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monstersholygrail · 22 days ago

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Rushing Rapids

Merman x fem!reader— teasing, wild sex, creampie, aftercare, and a little teasing of cumplay

You could count on one hand the number of times your Merman Boss has let you see his Merman form. Far too busy running a highly successful company, the man doesn't often have time for a dip in the water to let his true self out to shine.

In fact, it was your job as his bodyguard to make sure he didn't come into contact with any source of water. Even the slightest drop ends up triggering his tail and he's left stuck like that for hours. And while your boss has gone through countless bodyguards to fulfill this task, you've been by far the best.

And you've lasted the longest too. You often hear his workers whispering to each other, secretly teasing him about how he must be in love with you to keep you around so long. While you didn't want to believe it, you couldn't ignore the way your heart flutters whenever it greets your ears.

But after today you're sure any feelings he has toward you are long gone. You half expect him to fire you on spot.

Today had been an important day for him as he had a lunch scheduled with an important client. All was going well until the waiter tripped, sending an entire pitcher of water to crash over him. You had been too slow, hadn't noticed the waiter fumbling nor the trajectory of the pitcher.

For a moment the world went still until your Merman Boss looked up at you with wide horrified eyes. While you were sure the horror was aimed at you, your boss was too busy wondering where he was possibly going to go. Luckily it just so happened that your place was nearby.

Now here you are, sitting on your toilet as your Boss' ginormous frame squishes into your tiny bathtub, his tail even falling off the edge and onto your floor. An adorable little pout marks his lips as he flicks at the water like he's this close to personally trying to fight it.

A part of you fears he's not only angry at the water but at you as well. Sure, you haven't been perfect at your job. You've made small mess ups here and there. But nothing like this.

"You seem upset."

Your Boss snaps his head over toward you, his pout growing impossibly bigger. If you didn't already know the question was ridiculous, his following scoff and the look on his face was plenty enough for you to get the message.

"Of course I'm upset. I just had a very important meeting fall through because a clumsy waiter forgot what even a merperson can do. Walk. And most don't even have legs."

His response stops you in your tracks, jaw dropping a little. He wasn't blaming you at all. The more you look at him the more you realize he isn't mad at you about it at all. Relief blooms in your chest, making you sit a little taller. You internally thank your boss, he should feel some of this relief too.

Without responding to his sarcastic reply you look around the bathroom in search of something that will help uplift the mood for him. As your eyes catch onto a bin in the corner your eyes light up.

Your boss is jolted from his thoughts as you suddenly dump a whole bin full of rubber duckies into the tub. All in attempts of making this feel more like a fun bath and less like a trap. But by the flat look on his face your boss is less than amused. Which you probably should've been expecting.

"Really? Rubber ducks?"

His voice shows his clear disdain for the toy but he hesitantly reaches out a hand and begins pushing it around. Almost... playing with it. Although he'd never admit that to you.

"Well, what else is there to do besides wait it out? There's not any other way to turn you back sooner?"

Your question settles between you two before something sparks in the depths of Merman Boss' eyes. His finger stills on the yellow duck toy but it drifts away in the water and it's impossible to know where it'll end up next. Something unsettling churns in your belly and you get the feeling you're not about to like this.

"Ok, so there may be something... But I can't say it out loud. Come in closer."

A lick of suspicion curls around you and your eyes narrow, appraising your boss. Though with one impatient look from him you know you won't be putting up an argument with him about it. He always ends up getting his way anyway so why not skip the foreplay?

"W-what is it? What can't you say out loud?"

The toilet rattles beneath you as you shift closer. It's the only real sound in the quiet bathroom aside from the swishing of water. Your breath hitches once you reach a certain closeness to your Merman Boss. This being officially the closest you've ever dared to be with him.

"Closer—“

"I'll do anything just tell me what you need," you interrupt, both not wanting to lose your job and giving any excuse you can to be near your boss.

Suddenly his hands are splashing out of the water and gripping onto your soft round hips. A shriek tears through you as one minute you're dry and the next you're soaking wet. And not in the good way either. You smack against a hard chest, your legs straddling the thick width of a tail, and it takes you a second to fully realize that your boss had just pulled you in.

Before you can lift your head to yell at him, his fingers pinch your chin and force you to meet his gaze. What you see in his eyes immediately silences you. The hunger burning in them leaves you gasping, sparking arousal deep in your core.

He leans in, stopping just short of your lips as they brush against each other. Your breath mingling and making you squirm on his slick tail. While you watch him stare down at your lips, waves of arousal continue to build within you.

"A human's kiss can turn me back much faster than simply waiting," he whispers softly like he doesn't want to break the tension between you.

Your body tingles with need as every fantasy you've ever dared to have about your boss dares to come to life. Every inch of you is overcome with impatience as you wriggle on his lap some more, gasping when something hard pops out from a slit on his tail.

"So why don't you kiss me?"

If possible, your Boss' eyes grow darker, the hunger inside them roaring to life as if trying to consume even him. His hold on your chin tightens like he's the one who needs to keep you still while he's shaking from his own restraint.

"Because once I start I won't be able to stop at just a kiss."

You go to ask what he means he bucks up his hips, intently brushing his rock hard cock along your clothed slit. And you immediately moan, totally unprofessional by the way, eyelashes fluttering briefly till you manage to look at your boss again.

You consider his words and what they could mean for you after this. But you want this, you've always wanted this since you first started working for the mysterious man. And it seems like he wants you just so much. So there's no need to fight it.

"Then don't stop," you reply.

Merman Boss surges forward before the words finish falling from your lips, his mouth clashing against yours. Mirroring moans vibrate between you like you're the sweetest damn thing he's ever tasted.

He presses into you as if trying to devour you, kissing you hard. Tongues fight for dominance and teeth knock together in your sheer desperation to make up for all the time you spent together not doing this.

His hand moves from your chin, caressing the skin of your cheek, and threading itself inside your hair. Ensuring you're real and that this is actually happening. Using his hold on you he molds your plump frame against his and starts rocking your core against his hard length.

"Get these off," he pants heavily, only breaking away from the kiss long enough to say that and then he's right back on you.

With a shocking amount of skill, the two of you manage to peel off your wet clothes in record time.

Both of you release strong powerful moans as your dripping cunt first makes contact with his thick girth. Every nerve in your body pulses as he takes hold of his cock and drags it through your folds, coating his length with your essence.

"You have no idea how long l've wanted this. Wanted you,” he breathes, his eyes shining with a longing that reflects your own.

"I have some idea."

Then you both moan as you sink down on his long pulsing cock, your hips buckling down on his length, taking him in hard and fast. Something ignites in your boss’ eyes and you shiver as his hands curl over your plush waist to help guide your movements.

But he has no idea how long you’ve been needing this, and it’s clear by the way his eyes widen as you start to ride him like your life depended on it. Your fingers dig into the scales on his shoulders to ground you and he hisses, his cock twitching and sliding against that special spot inside you.

With a fierce cry you start riding him even harder, every hard wet slap of your bodies meeting is aimed right for that spot, making you see stars. The water sloshes around in the tub like it’s in the midst of a raging storm when in reality it’s just you and your boss fucking each other’s brains out.

“Look at you, so perfect f’me. More than I ever realized,” your boss purrs, sounding as if he’s found the oceans most greatest treasure.

You moan loudly, your head rolling back as waves of pleasure rock through your body with every hard pump of his cock, his words only turning you on even more. Your body begins to buzz, on the precipice of something huge.

It only takes a few more pointed thrusts before you’re coming all over his cock with a ragged gasp, your body tensing before you sag against him, letting him take what he needs. And feeling your slick gummy walls clamping so deliciously on his length drives him nearly feral, his fangs flashing and his claws digging into your skin.

He moves your pussy up and down his cock, spurred on by every whine and whimper that falls from your mouth. Piercing growls slip from his own as your cunt drives him absolutely insane, he’s never felt anything better.

And he proves just that as he drives in as far as his cock can go and releases buckets of cum right into your depths, having never cum so hard in his life.

You both fall back to rest against the back of the tub, the only sound in the room being your harsh panting breaths. His hands smooth the tremors from your body, brushing up along your spine and holding you close. It’s nice and peaceful. Or is it the calm before the storm?

