intention to kiss you. 

Still pouting and inwardly aching, you pull back from him.

“Eddie…” you murmur, still gentle but obviously sadder.

He concedes with a small sigh. The couch cushions dip with his weight when he sits down beside you. He leaves the packages abandoned on the other side of him and gives you his full attention. 

“Look… You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to, alright? We can stay in for Halloween for all I care. I just… I think it’d be a lot of fun, you know?” the boy rambles with a seriousness that’s typically foreign to him. His palm smooths across your knee over the thick quilt. His lips quirk into a crooked grin. “And I think you’d look… very pretty as my Princess Leia.”

His chocolate eyes twinkle with an undeniable sincerity. It makes your chest feel so warm it burns.

“Yeah?” you mumble, not quite believing him but wanting him to hear him say it anyway.

“Totally,” he scoffs like it’s obvious. He presses a lingering peck to your lips, then melts when he tastes leftover sex upon them. 

A switch flips within him then. His belly twists, and his eyelids get all heavy. His smirk is weighed down by lust as he pulls back from you and shrugs. “I think I could show you better than I could tell you, actually…”

Across the living room, the door busts open. 

Sunlight explodes throughout the dim trailer, making the two of you squint. 

Steve enters first, knocking on the open door to announce his arrival. “Phone’s off the hook,” he observes, pointing to the telephone lying face up on the table beside the front door. 

Eddie had two fingers inside you, and the thing just wouldn’t stop ringing. He grumbled in annoyance when he had to part from you to hang it up.

Steve puts the thing back on the hook while Robin, Nancy, Jonathan, and Argyle walk in behind him.

Mortified, you watch with wide eyes as your uninvited friends file in. Your grip tightens around the blanket. You use one hand to make sure every inch of your naked body is covered with it.

Eddie doesn’t seem nearly as bothered by it as you are. Instead, he huffs in annoyance and spreads his arms along the back of the couch. They were the ones barging in, after all. If they had a problem with his pale, lanky figure and his thin, plaid boxers, then that was on them.

“Oh. Come in,” he hums, sarcasm dripping from his tongue. ���Make yourselves at home.”

Robin’s got a thousand-year stare in her eye and a blue, red, and purple mouth. “Can I use your bathroom?” she wavers, voice strained. Her fists are clenched beneath her baggy flannel. They tremble beside her baggier jeans.

“Uh, yeah. Knock yourself out.”

She’s already rushing down the hall before he can get the words out.

The two of you watch her leave and then turn to Steve. He’s an expert in all things Robin Buckley nowadays. He shrugs and tells you, “She had, like, four slurpees while we were waiting on you guys at The Hawk.”

You shift awkwardly like you’re getting scolded. Eddie only laughs.

As all the gang settles around the trailer — Jonathan on the recliner, Nancy on the arm of it, and Steve sitting on the adjacent table — Argyle is the only one without a place to sit. He idles beside the couch, smiling at you with rosy lips and rosier eyes.

“How are you doing today, amigo?” he wonders with a curt nod, as mellow as ever.

You smile up at the boy, not nearly as fazed by the bright style and long raven hair as you used to be. Actually, you’ve grown quite fond of his slurred jokes that don’t really have a punchline because halfway through, he realizes he’s forgotten it entirely.

“Good,” you respond, crossing your arms over the quilt you’ve got bunched at your chest. “You?”

“I’m peachy, brochacho,” he nods back at you. He grins, but the bright expression is weighed down by the weed. The skunky smell entwines with his musky cologne, creating a deep earthy scene that’s much more bearable than the weed alone.

“Not that I’m not thrilled you guys showed up—” Eddie starts with an inflection that would imply otherwise, wide eyes flitting around the room. “—But what the hell are you doing here?”

“You’d know if you answered the phone,” Steve retorts with a scrunched nose, flipping through a random car magazine. The Beemer on the front matches the sunshine yellow of his sweatshirt.

“Well, I was a little busy, Harrington—”

You nudge Eddie before he can finish the stupid joke. Everyone could already hear it anyhow — “I was a little busy, but you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” 

He shoots you an innocently confused look. You give him a half-hearted glare in return.

“You guys flaked on movie night, so we brought the movies to you,” Nancy singsongs with a sweet, pink smile.

Jonathan unrolls the folded-up paper bag between his feet. The flimsy cardboard crackles loudly as he rifles through it. He pulls out a number of unblanketed VHS tapes with handwritten stickers glued to the front of them. 

“Uh… We got Sleepaway Camp, obviously,” the Byers boy mutters in his usual Byers way. He waves the tape in his hand and sits it off to the side. He reaches into the bag and grabs two more. “Twilight Zone and, uh, Return of the Jedi.”

Eddie is as grateful as he is confused. Movie night wasn’t totally gone, and both of your movies had been seemingly carrier-pigeoned to his trailer, but neither should be out on VHS yet. “How…?” the boy trails off with pinched-together brows.

Argyle answers. “Let’s just say I know a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy…” he smirks, then swirls his features in puzzlement. It looks like he’s trying to do math in his head. “…Who knows a guy.”

“I can pop some popcorn if you guys wanna, you know, make yourselves decent,” Steve teases with a feigned maliciousness as he hops off the square table. The old thing squeaks under his weight.

Eddie’s retort doesn’t miss a beat. “Oh. Right. My bad, Stevie. It’s not like you totally barged in on us or anything.”

You shake your head at their bickering, though you’re still smiling quietly to yourself. Eddie shields you while you rise from the couch. You wear the heavy quilt like a dress as you shuffle down the hallway to his bedroom. The thing trails behind you as you go.

“Sorry about them, sweetheart,” Eddie apologizes as soon as the door clicks closed. 

He’d wanted to say something earlier, but kept his mouth shut instead of making it a bigger deal. He knew you were bound to be embarrassed — because you almost always tend to be, anyway. He didn’t want to draw attention to the situation, or least of all to you, and make it that much worse.

“’S okay,” you shrug and drop the blanket on the carpet. 

Eddie tries not to go all teenage boy at the sight of your naked body, but he nearly loses his mind when you bend over to pick up one of his t-shirts from the floor. 

“We did sorta flake on them,” you reason as you tug the cotton over your head. The baggy fabric falls over you like rain.

Eddie shakes his head, mostly at himself. He couldn’t love you more if he tried.

“Only you would blame yourself when those assholes walked in on us,” he laughs, walking the short distance to you and wrapping you in his arms from behind. He presses a sweet kiss to your neck. You smell like flowers, sex, and his cologne. 

“You’re too sweet for your own good, baby. No wonder those schmucks won’t leave us alone.”

Robin’s voice seemingly comes from within the walls — ‘cause the bathroom is only one room over, and the walls are especially thin. “Rude!” she grouses, voice muffled. “I mean, it’s true, but still.”

[dolcettamagica]

𐙚˙⋆.˚ 𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲

yandere!nanami x reader

tags: yandere – extreme possessive and obsessive behaviour, like extreme, cage, angst no comfort, twisted love notes: request by: @superslutny wc: 1.8k

Nanami sat in his dimly lit apartment, his eyes fixed on the clock ticking away on the wall. Each second felt like an eternity, his mind consumed by thoughts of you. You, his everything, the light that brightened his otherwise dull existence. You were his girlfriend, his confidante, his reason for waking up every morning. But lately, something gnawed at Nanami, something dark and relentless.

Jealousy had always been a shadow lurking in the corners of his mind, but recently it had grown into a raging storm, consuming his every thought. He tried to control it, tried to push it down deep inside, but it clawed its way back, stronger and more insistent than before.

You were the only good thing in Nanami's life, and he couldn't bear the thought of losing you. You were beautiful, kind, and fiercely independent. But to Nanami, you were also a prize to be protected at all costs, a possession that he couldn't bear to share with the world.

He would watch you closely, his eyes following your every move, his heart racing with fear at the mere thought of someone else stealing you away. He knew it was irrational, he knew he was being unfair to you, but he couldn't help it. The jealousy consumed him, twisted his thoughts into dark, irrational patterns.

He tried to control it, tried to be the loving boyfriend he knew you deserved, but his efforts were futile. He couldn't help but question your every move, interrogate you about your whereabouts, and demand constant reassurance of your love and fidelity.

You tried to understand, tried to be patient with Nanami, but the constant scrutiny and possessiveness began to wear you down. You felt suffocated, trapped in a relationship that was becoming more suffocating by the day.

One evening, after yet another explosive argument fueled by Nanami’s jealousy, you couldn't take it anymore. With tears in your eyes, you packed your bags and tried to walk out the door.

Nanami couldn’t let you leave.

As you packed your bags, Nanami's anxiety and possessiveness intensified. He couldn't fathom a life without you, couldn't imagine facing the world alone. With each item you placed in your suitcase, his desperation grew, a knot tightening in his chest.

"Please, my love," Nanami pleaded, his voice trembling with emotion. "Don't go. I need you. You're everything to me."

You paused, your eyes filled with a mixture of sympathy and frustration. You knew Nanami loved you deeply, but his jealousy was suffocating you. You longed for space, for freedom from his constant scrutiny and control.

"Kento," you said softly, placing a hand on his trembling shoulder. "I need some time to think. I'll stay tonight, but tomorrow I have to go."

Nanami nodded, his heart sinking with resignation. He knew he couldn't force you to stay, but the thought of you leaving tore him apart inside. He resolved to make the most of your remaining time together, to show you just how much you meant to him.

But as the night wore on, Nanami’s jealousy bubbled to the surface once again. He couldn't shake the feeling that you were slipping away from him, that you were already planning your escape. Every innocent glance at your phone, every moment of silence between you, fueled his paranoia. He can’t let you leave, he won’t let you.

Despite the darkness that now enveloped Nanami's mind, there were moments of light, memories that shone like beacons in the fog of his obsession.

He remembered the first time you met, your eyes locking across a crowded room, a spark igniting between you that would soon blossom into love. He remembered your laughter, the sound of your infectious giggles echoing through the air as you shared inside jokes and silly stories.

He remembered your late-night conversations, the deep, meaningful talks that lasted until the early hours of the morning. You bared your souls to each other, sharing hopes, fears, and dreams with a level of intimacy that Nanami had never known before.

He remembered your walks in the park, hand in hand, the world fading away as you lost yourselves in each other's presence. The warmth of the sun on your faces, the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze—it was in these moments that Nanami felt truly alive, truly loved.

And above all, he remembered the way you looked at him, your eyes filled with a love so pure and unconditional that it took his breath away. In your arms, he found solace from the demons that haunted him, a sense of peace that he had never known before.

Tears welled up in Nanami's eyes as he reached out to you, his fingers brushing against your sleeping form. "I'm sorry, my love," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I love you more than anything in this world. Please forgive me."

As you slept peacefully beside him, Nanami's mind churned with a plan born from his darkest impulses. With each breath you took, he felt the weight of his possessiveness pressing down on him, suffocating him with the fear of losing you.

Quietly, Nanami slipped out of bed, his movements deliberate and stealthy. He moved through the apartment like a shadow, his heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and dread. In the corner of the room, hidden from sight, stood the cage he had meticulously prepared for this moment.

With trembling hands, Nanami approached the cage and swung open the door, the metal hinges creaking softly in the stillness of the night. He returned to the bed where you lay, your form bathed in the soft glow of moonlight, and gently lifted your sleeping body into his arms.

With great care, Nanami carried you to the cage and laid you down inside, your limbs falling limply against the cold metal bars. He fastened the lock with shaking hands, the sound echoing through the room like a final, ominous chord.

The cage stood as a looming testament to Nanami's descent into madness, yet within its confines lay a paradoxical blend of memories and attempts at comfort. 

Constructed from sturdy steel bars, it was large enough for you to move around, to stretch your limbs and turn, yet small enough to serve its purpose—to confine you to Nanami's world, to keep you close at all costs. 

Despite its stark appearance, the cage was not devoid of warmth. Nanami had adorned its interior with small touches meant to evoke the memories you had shared together. A soft blanket, the one you had cuddled under on countless nights, draped over a corner. A stack of books you had read together rested nearby, their pages worn and dog-eared from hours of shared exploration. 

In one corner, Nanami had placed a small photo album, filled with snapshots of your happiest moments—smiling faces, stolen kisses, and adventures captured in frozen time. It was a reminder of the love you had once shared, a testament to the bond that had brought you together.

Despite his actions, Nanami had tried to make the cage as bearable as possible for you. He had stocked it with food and water, enough to sustain you until he could find a way to make things right. He had even left a note, a heartfelt apology penned in shaky handwriting, expressing his love and regret for what he had done.

But no amount of comfort could mask the reality of your captivity, the suffocating weight of Nanami's possessiveness bearing down on you with each passing moment. 

As you began to stir, Nanami stepped back, his heart pounding in his chest. He watched with a mixture of dread and fascination as you slowly woke, confusion clouding your eyes as you realized your predicament.

"What... what's going on?" your voice was barely a whisper, filled with equal parts fear and disbelief.

Nanami approached the cage, his eyes filled with desperation as he tried to explain himself. "I'm sorry, love," he pleaded, his voice cracking with emotion. "I couldn't bear the thought of losing you. I had to do something to keep you with me, to make sure you never leave."

Your eyes widened in horror as the truth of Nanami's actions sank in. You rattled the bars of the cage, your voice rising to a panicked scream as you begged him to let you out.

But Nanmi was lost to his own madness, consumed by his obsessive need to possess you. He watched you from the other side of the cage, his heart torn between love and despair as he realized the depth of his own depravity.

He paced back and forth in front of the cage, his emotions a tempest raging within him. His eyes bore into you, filled with a mixture of desperation and love, as he began to rant, the words pouring out of him like a torrential downpour.

"I love you, darling. God, I love you more than anything in this world," he began, his voice trembling with raw emotion. "I would do anything for you, anything to keep you safe, to protect you from the dangers of this world."

He paused, his chest heaving with the weight of his emotions, before continuing with increasing fervor. "I can't stand the thought of you out there, exposed and vulnerable, surrounded by people who don't understand you like I do. People who don't appreciate you, who don't see you for the incredible person that you are."

Nanami's voice rose to a crescendo as he spoke, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. "I just want to keep you close, my love. To shelter you from the storms that rage outside these walls, to shield you from the pain and heartache that the world can inflict. Can't you see that everything I've done, everything I've built, it's all for you? Because I love you. Because I need you."

Tears welled up in Nanami's eyes as he spoke, his voice cracking with emotion. "I know I've made mistakes, darling. I know I've hurt you, and I'm sorry. But please, please don't leave me. Don't abandon me to face this world alone. I couldn't bear it. I couldn't survive without you."

He fell silent then, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. He watched you through tear-blurred eyes, his heart laid bare before you, praying with every fiber of his being that you would understand, that you would forgive him, that you would stay.

“This is insane, Kento! This isn’t love!”

And as your cries echoed through the empty apartment, Nanami knew that he had crossed a line from which there could be no return. In locking you away, he had lost not only your love, but his own soul as well.

"I can’t cage my jealousy so I’ll have to just cage you."

[celestialprincesse]

i love you and your writing so fuckin much babes🥹💗😭

would you write about simon with a partner whose libido has decreased due to taking antidepressants

i think he takes them too so he might have the same issue

it's ok if you don't wanna ik it's a bit weird sorry to bother you

It's not at all weird! I take antidepressants and the way it fucked with my sex drive was such a confusing side effect🫠

Having long since devolved into a mess of tangled limbs and sloppy kisses, a calloused hand creeping under the fabric of your shirt as you and Simon make out on the couch, you know the trajectory that tonight seems to follow. Should follow. But, like a moored boat, no matter how much you want to drift off into the desire faintly tugging at the back of your mind like a calling tide, you can't.

It's not that you feel uncomfortable with him, not at all. You just...don't feel like it. But it'll be fine. It just takes a while to get going. You just need a minute.

"Hey."

Fuck. His hands have stopped roving, moved back from their hazardous purchase on the clasp of your bra to settle on your lower back with soothing weight and warmth.

You give a noncommittal hum, trying to melt back into Simon's body, to give back in to it, to unmoor the boat and drift off into the blissful sway of the waves.