Because the longer he does it the action goes from soothing to arousing. And you know he can feel it too, just how much it’s affecting you. Your pulsing walls already trying to milk more from his spent shaft. And sea gods help him but it’s working.

“You know… it’ll still be some time before my tail fades. Why not make the most of it?” Your boss asks, hands sliding down to grab handfuls of your fat ass, and flexing his stomach as he rolls his hardening cock into your cum-filled cunt.

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bluukive · 20 days ago

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- ᡣ𐭩 Home is Where the Heart is

summary - What's more endearing than your affectionate husband? Your drunk, affectionate husband.

warnings - none, minus Satoru being a little snotty whilst crying. First proper attempt at a short fluff fic !! Kinda proofread (n idk how being drunk works lolol)

wc - 1044

It’s been exactly 23 minutes since your bumbling oaf of a husband came back home from a night out. After all, even the strongest needed some time to unwind.

The front door slammed shut and a loud crash followed. It was most likely his gangling body colliding with the coat rack. Again.

A groan. “W-who put thaaaat there?” he whined, long legs dragging all the way up the stairs. Too many of them, Satoru thought. He should probably hollow purple them all later. But only later, because right now? His lower lip was wobbling and there was a dull pain in his arm from crashing into the bedroom door. It swung open once he had a good grip on the handle, and alas, the tears started to fall.

Satoru trudged over to the king-sized bed, not bothering to kick his shoes off.

“I miss my b-bitchass wife,” Satoru sniffled, drunken words muffled by the increasingly sodden pillow that he had buried his face into. His heart ached terribly. How did anyone expect him to live without the love of his life beside him?

Satoru honestly thought he’d die without hearing your voice, so he fumbled about for his phone in one of the pockets of his tweed jacket once he was able to prop himself up on an elbow (trust your boyfriend to make the most questionable fashion choices). The intoxicated look in his eyes and the rosy cheeks would have been adorable if not for the fact that his nose was running from all of the dramatics, but Satoru couldn’t bring himself to care. With a quick wipe of his sleeve, his long, sluggish fingers went to work.

Ring. Ring.

“Heeeeey gorgeous-”

“This isn’t your wife, Satoru. Wrong number.”

Click.

Somewhere in the city, a tired sorcerer was exhaling out of his nose and clenching his jaw. How awkward.

Again, Satoru scrolled through his contact list with bleary eyes. Fuck, where were you?

Suguru? Not it.

Shoko? Nah.

Mei Mei? Fuck no. He’d rather deepthroat a cactus than be associated with her, as he so loved to remind you frequently.

But finally! ‘Wifey’, the contact name read. Satoru sniffed and tried pulling himself together before pressing ‘ring’, a giddy look in his twinkling blue eyes. The eager pants that left his lungs fell in sync with the rapid thuds of his heart.

Oh, he got to hear his beloved again! Joy to the world!

And what was even better was the fact that you answered on the first ring. “Yoohoo? What is my awfully drunk husband doing calling me at this hour?” you tittered, eyes crinkling further shut the wider your smile grew.

Satoru swooned. God, what a dreamboat you were. His eyes fluttered shut as he rolled over onto his back, lower lip caught between his teeth. “Hmm? ‘M all fiiiiine and sober, I promise! I just m-miss you, that’s all…”

“No more lying, Mr. Cottonmouth. You are sooo drunk.”

A sniffle left Satoru. Your playful demeanour was getting to him good and proper. How did he get so blessed with a wife like you?

“...Toru? Don’t cry on me now, baby. Talk to me,” your voice called out, softening once the first telltale sign of your husband’s vulnerability came out. But whilst you were growing tender with Satoru, that same smile was still on your lips.

“Well-” he tried to say, but his voice cracked. Satoru cleared his throat and began speaking once more. “I love you so goddamn much.”

And honestly, it warmed your heart to hear how he didn’t stammer through his declaration of adoration for you, even if no other words came as naturally to him.

“L-like, I think I’d die without you.” One pause.

“I just wanna crawl under your skin ‘n live there.” Another pause and a slight shudder.

“I want you to hold my heart in your hand ‘n feel it b-beat for you,” Satoru croaked out, shoving his face into his pillow once more. He felt so miserable that you weren’t there with him.

But you should have been. You should have been laying there, head on his chest and one leg thrown over his hip as you both dreamt of each other. The fact that you weren’t doing that made Satoru’s heart clench so painfully.

And then he began wailing. Long, dramatic wails accompanied by hiccuping sobs that had you pulling away your phone from your ear with a wince. On and on the sobs went, and a deadpan expression slowly began appearing on your face. The game had gone on for long enough, and you missed your husband snoring like a baby beside you.

“Satoru. I’m quite literally beside you.”

Yes. Your husband, in his drunken haze, hadn’t noticed you in your shared bed. You were sitting up against the headboard, staring down at your pitifully hammered spouse.

Click!

You both hung up your phones in silence, your shoulders bobbing as you concealed a fit of laughter. Satoru sat up slowly, clearly not amused.

His face was flushed nicely now, and not just because of the alcohol. His eyes remained blurry and unfocused, but indeed! You were sitting there with the biggest grin on your stupidly gorgeous face.

“So y-you were just watchin’ me whilst I was pouring my heart out like a widow?”

You shrugged, shuffling over with a hand reaching out to tug your sulking husband closer. “It was cute. I like this side of you. Minus the wailing.”

“T-traitor. You’re such a traitor,” he groaned, the prank you had pulled sobering him up slightly. The embarrassment coursed through him as he lay down next to you, glassy eyes burning a hole through the ceiling. But hey! At least you were with him, right?

“...I feel stupid. Can you kiss me?”

“Wipe your nose first, you man-child,” your nose scrunched as you tossed a wad of tissues his way.

In record time, Satoru had scrubbed his entire face dry and raw, then flopped onto you. He didn’t care that your fists were thumping at his chest. He didn’t care that he was slobbering all over your face and pecking you like an eager puppy. What mattered now was the fact that he was finally where his heart was.

With you.

divider by @cafekitsune

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superhoeva · 3 months ago

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awkward!simon/pharmacy au part two | part one

"i never got to thank you for your help."

simon jumps out of his lean against the side of the building, cursing under his breath when the cigarette tucked between his fingers falls dumbly to the ground. gulping, he glances at you before averting his stare to settle somewhere on your cheek.

not your eyes, but close enough.

"s'not a problem," he nods slowly, mind blanking on what else he could say. he catches how you shift, unsure of what to do with the silence he's forced to let linger. biting the inside of his lip, simon clears his throat. "'uh, yeah. glad i could help."

you give him a small, bashful smile in return of his words and the man nearly stops breathing. he feels his face flushing once again, and he's lucky you're nice enough to not say anything about it.

more silence. you and simon squirm when you accidentally make eye contact before quickly looking away to the nearest anything. his stare lands on the bag in your grasp, filled with those damn pills and the few other items he saw you pluck from the shelves when you'd caught his eye at least ten minutes before reluctantly asking him for help.

the nerve's rattling simon soon grate into a prickly annoyance. god, you having to waste your money on something like that for someone that simon's certain is sticking it in someone else is nipping away at his sense. chest puffing as he takes in a sigh, his index finger scratches a random spot as the back of his head as he grumbles.

"wish there was somethin' i could do t' help. gorgeous thing like you shouldn't suffer over some bloke like that..."

gorgeous. did he just say gorgeous? he must've based on the gobsmacked fucking look on your face.

shit. he's fucked–and not just because his insides flutter at how wide your eyes are and how satisfying your lips look when they're parted in surprise.

simon blinks at you, eyes reading of horror and a hint of panic. when you open your mouth to sputter out a reply, the man turns and makes a b-line for the side door of the pharmacy that's a few feet away.

employees only is plastered across it and you need to know the code to press on the keypad to unlock it and get in, so there's no way you can follow after him and his red cheeks. great.

what's not so great is how foolishly simon's fingers mash into the buttons as he attempts to escape. it takes two times of the buzzer letting him know he's wrong before he can finally think slowly enough to remember the correct order of the four numbers.

simon sends you one last breathless glance and already knows that the dumbfounded look still plastered across your face–the look that has all his blood rushing downward–is going to haunt him for the rest of the day. he slips back into the pharmacy's supply room, the door clanging loudly behind him.

the man collapses back-first against the metal with a huff, one of his hands reaching to wipe at his eyes.

nice. you think he's nice?