"Look at me." His hand on your chin stops you in your tracks, forcing you to meet his stern, worried eyes. "We don't have to - to fuck or anything, yeah?"

The way he sees through you, and your feeble attempts at trying to work yourself up, it's embarrassing. Why can't you just give in to it? Most people would jump up and down to have sex with a man like Simon, and yet here you are having to think about the shitty smutty books you used to read or sex scenes in trashy corset-ripper romance shows just to get out of your own head.

"I want to." You lie, feebly, at that. Judging by the furrow of his brows, almost offended, he can see that you're lying too.

"No, you don't." He huffs, keeping your cheeks smushed between his fingers to prevent you from interrupting, leaving your brows furrowed like a petulant child. "I get it, you know." Simon continues, his free hand smoothing back the hair he'd mussed up in your haphazard make out session. "When I'd just started out in the SAS, I got put on fluoxetine. Used to get taken the piss out of for not getting it up."

You can't help the way your brows furrow sympathetically at the thought of your Simon being made fun of for something so juvenile and silly.

"I get it, m' not fussed about it, either. If sitting here sucking each other's faces off is all you feel up to doing, that's more than fine by me."

[cosmal]

ooooh poly!marauders who are really in tune with their s/o's emotions, even when she tries to hide them? like maybe they're out for a meal or at a party and she gets overwhelmed and they just realise straight away and bring her out of the setting? i love them soooo much

in the car

summary the boys take you home when you get overwhelmed at a party.

content poly!marauders x fem!reader

note omg first poly!m blurb. sorry it kinda sucks :[

You sit on a retaining wall in Marlene's backyard and try to focus on her pretty flowers instead of feeling so anxious. You haven't spoken to anyone in twenty minutes, not even the boys, and you've really tried your best not to put such a damper on the night.

They're having a lot of fun, you know they've had a tiring week and everyone hasn't been together in a long time so you won't ruin anything for them.

You pick at your nails and chew on the ice in your drink to keep your mind distracted. You thought you could handle it tonight, you hoped you wouldn't get as overwhelmed as you were expecting. You'd felt anxious before you even left, you thought seeing your friends might've helped.

You're too busy staring a hole through your glass to notice James sitting next to you. You startle when he speaks and bite your lip at your error.

"Hey, sweetheart," he says softly and ignores your jump. You feel a little pathetic.

"James," you sigh. You can't look him in the eye.

"Ready to go?" he clasps and hand to your shoulder and does that stupid, toothy grin he knows you love.

"What? We just got here." It feels like it's been hours. It's been one at most.

"Yeah, I know." He stands back up and hovers over you. It's almost irritating how pretty he looks. He doesn't make any of this any easier. You feel awful for ruining their night. "You look so sad, honey. We thought we'd go home."

"I can Uber if you want." You regret it before you even say it.

"What? No, don't be so silly." Yeah. Expected.

"I don't wanna leave just cause of me. I'm fine, don't worry."

James doesn't let you mope any longer. "No, c'mon, up."

"James..."

"It's okay," he takes your hand to encourage you, smiling, "really. I wanna leave anyway." Then much quieter, "Frank's tryna get me drunk."

You let him lift you up and fall into his side where you feel you belong. You feel half-relieved already, despite feeling selfish. "Where're the others?"

"Sirius went to get the car,'' he grabs your hand and leads you through the side gate. "I think Remus went with him."

You're not sure why you feel so blindsided by this all. Most of the time they're so intuned with you, they know when you're overwhelmed or just having a bad time. You're the same with them. You rub Remus's shoulders before without him telling you they're sore, you call James when you know he's having a bad day after he messages you, and you hug Sirius before he tells you he wants a cry.

You step out onto the pavement and find Sirius pulled up with Remus, waiting for you and James. You feel bad for ditching but not as much as so when they look so happy to see you. "What if I'd convinced you to stay? They would've been out here all night, probably," you ask before you get to the car.

"Wouldn't have worked." He opens your door for you.

You slide along the back seat for James to sit next to you and are welcomed by a lovely warmth. James gets in too and you think he wants to click you in as well but decides against it.

"You okay, lovely?" Remus asks from the passenger seat, he twists around to look you over and you feel bare.

"I'm okay," you say softly. "Hasn't Sirius been drinking?"

Sirius snorts from behind the wheel. "I've had two, don't worry, lovely."

You know you're deflecting, you suspect as soon as Sirius also asks if you're okay, you might cry. Your throat feels thick with an upset that feels worse now in a contained space. This is half the reason you wanted to leave on your own. Not that being surrounded by your boys when you're upset is bad, just might've been easier to steel yourself.

You reach a hand down on the seat between you and James and scrunch it tight. He unclicks himself and sides over to you. He gets an arm around your shoulder and encourages you into his side, as much as your seatbelt will allow.

"You okay?" Sirius dangerously whips his head back to look at you, pouting.

The first tear dribbles down your cheek.

You hide your face in James's firm shoulder and shake your head. He tuts and cages your head in with a big hand. Your tears are hot and slow, marring James's pretty shirt. You hope you don't turn messy with it. He looks good.

James murmurs something like, "Hurry up, Sirius." The car roars.

You feel the car slow at a red light and peel yourself away from James's chest. Face wet and hot, your hair stuck to your cheeks. "Shit, I'm sorry," you curse and wipe your face with a rough hand. James's arm stays around your shoulder.

"Hey, it's okay, yeah?" Remus uses his long arm to grab your knee. He squeezes firmly and it feels nice. You hope you're close to home, you want to hug Sirius as well. He looks similarly worked up.

"I'm sorry I made us leave," you sniffle.

"You didn't make us do anything," James says, voice as firm as he can manage. "We don't mind. It's just...you gotta tell us if you're not feeling good, okay? We might be able to prevent these pretty eyes from crying." He uses the side of his finger to wipe under your watery eyes, brushing over your clumped eyelashes. You blink slowly.

"I didn't want to ruin-"

"You didn't ruin anything," Sirius interrupts, "We just want to make sure you're okay."

He steals another look at you. You nod gently. "Yeah."

"Remus was complaining to me, anyways," James says, smug. "Said I looked so good that he wanted to take me home."

You start to laugh, much to the boy's pleasure. "Really?"

"Yeah," James nods, "Said he wanted to - and I quote - jump my bones."

Remus looks incensed. You're just happy the teasing isn't on your behalf for once. "Whatever, James."

"You do look pretty, James," you say, still sidled up to him, "I don't blame him."

He squeezes you hard. and laughs, pleased you're feeling better. "I'm sure Remus'll be telling me all night how good this shirt looks on me."

"It does!"

"Okay, James's head might explode," Sirius says. He'd looked just as in love all night, you'd seen it.

"Woah!"

You sit back and watch your boys fight over stupid things. You think you could do it for the rest of your life if they allowed it. You're sure they'd make a fool of themselves over and over if it made you happy.

Sirius catches you staring. "Feeling a little better?"

You nod, pleased, but embarrassed to be caught. "Yeah."

"Good." You must be almost home.

"Hey, Sirius?" you say softly.

"Yeah, lovely?" He might crash if he keeps turning to look at you like that.

"Can we stop at McDonald's?" you ask softly, even softer eyes like he'd ever say no.

"Yeah, sounds good. Remus needs a happy meal."

-

[darknight3904]

See You in the Morning, Coryo

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪:ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜꜱ' ᴀʀɢᴜᴍᴇɴᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴄʜᴇꜱ ᴀ ᴄʟɪᴍᴀx ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇ ᴍᴀᴋᴇꜱ ᴀ ᴍᴏᴠᴇ.

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ / ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ / ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ / ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ᴅᴀʀᴋᴇʀ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ꜰᴇᴡ ᴘᴀʀᴛꜱ. ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ ᴄʜᴀɪɴꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴜᴘ. ɴᴏᴛ ɪɴ ᴀ ꜱᴇxʏ ᴡᴀʏ, ꜱᴀᴅʟʏ.

The first time you met him you were 12. It was only your fourth day at the Capitol's Academy and you wished you could go home and bury yourself in your bed and never return. You had yet to meet anyone interested in being friends with you, the homeschooled freak who started oh so late compared to her peers. Sure, you had met Arachne and Festus at big lavish parties your parents threw but that didn't mean they liked you.

And then, on your fourth day of school, everything changes. Big blue eyes are fixated on the overly large sandwich and fruit bowl that had been in your lunch bag. A soft gurgle of a hungry stomach fills your ears and you turn to see a boy with the prettiest blonde curls atop his head staring at you.

"Do you want a piece? Our maid always packs too much and I can never finish it. You can have some if you want." You ask, picking up a strawberry and holding it out to him.

He hesitates for a moment but eventually reaches out and takes a small bite.

"Don't you have a lunch today?" You ask

"I already ate it." He said

Something inside you said he was lying and so you offered the rest of the fruit to him. Your sandwich would be enough for today, after all, no one should go hungry if another had something else to give.

You chat with the boy with blue eyes and pretty blonde curls. His name is Coriolanus Snow and he lives with his Grandma'am and his cousin. You smile at him as he eats the fruit, savoring the taste of the grapes that were mixed in. As you sit beside your new friend, you smile to yourself and hope he'll be your friend tomorrow too.

"You're not leaving. I won't let you."

Coriolanus knows how bad it sounds. He knows you're angry when you go to step around him and he blocks your path. Your engagement ring feels like a brick as it sits in his shirt pocket.

"Coryo. Move. I'm going home." You say, determined to get away from him.

Where do you think you're running off to? You have no place in society besides your spot next to him.

"You can't. You have to stay here. With me." He insists, hoping his softer tone will change your silly little mind.

"Please, Coriolanus. Just let me go home for tonight. I'll come back tomorrow. I promise." You whisper.

He hates that. Coriolanus. Why are you calling him that? He's always been Coryo to you why are you changing it now? The way his full name lingers in the air makes his blood boil.

Rage is something that's hard to control. Coriolanus has seen it first hand when the Districts rebelled against the Capitol all those years ago. He saw it Dr. Gaul when Lucy Gray survived her snakes thanks to him. He sees it now, in you as you give him a hard shove to his shoulders and begin moving toward the door.

Rage. That's why he does it. It's something he and so many others can't control. Rage. What a funny concept it is, how it causes someone to think so irrationally.

Truly though, you are to blame for it all. If only you had just talked to him rationally. taking off your ring and throwing a fit, demanding to go home like you're some petulant child who needs a nap.

Perhaps this will change your attitude, after all, you couldn't just run off, he needed you.

There's an ache in the back of your skull when you finally open your eyes. A soft blanket is covering you and the soft scent of apples and cinnamon is wafting through the air.

"This is your favorite, right?"

A voice that used to bring a smile to your face now sends a jolt of fear down your spine as you quickly sit up.

Coriolanus is sitting in a plush-looking chair, with your favorite candle burning on a little side table next to him.

What the hell had he done to you?

"You sat up too quickly. There's some painkillers on the nightstand if you want them." He says

His voice is so calm as you gradually take in your new surroundings.

"Where am I?" You croak, your voice sounds terrible.

"You're still in our mansion. This is the basement. Part of it anyway. Over the past two weeks, I got them to transform a section of it into a room perfect for you." He says, closing the book in his lap.

Weeks? How long had it been since that dinner when you tried to leave? What the hell had even happened? The last thing you clearly remember was shoving Coriolanus and beginning to walk away. Had he hit you with something? But then how did he keep you down for two weeks so he could bring you here?

"You're wondering what happened. I'm not proud of it but I hit you with a serving tray before you could leave."

Your mind briefly conjures up the silver trays that the food you often enjoyed was served on.

"I had a doctor give you injections to keep you asleep until this room was ready. The headache you feel is the hangover from the drugs, not a concussion. I made sure he gave you an exam and he's cleared you from any injuries."

Corionus' explanation is making your brain ache. What the fuck was happening? Why are you in a basement bedroom instead of your normal one? When was he going to let you out? Would he ever let you out?

Your stomach gurgles and you just barely make it to the small garbage can that's sitting on the ground next to the bed.

"Ah, the doctor said vomiting was another side effect. I'm sure it will pass soon." Coriolanus says, unbothered as you heave up whatever gunk he had gotten the doctor to pump into your stomach.

You wipe your face with the back of your hand, wishing for something to take away the burning at the back of your throat.

"Alright. Since you're awake now, I'll be leaving. Lots of meetings today and the arena is nearly ready I just have to approve a few more things." Coriolanus says, standing up and fixing his tie as he begins to walk away.

"Wait." You groan, trying to reach out to him

"I'll be back for dinner. I know how much you love to listen to me talk about my day."

Two months later

There's been a certain warmness about you recently. Perhaps it's the flowers he brought you your maybe the fact that he takes the heavy chain off your ankle when he visits you. He decides it's the latter as he watches thumb through the new books he handed you.

"Do you like them?" He asks

"Yes." You smile as you gently place them on your shelf.

You're so effortlessly pretty, even here, locked away from the sunlight and every inch of society. Here, you're all his, every bit of you hinges on him opening the heavy metal door that keeps you here. It's been so long since you had even tried to argue or fight back against him. Sure, the beginning had been rough, you had thrown things at him and had at one point threatened him with a butter knife but now you we so docile. Almost like he had domesticated a wild animal and now it was trained perfectly.

"Could you bring the little cakes tonight?" You ask

"The ones with the powdered sugar on top?"

You nod as you sit on your bed, stretching out your right ankle which is marked with a heavy bruise from the chain he had to put on you. It wasn't what he wanted but after you tried attacking him when he entered the room on the second day of your enclosure, he knew it was a necessity.

"I'll have the chef make extra. We can eat as many as you like and get fat." He teases

You smile at him but he can see something else behind your eyes.

Sadness.

You remind him of a bird with clipped wings. Freedom so effortlessly in reach but unable to fly to reach it.

If only he could trust you enough to let you back into the main floors of the mansion.

Time passes slowly whenever Coriolanus is gone and it gives you time to think. You were going mad, chained up all day, waiting for him to bring you your meals and sit with you at night. So in an effort to chase your impending insanity away, you thought. You thought about your childhood and if things would be different had you never given Coriolanus that stupid bowl of fruit. Perhaps you'd be head of your father's company now, or maybe you'd be married to some elite capitol man.

Your mind was always racing, overanalyzing every little thing and every little mistake you had ever made.

Perhaps you should've never confronted him about those pictures. If you had just slipped out of the mansion one day what would had happened? Maybe he would've caught you or perhaps you would've made it back to your parents, back to your old life and self.

How naive you had been at that gala years ago, thinking that you didn't need anything but Coriolanus. What a stupid girl you had grown up to be.

The past few weeks had been rough. You had been sucking up to Coriolanus to be let back into the main part of the mansion. You claimed to just want to feel sunlight again. Of course, you also planned on running the moment you had an opening but he didn't need to know that half.

Coriolanus was simply insane, it was a conclusion you had come to after all these long days. Maybe he had always been like this but you were just too blind to see it. Maybe his nice gestures and honey-coated words had disguised the monster that lurked behind those eyes. All you knew was that he was the worst man in all of Panem and here you sat, suffering all because you were his favorite.

"My heart burns for you."

What a load of bullshit.

He stays true to his word and arrives that night for dinner, cakes in hand. Silenced Avoxes serve you your food and Coriolanus sits across from you at the table that had mysteriously appeared one night when you were asleep. The chain on your ankle made an unpleasant sound as you shifted in your seat.

"The salmon is nice, isn't it?" Coriolanus asks as he eats

"Yes, it's wonderful. Very buttery." You say, struggling to find exactly what was good about it.

You didn't want salmon, you didn't really want anything anymore, perhaps you were finally giving into whatever game he was playing by keeping you here.

"I've decided to replace the curtains throughout the mansion. I've found the blue to be a bit ugly. Tomorrow there will be beautiful maroon ones hung." He informs you

You had hand-picked the blue ones, years ago.

"I'm sure they will be beautiful." You say looking down at your lap.

Coriolanus stops chewing and sets his silverware down.