"fuck," he whispers thickly to himself, glancing down and grunting at just how noticeable his bulge is becoming as his mind floods with the thought of you; your lips. your watery eyes. your sweet words. all of you. squeezing at his cock through his pants, he hisses at the throb it generates.

glancing at a nearby clock, simon's thinks. whether the six minutes he has before john will probably come looking for him are enough or not, simon couldn't care less.

he doesn't even bother unzipping his pants, slinking a hand into his waistband with little shame. his eyes roll at the way his palm slicks right over his head, and simon grinds into the feeling with a pleased huff.

good thing he skipped wearing underwear today. and thank fuck he threw on his darker jeans.

#cod x reader #cod x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley imagine #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley

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gf2bellamy · 4 months ago

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I just want to say that I love all of your fics! They are so sweet and cute and 🥰🥰🥰🥰

Can I please request reader meeting Penelope at like a pottery club or art class or cafe or something and the two of them hit it off and become really good friends and reader mentions that her boyfriend is coming to pick her up and just gushes about how sweet he is and how much she loves him. And then Spencer shows up and Penelope is like “oh my god!!!”

coffee — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: nothing i think a/n: absolutely loved this idea tysm for ur request ! <3

You took the last sip of your coffee, laughing loudly at the story Penelope had just told you.

“I cannot believe you actually said that,” you said, shaking your head in disbelief, still grinning.

Penelope simply shrugged, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Someone had to say it,” she quipped, smirking as she took another sip of her now nearly empty cup.

You had met Penelope purely by accident—a mix-up at the coffee shop when the barista had mistakenly switched your orders. You could have just exchanged cups and gone on with your day, but somehow, the two of you ended up talking. And talking. One thing led to another, and suddenly, you were sitting together at the same table like old friends.

Now, as you noticed her cup was empty too, you felt reluctant to let the moment end.

“We should do this again,” you said, tilting your head at her.

Penelope’s eyes lit up instantly. “Yes. Yes. Most definitely yes,” she nodded enthusiastically, already reaching across the table for your phone before you could even offer it.

“I’m going out tonight with some friends from work,” she explained as she tapped her number into your contacts. “They’re wonderful people, and we’d have so much fun. You should totally come with.”

She handed your phone back, her enthusiasm contagious. You smiled, appreciating the offer, but you shook your head apologetically as you glanced at your screen.

“Can’t,” you said. “My boyfriend’s picking me up and we're grabbing dinner together.”

At that, Penelope’s brows arched with intrigue. “Boyfriend?” she echoed, her smirk returning.

You nodded, feeling warmth creep into your cheeks. “Yeah.”

Her grin widened as she leaned in slightly. “And? Tell me about this mystery man.”

You laughed softly at her curiosity, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Well… he’s kind of the sweetest person I know,” you admitted, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “Like, the kind of person who remembers all the little things—my favorite snacks, the way I take my coffee, even the books I say I want to read but never get around to.”

Penelope let out a dreamy sigh. “Okay, I love this already. Keep going.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “He’s ridiculously smart, but he doesn’t act like he knows everything. He’s just… thoughtful, in a way that sneaks up on you.” You glanced at your phone again, checking the time. “Like, this morning, he woke me up with pancakes. He burned the edges a little, but he still insisted on making them.”

Penelope gasped dramatically. “Okay, I’m officially obsessed with him. He sounds like a dream.”

You laughed, nodding. “He really is.”

Before Penelope could press for more details, your phone buzzed in your hand. You glanced down at the screen, your heart skipping a beat at the name flashing across it. “That’s him,” you said with a grin, slipping your phone into your pocket.

Penelope’s smirk grew as she crossed her arms. “Well, now I have to meet this perfect man of yours.”

You huffed a small laugh. “Yeah,” you admitted. “He should be outside right about now.” And with that, the two of you stood up, walking out of the coffee shop together.

There he was, Spencer, standing just outside with his back to you, hands casually tucked into his pockets. The sight of him sent a warm flutter through your chest.

“Spencer,” you called softly, excitement bubbling in your voice as you walked toward him, a wide smile spreading across your face.

He turned at the sound of your voice, his own smile instinctive. But then, just as quickly as it appeared, his expression faltered. His shoulders stiffened, his smile slipping away.

Your steps slowed. “What?” you asked, brow furrowing, your arms—once ready to wrap around him, now hanging uselessly at your sides.

His gaze wasn’t on you. It was locked onto Penelope.

The two of them stood there, staring at each other, and the atmosphere shifted dramatically. Spencer wore a shocked and worried expression, while Penelope’s face was a mask of smug satisfaction.

“Uh…” you said, glancing back and forth between them, trying to decipher the sudden tension. “Spencer, this is Penelope. I met her at the coffee shop today. And Penelope, this is Spencer, my boyfriend.” You lightly touched his arm, hoping to draw his attention back to you.

“Oh my god,” Penelope suddenly squealed, her eyes practically glowing with excitement. You turned to her, utterly bewildered.

“Spencer Reid,” she announced dramatically, planting her hands on her hips. “How dare you hide this from me?”

Spencer, whose face had somehow turned even redder, mumbled something under his breath that you didn’t quite catch.

Penelope, however, was having none of it. She spun toward you, pointing at him. “This?! This is your boyfriend?”

“…Yes?” you said slowly, the confusion growing.

She gasped, clutching her chest as if she had just heard the most scandalous news. “The Spencer Reid you’ve been gushing about? The one who makes you pancakes and remembers every single detail about you ?”

Your mouth opened slightly as realization dawned. “Wait. You know Spencer?”

“Oh, honey.” Penelope let out an exaggerated sigh. “Know him? I work with him. He is my Spencer.”

You blinked. “Your Spencer?”

Spencer finally let out a groan, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Garcia…”

“Reid,” she shot back with a gleeful grin.

You took a step back, looking between them, still processing. “Wait, you’re Garcia?”

Penelope gasped again, looking mock-offended. “He didn’t tell you my name? I thought we were friends now!”

Spencer rubbed his temple. “I didn’t think—”

“You didn’t think?” she interrupted, feigning shock. “Did you not think I would love her?”

He sighed, defeated.

You, meanwhile, had fully shifted from confusion to amusement, the situation far funnier now that you understood. “In his defense, I only knew you as ‘Garcia.’”

“Well, that changes now!” Penelope declared, looping her arm through yours as if you had been best friends for years. “Come on, we have so much to talk about.”

Spencer sighed again, but there was a small, fond smile pulling at his lips as he watched you two. He was in deep trouble.

#spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #spencer reid x you #criminal minds x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fic

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suiana · 3 months ago

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✎ yandere! overachiever fic . . .

✎ warnings . . .

― obsessiveness, kidnapping, pathetic yandere me thinks etc.

(gn! reader x male yandere! oc)

Life is always unfair. Finn had always known that.

Good grades never came easy. He had to work for it. Same with everything else. And even then

it was never enough.

Not for him, not for anyone else. He would always be subpar, grasping for whatever he could reach.

'Try harder next time.'

It was like, life was trying to taunt him. Trying to taunt him with a goal he'd never be able to reach. It sucked a lot. Because like I said before, he's subpar. Second place. The one choosing, never the chosen.

And then came you. Beautiful, perfect, smart little you. The you that he envied for always stealing first place from him. The you that always had everything handed to them.

You,

you,

you.

The you that suddenly confessed to him, telling him you loved him.

He didn't know what to make of it. Was this some sort of joke? Some... elaborate plan to shake him off balance and prevent him from being a threat? Not like that would ever be likely seeing as how you effortlessly got 100s and he would work his ass off for a measly 95 but anyway!

"You... like me?"

"Yeah, you're everything I want in a guy."

Finn blinked, unsure of how to take this. Was he supposed to reject you? Accept? He barely knew you. In fact, the only thing he really knew was that you were number 1 and always beat him in exams.

"I-"

Your lovely voice interrupts him.

"You don't have to accept. I just wanted to tell you."

Look at you, all red in the face like a blushing scholar. This overachiever doesn't know what to make of it. He's... never been someone who gets confessed to, really. He's never been confessed to before.