"If you're going to mock me, you shouldn't even open your mouth. You know I hate it when you're full of attitude so why do you still try?" He says

It's a warning. You know it, he knows it.

"I know. I was being serious." You say, "I hope I get to see the maroon curtains soon, Coriolanus."

"Coryo." He corrects, placing a bite of food in his mouth

"Coryo." You parrot.

He smiles, pleased with you.

"You will, soon."

Dinner passes slowly as you finish your salmon to the tune of Coriolanus' talking. Something about the latest games being a wonderful success and that the big finale would be either tomorrow or the next. He suggests you watch on the little TV that sits in the corner, untouched, it was something that was added a week ago, specifically so you could watch the games. You promise to watch and he smiles at you again.

Coriolanus bids you goodnight after dessert. He double-checks your chain before straightening up and gently kissing your forehead.

"Goodnight, darling. I'll see you in the morning."

"See you in the morning, Coryo."

The past week had been going nearly perfectly for Coriolanus. Not only had the games been perfect, but you had been impressing him. Sure, a few days ago at dinner you had called him Coriolanus and he nearly lost his cool after he thought you insulted the curtains but that was behind him now.

He had finally concluded that he'd release you from the basement. He missed your presence in the mansion and at the normal dinner table. He wasn't quite sure about letting you have full roam yet, perhaps he'd sedate you during the days and let you walk around at night, when he could personally keep an eye on you before bedtime. The idea of one of the Axoxes watching you didn't sit right, after all, if you ran what would they do? They couldn't even shout for help to bring you back inside.

He was positively giddy as he walked down the many flights of steps that led to where you were. He wanted to show you the greenhouse first. Sure, you had seen it before but the way the roses were blooming recently was simply too good to pass up. He had planted new ones recently too, blushing pink ones that reminded him of you and your warmness to him.

The metal door was cool against his palm as he opened it to reveal your darkened room. The door let out a heavy groan as it shut behind him.

It wasn't uncommon for you to be sleeping when he entered, he often visited during the night and would watch you, as if you were going to disappear. However, this time the darkness confused him. It was the middle of the day, surely you weren't still asleep?

The soft clink of that ridiculous chain filled his ears as he stepped towards the lamp that sat on your shelf.

"Are you hiding from me, darling?" He asked into the darkness, ready to scoop you up and hold you close.

Silence answered his question as his eyes tried to focus on anything.

The softest rustle of fabric fills his ears as he quickly turns to his right. The slightest shimmer of color reaches his eyes, illuminated by what little light wormed its way under the door. It's you, in that sweater you often wore.

"I see you." He says reaching out to what he thinks might be your arm. "What a pretty shade of blue that is. I'll have a designer make a dress in that color for you."

He swears he hears you whisper his name but perhaps it was just in his head as he steps forward.

Coriolanus feels the smile that was on his face drop into his stomach when he hears it again, the rustle of fabric. You were behind him now.

His hands twitch one, then twice, and before he can react, you're there, in front of him again, anger polluting your pretty face.

His lips form your name but it never leaves his mouth. Instead, the cool metal of that chain he had intended on removing was cutting his vocal cords off.

The chain he hated putting on you, the chain you had desperately tried to claw off many times as he watched through a grainy video feed was rapidly wrapping its way around his neck, ready to destroy him.

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[luveline]

Hi love, i would love to see more of spencer x stripper!reader. Hope u are doing good <3

hi thank u, u too! ♡ fem

You press the heel of your palm to the shower tiles, head hanging and hair soaked to the scalp. Rivulets of hot water and soap suds slick their way down your front. 

“You okay?” 

Spencer's voice through the door, a better warmth than any luxurious shower. “Sorry, I'm getting out!” 

“No! No, stay in there if you want, I'm just wondering.” 

You force yourself out of the shower and into a towel. “I'm getting out.” 

“I have some clothes for you,” he says, “I can leave them by the door.” 

You wrap the towel tightly around your chest and step to the door. Spencer's startled face is on the other side, smiling nervously, a bundle of clothes held to his chest. 

“They're my friends. My coworker. Penelope? I asked her first and she said she doesn't mind at all. They might not fit, but…” 

“Thank you. You and Penelope.” You hold out one hand. Spencer passes you the clothes through the cracks of the door and you shut it, maybe unnecessarily. 

Spencer's seen you in various states of undress, but it isn't privacy that's worrying you tonight. You can't help looking over your shoulder, wondering if someone's watching you for a split second of madness. 

You pull on your borrowed pyjamas. A little Japanese cat winks up at you from the pants, the shirt a baseball tee with pink sleeves and a white body. Cute, you think. Penelope must be fun. 

Spencer's in the kitchen making two mugs of tea when you emerge. It's the herbal flavour you favour, steam billowing from the rims like clouds in the cold air. Your long walk in the rain is nearly forgotten by your skin if not your pittering pulse. 

“You okay?” 

“I'm fine.” 

“You sure?” He doesn't give you time to answer, carefully placing the two mugs on the coffee table, before tapping a gentle hand to your shoulder. “You wanna sit down?” 

“I'm really fine, handsome, it's … it's not the first time someone's followed me home.” You smile falsely. 

“That's not okay.” 

“I know.” You point at your cup of tea. “Can I?” 

“Of course you can,” he says, sitting beside you on the couch, leaving a more than chivalrous gap between you.

It's not a gap you want nor need, and after a few sips you've warmed enough to sidle closer to him, in touching distance, and then touching. Thigh to thigh, you watch the tops of his cheeks turn a pretty, blurry pink. “I was scared,” —your knuckles touch briefly to his knee— “but nothing happened. So don't worry about me, Dr. Reid, please.” You layer your voice with a sweetness that comes with seduction, a playfulness to mete his sudden regression into timidity. 

“I worry about you all the time.” He smiles, at least, so it isn't a burden. 

“I worry about you, too.” 

“I know you can take care of yourself, I just can't help thinking about the statistics. I know exactly how likely it is that something bad could happen to you, and it's not that you should worry, I don't want you to be scared, but– it's like, it plays on repeat in my head. It's– I'm not trying to–” 

“Hey, handsome,” you murmur, giving his leg a shy squeeze. “I know. It's dangerous and it's unlikely at the same time. And it feels silly talking about it.” 

“But silly not to,” he adds. 

“Yeah. I know, Spencer, I swear.” 

“I know you know,” he murmurs through a smile. 

“I know you know I know,” you joke back, smiling back sunnily. It doesn't take much of him to cheer you up. Ever since the day you met, he's been like a balm for your rampant aching, a brown-eyed, pretty-handed sweetheart. Whether it's sharing a seat on the train, or meeting up for dinner at the Indian restaurant behind his apartment, or just calling each other on the phone, he knows what to say to fix things. You forget your life, and you get to be with him instead. 

Spencer puts his mug of tea down to hug you. You'd known he was going to. It always happens like this, the two of you together, drinking tea and showing each other just the smallest fraction of each other's hearts. He presses his nose to your cheek as his hands run down the length of your back, and all you can think about is how he knows nearly everything about you and he holds you voluntarily.  

“Love you, Spence,” you mumble into his shoulder. 

“I love you too. I'm here for you, okay? I don't care how scared I am, I love being your friend.” 

You try not to sigh. Friend isn't necessarily what you want to be, but he'd let you in when you buzzed without asking why you were dropping by, and he'd held your gaze as you explained the man who'd been following you, your dead phone, your superglued shoes fallen apart in the typhoon. Spencer's everything a person could ever need. Dependable, vulnerable, sweet, kind, patient. He's pretty in every facet of the word. 

“Is it really that scary?” 

“Thinking about guys following you home?” he asks, rubbing your back gently. “It's terrifying. Weren't you terrified?” 

You blink back the sudden heat of emotion behind your eyes. “Um,” you say, higher than you mean, “uh, it wasn't–” You shrug, but your hands feel shaky and strange. 

Spencer's voice softens, “Hey, it's okay. I'm sorry.” 

You try not to think about what might've happened. When you realised there was someone following you, you didn't think, oh, he'll hurt me, you thought, I need to be faster. I need to get somewhere they can't. 

You needed safety and Spencer was the first, safest place. 

“I'm sorry for coming here.” 