Scared? Yeah, he definitely is. What's a perfect person like you doing confessing to him? But more importantly, you've got his attention now.

And he wants to learn more.

"Okay..."

You're beautiful when you're rambling about your interests, Finn thinks. You're rambling off, going on a tangent about your current hyperfixation.

He's not really listening. All of it is going in one year and oning out the other. No, he's too busy admiring... you. As embarrassing as it sounds, mr second place has begun spending time out of his studies to hang out with you. That's what people do when they want to know more about someone, right?

"So what do you think of it?"

Shit.

You're looking at him, all wide eyed and smiley faced waiting for his answer. You're probably interested in what he thinks about your super niche interest. Meanwhile he was too busy thinking of how cute you looked.

"Huh? Uh, oh, it's cool I guess."

Finn raises a hand to rub his neck, offering a half-hearted smile. Shit he's so fucked... Did you aks a question? Are you asking for his opinion on it? Is his answer okay? Pleasetakethebaitpleasetakethebait-

"Really? That's what I thought too!"

Finn feels his shoulders visibly slack. Sheesh, he really got lucky with that one.

But... Why did he even doze off in the first place? He isn't normally this... distracted. Not really. He's always so focused on the present but...

Was he really just interested?

Finn isn't an attractive guy by any means. Or maybe he is and he just doesn't know it. Hey, do you think that's why so many people stare but don't approach? Because he's too sexy? Haha...

He's not that tall, like 5'11 and lanky. Dark hair obviously, and the most nerdy square glasses ever. He also has dark eyes and eyebags. What a shocker. Touching grass? What's that? He only knows how to study.

Not really the most conventional definition of attractive but hey, it could be your cup of tea if that's what you're into.

But...

"You're handsome."

Ah...

Finn feels his cheeks flush red, eyelashes fluttering as he avoids eye contact. What? So suddenly... Like this?

"Uh... Thanks."

Bro. He's actually so cooked. What is this feeling? Is he having a heart attack? There's no reason why his heart should be beating this fast right now.

"You're... You're good looking too."

The poor guy glances at your face, eyeing your expression. Hm... Was that your lip quirking up? Did you like what he said?

Finn grins a little, glancing away. God, you're so cute.

"Hehe I know. Anyway I gotta go, see ya around Finn."

And with that, you were gone again, slipping through his fingers. But he's actually thankful this time. Finn doesn't think he can handle another second with you, not after you smiled so sweetly and called him handsome. Not after calling him by his name with that beautiful voice of yours.

"Fuck..."

His hand slides down his face, eyes dark and eyebags heavy. The tips of his ears burn red, his skin running hit.

"I think I'm in love."

finn: meet me in the library

finn: please?

read at 12.34

Gulps.

It's been approximately 5 minutes since you left him on read and Finn doesn't know how much longer he can spend waiting. His clothes feel all too small, the walls are closing in on him.

Should he just leave? Maybe you're not coming. Why would you? You probably don't care... Maybe you know he's going to confess. That's why you're late. That's why you-

"Hah... Hah... I'm here Finn."

Oh.

Nevermind.

"Oh, you're here."

He pauses. You... had your hands on your knees, panting and sweating like you just ran a marathon.

"Sorry I'm late, I ran all the way from the other side of campus."

Shit, you ran here? That explains why you were breathless and red in the faced. Now he feels bad for thinking you were standing him up.

"You didn't have to..."

But you did. The black haired guy would be on the verge if a mental breakdown if you had arrived just a second later.

Finn glances at you, feeling the familiar warmth enter his cheeks as he takes in the sight of you God... You're beautiful. It doesn't matter what you look like, to him you're absolutely gorgeous.

And then you just had to look at him with those eyes.

"So what's up? Why'd you call me here so suddenly?"

He gulps and looks away, the cold room suddenly feeling all too hot. Geez, they need to turn the AC up in here! He's burning hot.

Mr second place mumbles out something incomprehensible, awkwardly fiddling with the hem of his shirt before facing you again.

"Ahaha... About that... I just... Um..."

Finn's thought this would be easy. He's thought this over in his head a million times while daydreaming about you. While admiring you while you sat in class, thinking about how you'd blush and fawn over him when he finally confessed. While watching you through your window as you scrolled your phone late into the night. You're thinking about him weren't you? You nust be thinking about him even when you're doing the most mundane of things, right?!

Yeah, it doesn't stop there. But that's besides the point.

He'd call you over, confess calmly like the chill guy he was, and you two would be happy together because you liked him back. That was the plan.

This.

This wasn't the plan.

He didn't expect to be hesitating, anxious. He didn't expect to be worried about your response. He didn't want to tell you his feelings, too afraid that you'd reject him despite knowing that you liked him.

Was this... fear?

"I..."

He gulps.

"Hm?"

"Ilikeyoualot."

There. He said it.

Finn shuts his eyes, hiding his face in his hands before peeking out behind the gaps of his fingers. What were you going to say? Were you going to reject him? Oh Finn's heart doesn't know if he can handle that...

"What was that?"

Eh? You didn't... catch his confession?

Then you chuckled, a hint of red dusting your cheeks.

"You're so cute Finny."

"F-Finny?!"

"Come here and give me a kiss!"

Finn didn't even have time to react before you threw yourself at him. He stumbles lightly, lips parting as you press your cheek to his lips and let out a giggle.

Shit, he's sweating. This is all too much for him. He swears he's used to your teasing but now...

"Get out of the library you two!"

"Haha!"

Man screw the librarian. He's a taken man now.

Right? That's why you giggled when the librarian chased you two out...

Right?

"So we're dating now?"

You smile at him and Finn swears he's been gazed at by an angel. His hearts racing, cheeks an impossible shade of red. Things can't possibly get worse-

"What do you think Finny?"

Zoo wee mama bury him alive at this point 🤑🤑🤑

Hm. Finn doesn't know what to do. He's... conflicted.

So you two have been dating for a while now, yeah? And everything's great! Fantastic even! You're such a wonderful person and Finn couldn't be happier that you chose to be with him.

There's just one problem.

You've begun showing interest in someone else.

Finn trusts you! Of course he does! You're the love of his life! His one and only! He's had many beautiful memories with you and he knows you'd never do such a heinous thing like betraying his trust.

But... you've been spending too much time with this new friend of yours and it's driving him insane.

Click. The door clicks open.

Ah, so you finally decided to come home, huh.

"Welcome back, how was your outing with your friend?"

Finn puts on a forced smile for you. Can't get you angry, what if you break up with him because you think he's too controlling? He wouldn't want that. Not at all.

"It was good. He's really cool, you should meet him sometime!"

Yeah, like hell he would.

Just the thought of you hanging out with another guy sickens him to the core. Scratch that, the thought of you hanging out with literally anyone other than him or your family sickens him. It literally makes him want to tear off his face. All that just so you would keep to yourself.

But he can't do that, can he? He's not that kind of person.

"I really enjoy his company, he's a really good friend."

On second thought... Maybe not.

His eye twitches and he has to hold himself back from saying anything rash. No... he wouldn't want to scare you. Not now. What if you end up hating him?

Finn can't handle that.

Your Finn can't handle that.

"Do you... really like him that much?"

That's... okay, right? You-

"Yeah, he's a good friend finny."

...Huh...

"Right... I understand."

Your boyfriend smiles at you, extending a hand to gently rub your head. Right. Just a friend.

He's just a friend.

Nothing more, nothing less.

He has nothing to be threatened by. Nothing at all. It's not like you'd ever leave him. You know you're all he has.

You're all that's good in his life.

You wouldn't hurt him like that. You won't.

"Hey... do you think we've been spending too much time with each other recently?"

What?

Finn pauses in his tracks, the pencil he was holding slipping from his hands. He heard you right, yeah? You said you two had been spending too much time with each other?

"Haha, what makes you say that?"

He must be overthinking it. You can't have meant that right?

"It's just... maybe we should have some time away from each other. I just want some me time."

Hah...

Ah...

Finn takes a step back, eyes widening just the slightest bit before he covers his mouth with his hand. No way, you're serious? Why? After all he's done?

"I-I didn't upset you, did I?"

"What? No no, I just want some me time, y'know?"

Yeah but...

Don't you love him?

You know how he gets when he's without you, right?

"B-but..."

Finn pauses when he sees your expression. Lips parted slightly, eyebrows furrowed just the tiniest bit.

You're annoyed.

"Ah..."

Nonono

No.

Are you breaking up with him? Is this your way of letting him down easy? Shit, he knew you never really liked it, probably just some passing infatuation because you were interested in how someone like him could be second place. Maybe it was all a ploy to get study information? All those times before you two got together, complimenting him, blushing and telling him he's exactly your type were all lies, right?

Fuck...

Your boyfriend glances up, helplessness filling his body. No... no... he doesn't want to believe it but knowing you...

Is it because you're interested in another guy?

"Are you breaking up with me?"

"What? No, that's not what I'm trying to-"

"I knew it! You didn't actually love me, did you?! You just wanted to play with me, right?! Now you're moving onto the next guy just like that!"

"What are you talking about Finny? It's not like that, I really just want to-"

You freeze.

What... what's with that look in his eyes? And why's he coming closer? Usually you'd welcome him with open arms but there's something off about him right now...

You're scared.

"Finn... You're creeping me out..."

Before you can say anything else though, he latches onto your arms, grip surprisingly strong for someone who rarely exercises. Dread floods your body and you desperately try to break free.

It's no use, of course. He's too strong.

"Finn? Let go please! I swear 'm not breaking up with you!"

"Liar! If you're not breaking up with me you wouldn't be asking for a break!"

He gets uncomfortably close, eyes wide and manic. You can hear his heart pounding, or is that yours? You don't know, everything is so loud you can't exactly focus...

"No... You can't leave me. You're all that's good in my life."

"Finn let-"

"I can't lose you."

And just for a split second, you think you catch a glimpse of the old Finn, the Finn you knew before... before all this absurdity consumed him.

That's right, you weren't exactly trying to break up with him. You just wanted some time to yourself because of how clingy he's been recently. Ever since you got that new friend, Finn's been hovering around you like some sort of demon and it's gotten really exhausting. You thought that maybe a short break would get him back to his usual shy and cute self.

You could never have expected this to happen. Never.. would have expected him to go this far.

"I'm sorry... I'm really sorry... But if I don't do this, you'll leave me. I simply cannot have that happening. You mean too much to me."

Ah...

Just like that, you were out like a light.

It's warm, at least. His arms....

"I love you, I love you so much..."

Don't ever leave me, please.

#yandere #tw yandere #yandere x reader #yandere drabbles #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #yandere concepts #yandere fic #yandere overachiever #yandere overachiever x reader #gn reader #male yandere #suiana rambling #suiana brainrotting

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mv1simp · 5 months ago

Text

That Boy Is Mine ♥️

Max Verstappen x Siren!Reader

that boy is mine, I can’t wait to try him, watch me take me time, boy is divine (that boy is mine)

As a young, beautiful and rich CEO living in Monaco, you have any man you want in the palm of your hand. But a certain handsome Dutchman has caught your eye…there’s just a small problem of his current girlfriend that’s in your way! You’ll just have to prove to Max how much better you could treat him.

Content Includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, seductress! girlboss! Reader, naive!max, infidelity but Max’s unnamed gf is annoying anyway, size kink, Halloween costume sex lol, seriously explicit cheating don’t read if not ur thing!!!, 4.7k WC

The thing was, you wouldn’t normally ever go to such lengths for a boy. Why would you? You were a pretty girl in her 20’s living in Monaco, running your own successful public relations management firm. That’s how you’d met Max, through a PR crisis of Redbull that Christian Horner had personally called you to get sorted. Some drama with a defamation lawsuit against their poster boy, Max Verstappen, who you hadn’t paid a second of attention to despite living in Monaco. You were much more likely to get your nails done and enjoy a glass of wine than be following a race weekend.

But after you’d easily sorted the mess out, you’d been suprised to find Max himself patiently waiting in your luxurious office, wanting to thank you with a gift of tasteful French wine. It’s rare for one of your clients to take accountability for their actions instead of letting their managers sort it out for them, after all. You don’t miss the way Max’s pretty blue eyes widened as he took in your appearance, with a tight black dress with lacy sleeves that did wonders to push your tits up temptingly. He’d been expecting some old man, not a beautiful girl his age. He cleared his throat nervously, suddenly finding it hard to maintain contact with your sultry eyes as he stuttered his thank you. Cute, you think with a tilt of your head, enjoying his deep Dutch accent. He’s very different to the arrogant, pompous personality you’d expected from a champion F1 driver. And he was insanely gorgeous too, all 6 foot of thick thighs and broad shoulders. You’ve met many attractive men in Monaco and flirted your way around them, but Max catches your eye with his baby blue eyes and soft blonde locks. So you can’t help gently brushing your manicured hand against his bulging bicep, looking up at him with fluttering lashes to say it’s so sweet of him to go to all the trouble to come downtown, really, you’re happy to help him anytime!

He walks out of your office with your personal phone number for any media emergencies, of course. As well as a blushing face and a semi erection he guiltily tugs at his pants to hide, after looking down to see your plump, soft cleavage when your smaller body pressed up against his.

A quick google stalk of your client leaves you feeling very annoyed when you discover he’s not single like you’d originally hoped. You roll your eyes as you look at the B list model’s Insta he’s dating, spammed full of photos of her with Max’s wins for clout or artificial brand collabs. So tacky and undeserving of someone like Max, you muse later that evening over an espresso martini. You’re too deep in your own thoughts to pay attention to your date with a Monaco hotel chain owner that evening.

When you find a massive bouquet of roses on your desk the next day, you assume your date was being persistent despite your disinterest last night. But when you find VIP tickets to Max’s garage next race and first class flights nestled amongst the red flowers, you’re even more intrigued. You attended, out of curiosity more than anything. You’re not planning on getting involved with an already taken man - far too much drama for the CEO of a media relations company.

But you can’t deny Max knows how to give a girl princess treatment, something which you’d gotten used to providing for yourself since no man had been able too. From the relaxing, personalised flight experience, to the sleek expensive Mercedes he’d had sent to pick you up at the airport, the 5 star suite in a hotel, and to the exciting VIP lounge at his garage filled with interesting people you’d easily networked with. And when you see Max confidently dominate through the track to P1, sounding so sexy over the radio without a hint of shyness, pulling off his helmet afterwards to show off his gorgeous, messy hair as he adorably smiles at you to ask how you’d enjoyed the day, you realized this wasn’t just any man. No, Max was the one, the perfect man to provide you with whatever you asked for and take care of you when you needed him.

Not that you needed him to. After all, you were well known as one of the most successful businesswomen in your country - and you didn’t get that title without a pair of fangs to match. You’d be a true power couple - much better suited than his current subpar girlfriend, who dragged him down in every way.

You’d made up your mind. That boy was destined to be yours, no matter what.

So you began developing your relationship with Max and become frequently seen on the paddock, all under the guise of improving his media image, of course. The handsome blonde had no issues spending time with you, finding you to share his sarcastic sense of humour and in awe of your very keen analytical sense that you easily applied to the racing world as well. He liked how you were unfazed with the media circus that surrounded him, too, not blinking twice when trashy gossip magazines posted suggestive captions about you and Max. And you always seemed to know just how to carefully phrase your words assertively when asked insensitive questions by grid reporters, who were curious about Max’s new PR advisor. It was very different to what he was used to with his girlfriend, who frequently fed into gossip column content with Insta posts and livestreams - which constantly annoyed Max.

Soon you’re a regular amongst his group of friends. You meet his girlfriend, finally, at a dinner one night. She’s taken her hold on Max for granted, barely interested in you as she snaps selfies with the more famous people at the table. You can’t resist the foxy smile on your glossed lips - it’s almost too easy, given how unaware she seems of how discontent Max is with the relationship. You sit next to him all night, laughing and sipping your favourite wine that he now knows by heart and orders for you, the conversation genuine and a bit too flirty for “just friends”. And when your lace minidress rides up, and your soft thighs and crossed ankles brush against his muscular legs, he doesn’t move away, letting you press against him for warmth when he rests his large palm around your thigh. Your panties are soaked through by the time you get home from how often you had to clench your legs, imaging his massive hands drifting just a bit higher…

It’s easy to blame the touchiness on the alcohol the next morning and strictly maintain your professional distance as you hand him paperwork to sign in your office. You smirk when you catch his eyes in a passing mirror, glued to your ass through another tight lace dress as you walk away in Louboutin stilettos. Max was very much an ass man - that is, when he wasn’t being a tits man. You certainly had no qualms showing off your thick curves to him, knowing you had a lot more to offer than his girlfriend. It was impossible to miss the way his blue eyes would drift towards your tempting body whenever he thought no one was looking.