Spencer pushed you away from him without malice, his hands on your arms. Alarm rings his eyes, eyebrows rising, “What? Why would you say that?” 

Because you didn't sign up for this. Because I'm me, and you're you, and you didn't have a choice, you were too good to let me be without you. 

Because, if you think about it, Spencer is more than safety to you. 

He doesn't baulk at your silence. “Hey,” he murmurs, thumb rubbing into the soft skin inside your elbow sweetly, “you like it here, don't you?” You nod. “Then– then who cares why you're here?” 

Spencer pulls you into his arms again. “You'll feel better in the morning… I'm gonna get you a new phone.” 

“What? Why?” 

“Cos that one's always dead. You need to be able to call me when you need me.” 

You smile into his shoulder. “You're not buying me a phone.” 

“Watch me.” 

You don't cry in his arms, but it's a weirdly close call. 

[eternalsa2z]

Who's The Bimbo?

"Oh dear dear dear. You thought I was a bimbo? Just because I was wearing pink? Since I was smiling with you?"

"I think you must be the bimbo if you didn't know the signs. A skintight latex outfit? A tight, commanding bun? The fact that I told you I like to tie up silly little dolls? I wasn't smiling with you...I was laughing at you."

"You still don't get it, do you? You're quite the airhead. Even after I get changed into my preferred attire. Dressed to kill. Blood red dress without any hint of pink. You still don't realize what's happening?"

"I didn't you invite you back to my place 'to have a girly sleepover'. The only 'frisky bimbo fun' we'll be having is if I feel like fetching my 10" strap-on from my dungeon. No, tonight, we're going to be making it VERY clear which of us is a bimbo."

"That's right my pretty little ditz. I'm not a bimbo - I'm a bimbo domme. So wiggle you're pretty little ass into these stirrups."

"Once I lock you in, I'm going to pump you full of silicone and collagen until you're ready to pop. I'm going to break you're mind with so many submissive bimbo hypnos that you will be drooling with a blank look for days. I'm going to make you plastic and pliant and the perfect doll worthy of serving me. What do you think about that?"

"Hmmm...so you knew all along? You were acting dumb this whole time so I'd do this to you? Clever girl...but not for long. You won't need to act to be dumb when I'm done with you."

[sincerelyneo]

mark doesn't know | n.jm

“but she’s under me and i’m not stopping”

💿now playing: scotty doesn’t know by lustra

❯ summary: You don’t even remember how it started, but Jaemin does. He’s wanted to get his hands on you the minute he met you — and he’d be damned if he let something as silly as his friend get in the way of the thing he really wants. So alas, you’ve been fucking your boyfriend’s friend for the last two months.

❯ pairings: jaemin x fem!reader (brief mark x reader)

❯ genre: boyfriend’s friend! jaemin, smut, light angst, college!au.

❯ words: 3.1k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, smut, cheating (boo), unprotected sex (don’t do this!), dirty talk, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, light chocking, hair pulling, begging, reader uses she/her pronouns, reader cheats on mark with jaemin.

You don’t even remember the first time it happened; or more so, how it happened. 

"J-Jaem we really shouldn't be doing this,” you huff out as your boyfriend’s good friend sucks on the skin against your neck, right below your ear. 

His breath is hot, and his touch feels melting. 

"You say that every time, and yet, look where you are. Back with me again.”

Your next words are cut off by the feeling of Jaemin’s lips pressing against yours. You want to give in, but something's on your mind this time — guilt. 

Pushing him back, you try to move from the wall, but he keeps you there. "We can't, not again. Mark’s on his way-"

He covers your mouth with his hand. He fucking hates when you bring him up. He fucking hates that his friend is the one that gets to have you on his arm. And he certainly fucking hates the fact that he had been the one to introduce the two of you in the first place. 

You were Jaemin’s lab partner before you even knew of Mark’s name. One night when you were over at Jaemin’s house for an assignment, Mark just so happened to turn up. If Jaemin had it his own way, he would have never even planned to introduce you to his older friend — but he was the one who told you to answer the door that night. 

And God did he fucking regret it. 

The memory of you answering the door with an immediate blush and flutter of your eyelashes at Mark’s presence played on his mind every time he saw the two of you together. 

You never looked at him like that — well at least not back then anyway. 

In Jaemin’s mind, he had made it very clear that he had a thing for you. He’d made it obvious, hadn’t he? 

Well, that’s what he thought. So, when news hit that you were fucking the older boy and going on dates with him; it was safe to say that Jaemin was beyond pissed. 

And when you were the one to kiss Jaemin one late night of studying — he seized the opportunity because he’d be damned before he lost his shot with you again. And thus, the two of you fucked every Thursday night’s study session. 

"Don't. Don't say his name,” he growls, low and nasally enough to have your stomach fluttering. “Now, nod your head if you're gonna stop worrying and listen to me.” 

You nod your head almost instantly with wide eyes. You couldn’t help the way your pussy grows even more slick, threatening to pool in your underwear, at his dominant demands.

"Good girl,” he says when you obey him, finally removing his hand from your mouth.

He sinks to his knees in front of you, pushing the few dishevelled stands of his hair out of his face to look up at you.

“I’m gonna give you something else to think about." He spreads your legs apart, snaking his hand delicately around your thighs to reach under your dress and tease the waistline of your panties. 

You wordlessly look down at him. And although you're not saying no it’s not enough for him.

"Tell me gorgeous, can I have you for tonight, again?" His voice seems deeper and his tone thicker, eyes searching yours for confirmation.

You close your eyes as he starts to drag the lace down your thighs, "I need words, Y/N. Can I have a taste?" 

"Yes." You sigh out.

"Yes, who?"

"Yes Jaemin.” 

He has you lift up your feet, one at a time, so that he can remove your panties completley. Your eyes shoot open just in time to see him stuff them in his back pocket. Your body starts to throb at the sight — the sight of him being so smitten for you. 

He grabs one of your legs, hoisting it up so that it's over his shoulder, exposing your bare core to him. Jaemin wasn’t a man of withstanding, so he wastes no time working his tongue the only way he knows best — the way you like it.

He starts by licking a long stripe up your wet cunt, groaning at the taste. The sound sends ripples against your clit, making your body jolt forward further on his tongue. 

"Can't believe you wanted to deny me of this,” he mumbles, shaking his head.

He suctions his mouth on your clit, making your breath hitch in your throat. You're biting down on your lip, hard enough to draw blood, as he starts sucking and pulling on the bud. You're certain your legs would have given out immediately had he not offered his shoulder as support.

"Sorry, m'sorry.", you moan, hands coming to grip his hair but he stops you. 

"I didn't say you could touch me yet,” he smirks up at you. 

He continues licking your clit until he reaches his hand down to your cunt to join his tongue. He watches your eyes shut in pleasure; the way your hands are clenching into fists, resisting the urge to touch him, wanting to try your best to follow his orders.

The pads of his fingers go to your swollen nerves, starting to apply pressure with slow torturous circles and your head slumps back against the wall, mouth hung open as a deep moan floats out of you. He lets two of his fingers dip down to your hole, teasing you a bit before sinking them in with no resistance. 

You know you’re not going to last, and you’re too out of your mind to even feel slightly embarrassed about it. You could get down on both knees right now and praise god for those fingers of his.

"I've missed how you feel against my fingers baby, couldn't forget it, soaking wet for me just like last time,” he says, looking up at you with thick lashes. 

It has your skin tingling, and your heart thumping against your chest; so hard that it's rippling down to the throb between your legs that only worsens as he continues pushing. 

"Can feel you clenching on my fingers,” he further teases, voice like gravel as he continues to watch you in amazement. "But I bet you wish it wasn't just my fingers, hm?" 

You bite your lip to stop a moan, but then Jaemin stops the movement of his fingers, pulling a whine from you. 

"Answer me baby. You want my cock in this tight little cunt, don't you?" 

You can practically feel him smile when he nuzzles his face into your thigh, watching you struggle to respond. 

"Jaemin please just-", you choke on your words when he begins to finger you again. 

"Just what? Use your words, Y/N."

"Want you to fuck me, please, stop teasing me,” you whine frustratedly. 