So next weekend, you invite him onto your boat for a day trip. It’s much smaller than his personal multi level yacht, but perfect for what you had planned. It’s a nice touch to have all your coupled up friends with you, who disappear off to various rooms in the boat as the sun gets hotter and they get drunker. You hand Max another strong G&T you’ve mixed yourself, now just alone on the top deck with him. He takes it easily, telling you you’d make a deadly bartender. You hmm, resting a knee on the couch he sits on. It’s a manoeuvre that brings your bouncing tits, barely covered in a white skimpy bikini, right into his eyeline. Max takes one look at your nipples pebbling through the fabric, gulps cutely, and promptly drains the glass in his hand.

You try to contain the smile on your glossed lips as he tries and fails to look away from your tits in his face, stammering out responses to idle chit chat you’re making. It’s adorable how his confident, dominating personality switches so fast off the track with you. At one point you say you’re sorry that his girlfriend couldn’t make it (you aren’t - you’d planned the getaway on a day you knew she had a modelling gig booked, of course, since you’re the one who’d pulled strings to set up the photoshoot). Relaxed with all the G&Ts, Max mentions that actually, his girlfriend had been very persistent in trying to stop him coming today.

Oh? You say with faux innocence, tilting your head and widening your doe eyes with worry. Why? She doesn’t like me? Max rushes to soothe your worries, saying no, no, it was more that - well, I think she’s a bit jealous…you’re very beautiful, after all. I think I might just need to spend more time with her from now on. You laugh at his cute blush, telling him Of course, but she had nothing to worry about, after all she was the model and not you!

You know how to play the game, knew that despite his model girlfriend at his side, you had him practically drooling in your tiny white bikini, contrasting beautifully against your tan skin. But he had to be the one to cross the line first, and think it was all his idea. Especially if his bitchy girlfriend was starting to catch onto your plans and demanding Max stay with her. So you walk away, making sure to sway your hips so he can enjoy the view of your ass as you lay on your tummy to sweetly ask your cute lifeguard if he’d mind putting sunscreen on your back?

Your lifeguard jumps at the chance, having already been checking you out all day. He’s taking the bottle and raking his eyes over your form hungrily - but Max interrupts even sooner than you’d predicted. His love language being physical touch works in your favour. You hide your pleased smile as a deep Dutch voice heatedly says that he can do it, and you turn to see Max glaring at the lifeguard with all the intensity of a lion. Are you sure you don’t mind, Max? You say sweetly, blinking your thick lashes up at him from your compromising position, your head right at the level of his hips. You hope he’s thinking the same naughty thoughts as you when his blue gaze darkens. That it would be so easy to slide his thick fingers past your pouting lips and hold them open as he messily fucks your all too willing mouth. You bite your bottom lip at the filthy idea.

You see him swallow, Adam’s apple bobbing in that huge muscled neck of his. No, it’s okay! That lifeguard…well, I don’t want him putting his hands on you. God, you couldn’t wait to lick hickeys all up and down his broad shoulders before wrapping your thighs around them as he ate you out. But you’re getting ahead of yourself, coming back to the present as you lie down to let Max touch up your sunscreen. His large palms are tentative at first, trying to remain respectful within the boundaries of friendship. But when you’re softly sighing, moaning that it feels so good, Maxie, work has made my back way to tense, could you use one of those massage techniques your physio taught you? it’s impossible for him to not go a little further. Your tiny bikini easily lets him explore your body, his strong hands gripping your plush hips and giving him a naughty mental picture of what you’d look like if he took you from the back. You’re glad your sunglasses are extra dark so you can peek at his trunks, enjoying the rapidly hardening large bulge there, responding to all the cute little moans and gasps you’re letting out as you tremble under his touch.

You decide to tease him a bit more, reaching behind your neck to untie your string bikini, shyly saying you didn’t want to get tan lines…he didn’t mind, right? You can totally go ask the lifeguard to help!

Max’s mouth goes dry at the sight of your bare back as he dazedly shakes his head, huskily saying he was happy to help, you’re his friend after all. All the blood rushed straight from his brain to his cock to make his decision as he feels the lush swell of your tits from the side when they generously slip out. You celebrate your victory internally when he shyly asks if he could take off your bikini bottoms so you didn’t get tan lines there, too?

You hesitate, coquettishly blinking and asking him if his girlfriend would be mad? Max pauses with your reminder, his large hands spread over your juicy asscheeks as he resists the urge to squeeze them. Your plan falls right into place as you cheekily suggest that surely it would be okay if he closed his eyes, just for a second, you really didn’t want tan lines there after all-

That was all Max needed to hear before he eagerly nodded, looking the picture of an overexcited puppy. This time you can’t resist your smirk as your slowly untie your bottoms, jiggling your ass as you slide them down so he catches a glimpse of the tempting flesh before he remembers to close his eyes. His large, calloused palms run down your plump ass, unable to resist squeezing roughly and making you moan sexily. You part your legs invitingly, and when those thick fingers of his brush against your pussy you know he can feel how wet you are for him. So dripping wet, that one of his fingers easily slides against your warm pussy lips. Max, you gasp breathily, your entrance instinctively clenching around the tip of his thick finger. What are you- Oh! Desire rushes straight to his groin as he gets a feel of how tight your sweet cunny would feel squeezing down on something else thick of his and he can’t help but sink his finger all the way in. It takes him longer than it should to come to his senses and move his hand away, stammering out apologies that he hadn’t meant to touch you there, his hand just slipped, could you forgive him?

To his relief, you giggle at his flushed face, turning around to meet his embarrassed gaze. Don’t worry about it, accidents happen! you say playfully, as if you hadn’t planned this, tying your bikini back up slowly. As he watches you strut away confidently in your little heeled sandals, he can’t resist tasting the wetness you’d left all over his fingers. He almost cums in his trunks from how sweet you taste, and hastily returns to his room. You smirk when you press an ear to your bedroom wall, hearing the shower running in Max’s bathroom right next door. Sadly for you, you can’t hear anything over the sound of the shower, leaving you pouting and pussy aching from the memory of Max’s hands on you.

But just on the other side, a certain blonde Dutchman is giving into his growing taboo desires. It’s not the first time he’s jerked off to you - no, with all the frequent teasing glimpses of your plush cleavage or your ass in tight dresses, he’s regularly mentally drooling over you. He knows it’s wrong, and in the beginning he did feel guilty…but now only the thought of your sexy little body that can get him hard like this. Tipping his head back and letting the cool water flow down his abs, Max slowly jerks off his impressive erection as he fantasies about you shaking and cutely moaning underneath him. Your lush tits spilling out from the sides, your wide hips that would be the perfect thing for him to hold tightly as he fucked you in doggystyle, his favourite. And now he knew what your soft tanned skin felt like, how sweet and wet your cunny was for him….well, it’s enough to make him addicted. He’s cumming within seconds, biting his lips and imagining how good it would feel to bury his aching cock inside your cunny instead of his finger next time.

He still blushes cutely when he sees you next, at a friend’s party, but you’re as nonchalant as ever, greeting him with a sweet kiss on his cheek. He watches you laugh at something one of his guy friends are saying and can’t stop the jealousy swirling in his chest, even when his girlfriend tugs on his arm to get him his attention all night.

Of course, you’re playing the long game. It didn’t matter how many men you flirted with - there was only one who you truly wanted. So for one of the exclusive Halloween parties in Monaco, you discreetly organise one of the big fashion houses you represent to send Max’s girlfriend a haute couture costume. She accepts it, spamming her Insta story with pics of it, just like you’d expected. You’re certain she would show up to the event with a reluctant Max in tow.