"Y'know I just love to hear you beg. Gonna fuck you, promise, but I want you to cum on my fingers first,” his fingers begin to pick up pace, curling to hit the spongy spot inside to which you cry out. 

Your teeth clamp down on your lip again as you circle your hips against his hand mindlessly, earning hiss after hiss from him. 

"Yeah? Gonna make a mess of my fingers? Be my good girl?" 

You can only moan in response, your mouth dropping open with small pants coming out. You start clinging to his shoulders, trying to stay upright. The sensation of your muscles contracting, with each thrust of his fingers and the heel of his palm rubbing against your aching spot, has your legs trembling.

"So close, Jaem, I’m so close. Let me cum." 

Jaemin looks up, nodding against you in a silent confirmation that you can — and you swear you see stars. You can feel your walls deep inside cracking as he starts sending shockwaves through your body. Jaemin even has to hold you up as your leg almost collapses and your hold on his shoulder tightens.

He continues to soothe and flick over your clit even after you come down from your high, and you're too weak to push him away.

"Jaem- baby I'm sensitive,” you tell him and he finally draws back, grinning up at you with a sly smile. 

He sets your leg down, getting up from his knees to stand right in front of you, his hands cradling your face as he kisses you. 

It’s sloppy and harsh, like he needs this or he’ll die, like he doesn’t want you escaping him, ever. You can taste yourself on his tongue and you groan into the kiss, your hands fisting the bottom of his shirt.

"More- I need more,” you mumble against his lips before kissing him again. 

Jaemin brings his hands from your face, to the back of your neck, using all the power he has to —somewhat— forcefully pull you away from him. 

"You know how this works. You gotta tell me more than that," his voice is just above a whisper, a sadistic smirk on his face as he watches your eyes struggle to leave his lips.

"What do you want more of, hm? More of my mouth?" You shake your head no, and Jaemin pretends to sigh. He tightens his grip on your neck, making you look him in the eye. "If you can't use your words, I can't help you." 

Jaemin knows exactly what you want and how you want it. But he can’t help but love seeing you get all needy and frustrated. It’s his own personal reminder of how much you need him — or better yet — how much Mark isn’t satisfying you. Knowing he gives you something Mark can’t, never fails to make his cock ache. 

"I want you to fuck me,” you finally say, voice barely audible. 

"I couldn't hear you. Repeat that for me?” He taunts and it makes you want to stomp your foot in frustration. 

"Stop teasing me, please. I need you to fuck me.” 

Jaemin grins at this, wasting no time in releasing your neck so that he can pick you up and carry you to your bed — Mark’s bed.

You let out a small squeal, swatting at him to put you down. You hated the way he was always picking you up, but for him, having you wrap around his waist was his way of being as close as possible to you. He tosses you down on the bed, making you look up at him with a glare.

"Be careful dumbass." 

He raises an eyebrow, lips quirking up into that stupid smirk once again. "You've got quite the mouth all of a sudden."

Jaemin kneels down on the bed in front of you, parting your legs so that he can be in between them. 

"Just a few minutes ago it was ‘oh Jaem I’m gonna cum, don't stop please,” he mocks with a small laugh, causing you to bring your hands up to hide yourself. 

Jaemin stops you though, pinning your hands down beside your head. "Oh none of that. Where'd my bratty girl go, huh?"

The way that he barely has to use any of his strength to pin you down, plus his large and muscular frame boxing you in, has you practically drooling. 

He inches his face closer to yours, tricking you into thinking he's going to kiss you, but just as your lips graze his he turns to the side, making you kiss his cheek instead. 

"Jaemin," you whine. 

"Sorry sorry, you just looked so desperate for it, I couldn't resist,” Jaemin knows the effect his words have on you because your hips are bucking up into the air as the throbbing returns to your core.

"Want a proper kiss?" he asks, and you nod, staring up at him with pleading eyes. "Yeah? Beg." 

It's a simple command that usually would have had you scoffing, telling Jaemin to get over himself and stop teasing, but you're so needy for his touch that you give in. 

"Jaemin", you whine again — and oh does he love the way you say his name. "Baby please, kiss me, I- I need it." 

He knows that you can beg better than that, he's heard you do it plenty of times, but he takes mercy on you, partially because his own need is screaming just as loud as yours is. He lets his lips connect with yours and wastes no time ravishing your mouth. 

He growls into the kiss, bringing one of his hands to curl around your throat, adding a little pressure as his tongue explores your mouth like he's never kissed it before.

You two are a desperate mess now, as you start to work with each other until you’re both fully undressed. Breathy pants and soft moans fill the silence in the room. 

Jaemin’s towering over you, his knees poking in between your legs to probe them wider for him. You don’t resist, you don’t want to. One of his hands reaches down to fist the throbbing cock between his own legs as he rubs himself teasingly between your seeping folds. 

"Condom?" You ask, trying to think as clearly as possible.

Jaemin looks almost offended that you've asked, scoffing as he positions his tip at your entrance. 

"Since when have we ever used condoms?" 

"We haven’t. I just thought you might want to-"

You're cut off by a gasp as he begins to push into you, the familiar delicious stretch and slight burn settling in. You hear Jaemin swear under his breath, as his hips flush right against yours. 

"You just thought what?" he asks as his head dips down, nosing along your jawline before peppering wet kisses along your neck.

"I- uh,” you stutter, losing your train of thought from the feeling of him inside you; so deep and hard and rough.

You bite down on your lip. You only ever have Jaemin like this; and you can't explain the overwhelming feeling you get whenever you get to have him with no barriers, getting to be as close to him as possible — even if you didn’t deserve it. 

"It's because of him right? You're worried that he'll have to feel my cum deep in this pretty pussy of yours, aren't you?" 

And although his tone is somewhat playful, there's a bite to it. You know how Jaemin feels about having to sneak around; knew all about how he wishes you were his and his only. 

He doesn't allow you to respond though, knowing that's a conversation you'll have to have at a different time. Instead, his hips slowly begin to rut against yours, your mouth dropping open in a silent moan. 

"Fuck fuck fuck,” Jaemin groans against your ear.

Your hands are clawing at his back as his thrusts pick up pace. And as much as he loves you doing that, marking him as yours in your own special way, he redirects your hands to his hair. You immediately begin to tug at his locks, loving the way it feels between your fingers. 

He speeds up his pace. The sharp sting radiating through you, mixed with the sensation of his centre grinding against your own. His movements cause a crippling to all of your senses and creates an unbearable, but familiar, throb in the pit of your belly.

Jaemin is a mess of pants and grunts on top of you, mixed with the low moans that rumble inside of him when he circles his hips harder against you.

"I'd drag this out all night if I could, but my cock is aching for you," he grits through his teeth, snapping his hips against you one last time before pulling away.

He wets his lips, darting his eyes to yours before snapping his mouth from your neck to lean down and press an affectionate kiss against you. Both of you are inhaling sharply into the kiss when you feel him hit his cock in the deepest places, collecting the arousal there.

Your parted lips hover against each other, shallow breaths mixing together as he pulls out of you, and you whine. He starts slowly circling around your entrance like he's teasing himself as well as you. 

You gasp, when he inches forward again, going at a tortuously slow place. He had you so slick with excitement as always there's no resistance at all.  

His eyes squeeze closed as his jaw goes slack, letting out the most erotic moans. You can feel your muscles stretching out to accommodate him and it feels euphoric.

You wrap your legs around him tighter, needing to be closer, as he continues to draw his hips back and forth in fast powerful strokes, switching between kissing you harshly and whispering dirty nothings into the air between you.

You grip your fingers tighter on his hair, moving your lips to go to his neck, kissing and sucking on the skin, feeling his pulse thump harder as you do.

He hisses, clenching his teeth as his hand takes hold of your hip, digging his fingers in while his hips jolt forward, "Shit, if you keep doing that I'm not going to last.”

How needy and desperate he sounds spurs a fire in you, moaning against his skin as you push your hips back against him.

“Then don't last, I won't either, I just need you.”

You nip and suck at the heated skin on his neck, swirling your hips against him to spur him on, and he lets out a frustrated growl before he angles your hips up and draws back, snapping forward roughly. It makes your head roll back as you arch into him when he repeats the action again.