And on that night of the Halloween party, you smile as you spot a bored looking Max across the living room of the mansion the party is hosted at. His gorgeous blue eyes widen as he spots you…dressed in the same costume as his girlfriend. But you’d had some customised alterations made, looking ethereal in your white angel costume, tits pushed up with a corset and soft tummy and hips on display in your low waisted miniskirt. Max is far from the only guy who stared at you hungrily as you entered - including your date, some Russian model you’d met at a PR event, dressed just like Max in a tight fitting shirt and a Ghostface mask that hid his identity when on.

Someone might just call your choice of couple’s costume a random coincidence, but you didn’t make mistakes like that. Your date had two jobs tonight - one which he’d already done successfully, as you see Max’s icy blue gaze glaring at the hand around your waist. You whisper in your date’s ear, parting ways for now, because he had another mission to go complete that you’d already asked him to do for you as a favour. Namely, keeping Max’s goldigging girlfriend occupied tonight. And since your date happened to inherit his father’s multimillion manufacturing business, you were sure Max’s girlfriend would be throughly enraptured by him.

You laugh and mingle with friends throughout the night, catching Max’s intense gaze on you a few times but pretending to ignore it. He’s finally had enough of seeing you flirt with other guys when you end up on the dancefloor. You shiver as you feel his strong, muscled body behind you, shielding you from any guy who tries to get close to you. That’s fine with you, because the only one you wanted to grind back against was Max after all. So you toss your hair, getting lost in the music and tipsily giggling, enjoying the low rumble in Max’s chest as your fat ass teases his hardening bulge. His large palms settle possessively over your hips, leaning down to smell your sweet vanilla perfume. He lets you drag him into a quiet, dark corner, giggling and pressing your soft body against his as you whisper he looked so hot tonight, his biceps looked amazing, had he been working out more?

And then your doe eyes, prettily outlined in glittery eyeshadow and eyeliner, look up from his muscular chest to meet his piercing blue eyes as he pulls his mask off. You gasp, widening your eyes in supposed shock as you blush and stammer that you’re so sorry Max, you’d thought he was your date, he’s dressed the same after all…

He’s disappointed, of course, missing the touch of your manicured fingers running up and down his abs. He ends up agreeing to help you find your date again after you look at him pleadingly, although the idea of letting another guy put his hands on you makes him want to unleash Mad Max. But when you two finally find your date, behind a closed bedroom door upstairs, you see he’s been kept very good company by none other than Max’s girlfriend.

Your hands fly to your mouth in pretend shock at the scene of your date with his balls deep inside the gold digging girlfriend, her artificial sounding moans radiating around the room. Your date had exceeded your expectations and kept her very well occupied, it seemed. Max is disgusted with the sight, snarling in anger and moving to block your view of your date cheating on you. He’s so sweet, really, being so protective of you when you’d executed the whole plan to perfection. You hear his girlfriend exclaim in shock, trying to plead that it wasn’t what it looked like…but you’d given the Dutchman the final excuse to call it off. Don’t ever fucking come near me or her again, he growls, his voice radiating confidence and authority in a way which makes you squeal internally.

To your delight, Max insists on taking you home, worried about how you’d feel after finding your date cheating on you…with his backstabbing ex girlfriend, he mutters darkly. He’s fuming at her betrayal, but as you lead him into your cozy apartment you’re already planning your next scheme. When he asks you gently if you’re sure you’re ok, is there anything he could do to help, he’s so sorry that his ex got involved with your personal life like this you sweetly nod and tell him you just wanted to take your mind off it all.

He’s eager to help you, nodding enthusiastically when you ask if he’d help plan your costume for your next Halloween event the following night? Your date would no longer be helping you, after all. Of course, schat, anything you want he says earnestly, pretty blue eyes looking at you with adoration as you pout. Handing him a glass of whiskey to sip on while you guide him to sit on the end of your bed, you sashay into your walk in closet. You make sure to leave the door half open, so Max gets a full view of the red lingerie you’re wearing underneath your costume. You take your time getting ready, bending over to pull on your outfit and shaking your hips enticingly, making sure to give Max a naughty show. And if the angel costume had been sexy, the schoolgirl outfit you put on next is positively scandalous. You shyly walk out in heels and a tiny pleated skirt, skimpy white top tied around your breasts to push them out even more as you twirl for him. What do you think? you ask anxiously when Max just stares without saying anything. It looks bad, doesn’t it-

He hastily denies your words, stumbling out that you looked gorgeous, you always did, you didn’t have anything to worry about.

When you giggle happily and announce that you had a few more to show him, he licks his lips in anticipation and drains more of the whiskey from his glass. You give him another slow striptease through your closet door, this time taking off your bra so he gets a flash of your hard nipples. You see him widen his legs to accomodate the raging erection hanging in between his thick thighs and have to stop yourself drooling at the delicious sight. But Max is the one controlling himself next when you emerge in a cat costume, all black latex booty shorts and tight corset, paired with kitten ears and a tail.

His jaw drops open at the tempting sight, and when you ask him if he thinks it’s cute enough to make your date regret cheating on you he clenches his jaw and growls that the pathetic bastard didn’t deserve the privilege of seeing you all dressed up like this.

You try and fail to hide your coy smile at Max’s jealous words, and then find yourself pulled forward in between his legs as he murmurs that there were plenty of other ways to get back at your date. Oh? You say breathlessly, sinking onto your plush ass to sit in between his spread thighs, resting your cheek against his leg. Like what, Maxie?

He groans at the temptation in front of him, of your glossed pouting lips right next to where he needed you the most. You’re not behaving like a good kitty, he jokes, but his voice is rough as desire swirls in his eyes. You’re teasing me far too much while thinking about some guy nowhere near my level.

You grin like a Cheshire and slowly get on all fours, swaying your ass in the air and nuzzling your face right up against his bulging erection. Am I still a bad girl now? you whisper, flicking your tongue out to lick his zipper sluttily. Shall I make it up to you? Max groans above you, thick neck flexing as he tangles a large palm into your hair. Schatje, he says breathlessly, as you slowly unzip his jeans, squealing in delight as his fat cock emerges to slap against your cheeks. So big, Maxie you croon, going cross eyed as you place kitten licks all along his engorged cockhead. What did I say about teasing me? Max groans above you, applying delicious pressure to the back of your head as he pushes your lips down onto his shaft. Mmfh! Your moans are muffled as he loses control, fucking your mouth without abandon. Pleased moans fill the air as you drool over his length, letting him throat fuck you and use you for his pleasure. Your pink lip gloss is smeared all over his cock as your eyes roll back in your head, one of your hands reaching down to play with your aching cunny as Max leaves bruises in the back of your mouth.

Weeks of sexual tension finally lead to him cumming in your throat, so far down that you swear you can fill him hit your tummy, and you obediently suck up every last drop. He’s so far from done, though. He wants you on your hands and knees, his strong hands ripping a hole into your slutty latex shorts to hungrily taste your sweet pussy again. Soon enough your bedroom is filled with obscene sounds of Max fucking his bare cock into your cunny, pounding into you from behind. It’s even hotter than his dirtiest fantasies, and he’s making you tremble and scream his name as he presses down on your neck, burying your face into the sheets and whispering filthy praise in your ear. You’re so pleased you’d thought to set up a tiny camera by your nightstand, capturing every second of your first fuck with Max so you can enjoy it later. Your pussy squeezes around his length like a vice, and it’s most euphoric feeling he’s experienced in his life. He’s cumming again within minutes, moaning how good you feel, he fucking loves your cunt, loves you and takes you over the edge with him as he gives you an open mouthed kiss.

You smile contentedly against his warm lips, letting him slide his tongue into your mouth. Your red manicured nails tangle possessively in soft blonde locks as you sigh into the passionate make out. Max was exactly where he belonged, finally - in your bed, with you in his arms.

And unlike the silly women who’d taken him for granted, you were never going to let him go.