"Is this what you needed baby?" he grits, his jaw tenses as he thrusts into you abruptly.  "Wanted me to fuck into you harder? Wanted someone to fuck you properly? Wanted me to show you just how much better you feel clenched around me?"

You can't answer, only managing to gasp out short, strained moans in rhythm with his thrusts as he drives into you in sharp, deliberate motions, filling and hitting all of the places inside you that only he can.

The noises leaving Jaemin are borderline animalistic, the guttural and hoarse sound, vibrating through your whole body as he starts to fuck into you at a relentless pace.

You can feel yourself tightening and clenching around him, muscles pulling him in with each thrust as he knocks against all the right places that were already aching for him, urging you further into your orgasm.

"Shit- Jaemin, I think I'm gonna co-"

You're cut off once again, but not by Jaemin, by the sound of your front door opening. 

"Babe, are you home?"

[waldau]

hand in mine — lee seokmin | 1,550 words | fluff

slightly inspired by my friend and their partner, i didn't know it was possible for two people to be so in love :') here's just...dk being sappy. sappy dk.

gender neutral reader. warnings: bonus pov?

dokyeom swears you're like a portable human charger.

when he's away, whether it's because he's still in practice or because he's on tour or even when he's at his parents' place, a single phone call from you is enough to lift his spirits to get him through the rest of the day. weekends spent at each other's places together are almost enough to convince him to just become an apartment hermit.

it's been true for ages — and it's true again, tonight.

or it will be, if you'll stop talking to one kim mingyu.

dokyeom's getting antsier the longer you stand there talking to mingyu, nodding along to something he's telling you. can't it wait till tomorrow? doesn't mingyu see he's in dire need of recharging?

now he knows mingyu's not telepathic, but somehow the younger man realizes dokyeom's staring at the two of you, so he finishes whatever he's saying with a nod towards where dokyeom's sitting. you follow his gaze and smile when you see dokyeom, who swears his heart melts a little, right there.

but then you stop to greet joshua, chatting with him for a minute (a whole minute, in this economy?) before you're standing right next to dokyeom.

he stretches his arms out to you. you bend down, letting him wrap himself around you the best he can. it's good, but it's not enough. he lets go only to tug at your hand. "sit down."

you look around. "there's no place, kyeomie. i don't mind standing."

he frowns at you. "i mind. you can sit in my lap."

you give him a look. "in front of your friends? i'd rather not."

dokyeom pouts. "they're your friends, too."

"of course i know that, baby. but they don't ever stop teasing us, do they?"

"ugh. they'll make fun of me, not you. please?"

you run a hand through his hair. "i don't want them to make fun of you, either."

he huffs. "fine. c'mere," he mumbles, scooting to give you some more space. you go willingly this time, settling yourself into the minimal space next to him. it's not easy when there's already thirteen of them in a room, but he manages to nudge chan away to give you some more space.

"hi," you whisper, letting him throw his hand around your shoulder to pull you closer. "missed you today."

dokyeom pulls back to look at you. he feels almost shy to have all your attention on him, silly as it sounds. "just today?" he asks, grinning when you roll your eyes. "you got here safely?"

you nod, leaning up to press a kiss to his nose. "perfectly. there was way lesser traffic than i expected."

"good."

you snuggle into dokyeom's side, stretching your legs out next to his. this is always his favourite place to be — because he can have your words be all for his ears only.

but then he frowns when he sees your outfit — a shirt and a pair of shorts. he takes off his jacket and drapes it across your legs despite your protests.

"you should've worn something warmer," he frowns. you're never good with the cold, and you're not going to be comfortable with the way more than half the members need the air conditioning to be switched on at all times.

"i was almost ready to go to bed, kyeomie," you explain, adjusting the jacket on yourself nonetheless. "i wouldn't be here if shua didn't call me. thank you, though. how was your day?"

dokyeom sighs. he doesn't want to talk about his day when he's been living through it for the entirety of...well, the day, but he has to say something for you. "not...the best," he concedes, resting his head on your shoulder.

"do you want to go home soon?" you ask, your hand finding his, tracing random patterns on his skin. the tingles help ground him.

he shrugs. "i don't know."

it's true, as much as he hates it. he doesn't want to leave because it'll end up breaking up the party — it always so happens that the first person to leave is the catalyst for most others to start wrapping things up, unwittingly. he doesn't want to be a party pooper, but at the same time, he's had a long day. it's like he's been aware of every single second he's been awake, and it's exhausting.

"okay," you say simply. "let's stay for a while more. it's not like we're in a rush. and i know how hard you worked today."

dokyeom closes his eyes at that. he knows he's done well, today being one of those days where he's genuinely looking for the end, but hearing it from you makes it much better. "yeah?"

"yeah," you affirm, hand rising to comb gently through his hair again, left open now that he's discarded his beanie. "i love you, kyeom. so much. it's still hard to put it into words sometimes."

he snuggles a bit more into you at that, slightly satisfied when seungkwan chucks a piece of popcorn at him from the bed, telling you both to stop being so cheesy. he feels even better when you throw it back at seungkwan, letting out a triumphant ha! when it hits him on the knee.

he loves you.

there's no bottom to that endless truth. he's somewhat loved you ever since he first saw you, drawn to the way your sense of humour was so close to his, and the somewhat turned into a definitely the more he got to know you.

dokyeom isn't half of anything — he's all of himself, lee seokmin, content with the way he is except for a few gripes here and there, but you complete him in a way he didn't know any person could.

he's not worried about you leaving him — there's no way either of you are letting that happen. it's more about not knowing who he is without you, now that your lives are so intertwined.

"stop," you mumble, your grip on his hair tightening slightly.

"stop what?"

"thinking. about whatever you are. i told you i love you and i'm not going anywhere."

the haze he's in almost clears a bit at that. "how did you— i didn't—"

"you always get so pensive when you're tired, did you know? i should record you some time. it's like there's a philosopher hidden inside you."

pensive? when he's tired?

"i love you normally," he blurts out, scared at the insinuation that he thinks about how much you mean to him only when he's vulnerable like this.

you're not saying anything back, though. you're just smiling at him.

"what," he asks, breaths a bit shallow.

"i know," you press, hand lifting his to show the ring that sits on his fourth finger. "i love you normally, too."

dokyeom lets out a chuckle. he still can't believe it's possible to love someone this much.

"now let me get you home and help you get some sleep, okay?" you ask, punctuating your question with a tug to his chin. "the others will understand."

as if you have to ask him. he'll go wherever you take him, no questions asked.

joshua can see the change in dokyeom's eyes the moment you walk into the room.

the conversation doesn't stop; mingyu and jun are still arguing about how mingyu should stop taking inspiration from jeonghan when it comes to board games and cheating. jeonghan has a proud smile on his face. wonwoo and minghao have zoned out entirely, too busy with their phones to acknowledge the little fight going on. the others are busy eating or ordering more food or arguing about which movie to watch next.

there's just one person missing from the chaos.

dokyeom's sitting on the floor under the window, entirely in his own world, constantly checking his phone and looking at the door, shutting his eyes for a minute before repeating his actions.

joshua would've poked fun at him if he didn't know how tired dokyeom already was today. a particularly tiring day, especially with a comeback practice they'd just gotten back from, and a going seventeen shoot in which dokyeom had been on the losing team. even though he doesn't like to show it, joshua knows dokyeom is somewhat upset over not winning.

but the moment you walk into the room, it's like a switch has been flipped. dokyeom sits up straighter, the neutral expression on his face morphing into a tired but real smile. he holds his hands out to you and pouts when you stop to greet all the other members first, shaking hands with them or giving them a quick side hug.

joshua pulls you close with ease. "thanks for making it here on such short notice."

"are you seriously thanking me for that?"

"i mean...he really needs to see you. today hasn't been his day."

you look over at your husband for a moment. "i could tell. his texts were pretty dry."

"right? now go get your lover boy. he's been moping all evening long."

you wrinkle your nose at the term, just like he expected you to, but you nod and make your way to dokyeom.

joshua turns away when dokyeom gives you a dopey, lovesick grin. he'll let the teasing go for tonight.

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