—————————————————————————

A/N: thank you soooo much for ur patience my dear readers, I fear I was getting a bit of writers block seeing all the photos of max and Kelly in the holiday season 😭😭😭 I hope u guys enjoy this piece!! Send me lots of ur raunchy asks plz I need inspiration ♥️♥️

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen #max verstappen smut #f1 imagine #f1 smut #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #max verstappen x you #18+ mdni #mv1 x reader #mv1 imagine

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inwithrin · 1 month ago

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ᓚ₍⑅^..^₎♡ abby buys you a drink

you’ve been so stressed lately that when your friends suggested going out, you barely hesitated before saying yes. at the bar, you’re not drunk, just warm in the face and life seems good now.

your friends are scattered—two in the bathroom, one batting her eyelashes at a man to get free drinks, the rest at your table giggling and dancing. one of them said something like, “we should go together,” but you were already halfway to the bar, so you just waved her off.

you weren’t trying to make a scene. you were only trying to get another drink, but you didn’t see her until it was too late, you turned a little too fast, stumbled a step, and—thud.

you collide, chest to chest, with someone. if it were a guy, you’d roll your eyes, maybe mumble "sorry," and move on. but it’s not. it’s a girl. a tall, broad-shouldered girl, clawed in a black t-shirt that clings to her muscles and a jacket atop, her dirty-blonde hair pulled back. she’s beautiful in a way that makes your brain shut off for a moment as her strong hands catch your arms to steady you.

you pull back fast. "shit, i’m sorry—i’m so sorry," you stammer, trying to recoil from the embarrassment.

but her hands stay firm on your arms. “hey,” she says, kind and patient, like she’s used to dealing with idiots. “you okay?”

her voice goes right through you. you blink up at her, mortified. “yeah, i’m okay—sorry,” again, you try to take a step back but trip a little over your own feet—dignity thoroughly obliterated.

she moves without hesitation, steadying you like you're hers to catch. “slow down, there’s no rush,” she says, almost amused, “i got you.”

you can smell her cologne. her hands are still on your arms. you’re practically sober now, and yet somehow your brain is even more useless. you want to melt. you want to scream. you want to time-travel five minutes into the past to save you from this. but you’re here, held in the hands of the hottest woman you’ve ever seen—who is looking at you with curious eyes.

she guides you gently toward the bar. “you sure you don’t need to sit down?” she asks, a hint of an amused grin tugging at her mouth. you shake your head—but she raises a hand, gesturing to the bartender with confidence. “a whiskey, on the rocks. please,” she says, glancing down at you. “and whatever pretty wants.”

whatever pretty wants. as in—you. you’re pretty. she said it like a name.

“a strawberry mojito, please,” you manage to mumble. it was something safe and familiar.

the bartender nods and starts on both drinks. when you look back at her, she’s already watching you. openly. leaning on the bar like she has all the time in the world. like she enjoys how stupidly flustered you are.

“my name’s abby,” she says, and it sounds so good in her voice—but maybe better in yours. she holds your gaze. “you got one, or should i keep calling you pretty?”

you forget how to breathe. you’re sure your friends are watching. you’re sure your soul just left your body. “i—” you try, and fail, and try again, finally mumbling out your name. you cover your face with both hands. “sorry—”

she chuckles, leaning in enough that her shoulder brushes yours. “relax,” she murmurs, clearly enjoying this. “you already fell for me once tonight.”

abby slides your drink in front of you and leans in just a little closer, you feel your heart race all over again.

her voice is softer now, more sincere somehow, and it sends a shiver straight down your spine. “so, pretty—i’m going to be forward,” she says, the nickname rolling off her tongue easily. “how about you give me your number, hm?”

your breath catches, and your mind is a scrambled mess of thoughts, none of them helpful. but she’s looking at you like you’re the only person in the room. you fumble as you grab your phone, your hands shaking a little, but she’s quick to help you, guiding your hand with an ease that makes your heart flutter.

before you can even open your contacts, she’s already offering you her jacket—thinking you were cold. “it’s cold, right?” she says, voice unhurried. her hands are gentle as she drapes it over your shoulders. “take this.”

you blink at her, as you give her your phone. you fix the jacket over your body as she types. she rings her phone from yours, the little jingle of her now added contact lighting up your screen.

“there,” she says, giving you your phone back. “now we both have it, see? easy.”

you can’t stop staring at her. at how she holds herself with such quiet confidence. “thank you,” you whisper, your voice barely above a breath.

abby gives you a small, knowing smile, like she’s pleased with how easily you let her in. she takes a step back, her gaze sweeping over you as you grab your drink from the counter, taking a big sip.

“i’ll buy you the next one,” you say, your voice a little firmer now. “for being such a mess earlier.”

abby raises an eyebrow, she mimics you by taking a slow sip of her whiskey, like she’s savoring the moment, or you. she shakes her head, her hand reaching out to touch your wrist.

“no,” she mutters. “it’s my pleasure, pretty. you’ve already given me your time, and it’s not often i get the chance to do something nice for someone like you.”

and just like that, she’s completely disarmed you. you want to protest, want to say something in return, but the way she looks at you makes you too charmed to argue.

“okay,” you whisper, a little breathless. “next time, it’s on me.”

abby nods. “next time,” she repeats.

#the last of us #tlou #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader

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staratinia · 3 months ago

Text

Drifting

This work contains smut - minors do not interact

Pairing: Fem!reader x L

Synopsis: L hears you dreaming about him.

Warnings: Explicit Smut

wc: 2.7k

____________________________________________________

L’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, unmoving. He was staring at the screen, but not seeing it. The code could have been blank, for all the good it was doing him now. Numbers, words, leads—they floated past without sticking.

Because you were on the couch again. Sleeping. Too softly.

A blanket clung low to your hips, having slipped during the night. One bare leg was curled over the armrest, the other folded under you, and your tank top had twisted—one strap sliding off your shoulder, leaving the delicate slope of it exposed in the dim blue monitor light.

L had told himself not to look. He never listened. His knees were pulled up to his chest, toes barely brushing the chair cushion, thumb at his mouth—except he hadn’t bitten it in almost half an hour. Your breathing had changed.

He noticed it right away. Of course he did. It was slower now, then quicker. A sigh. Another. A soft little exhale that was just slightly different from the ones before. You shifted—twitched. Then murmured something.

His head tilted, just slightly. Then again. This time, he heard it.

“L…”

So quiet. He blinked once. Twice. You didn’t move again. Just lay there, lashes fluttering faintly, mouth open on another sigh. And then— “Feels so warm… wish you’d…”

The rest trailed off. But L was already frozen. Not out of fear- out of calculation. Because you were asleep. And you were talking about him. And something inside him—something low and old and deeply unprofessional—stirred.

He stood. Padded across the floor in silence. Each step measured, quiet, like he was approaching a crime scene. And maybe he was. Because what he found on that couch was dangerous.

You looked so soft like this- so unguarded. Your fingers were tucked beneath your cheek, hair sticking to your forehead, legs tangled in the blanket like you’d fought a dream and lost. And your lips? Still parted. Still warm with the echo of his name. He crouched beside the couch. “You’re dreaming about me..” he murmured lowly, not sure why he said it out loud.

And then—your eyes opened. Just barely. Glazed. Tired. But aware. You blinked up at him. Didn’t flinch- Didn’t move.

He swallowed. “You said my name.”

You glanced away. “Dreaming.”

“You sounded…” he hesitated, then let it hang.

There was a silence between you. Heavy, but not uncomfortable. Just honest.

Then- “You could’ve kept working.”

“I didn’t want to.”

That pulled your gaze back to him. That tiny truth hanging in the air between you now. You stared at him. His face in shadow. His mouth slightly open. The soft twitch of nerves behind his eyes. His eyes dragged down to your mouth..then back up.

And something shifted in the room. That tight tension that had always hummed beneath the surface between you? It cracked. Split open. Filled the space like heat rising off a slow boil.

“What are we doing?” you asked quietly.

“I should go back to my chair,” he murmured.

“You should..” you said looking at his lips as he spoke.

But neither of you moved.

Your hand slid from beneath your cheek—reached, hesitated—then rested lightly on his wrist. His breath caught again. He leaned forward. It wasn’t a kiss, at first. Just a brush. A test. A ghost of contact from his lips to yours, soft as starlight. You whispered his name again into that almost-kiss. He gave in.

The second kiss was fuller. Warmer. A pull of lips, a sigh, his hand curling over your waist as he braced himself against the couch with the other. Your fingers slipped into his hair. And he moaned. Quiet. Wrecked. Like he didn’t know he could make that sound.

And when you shifted beneath him, arching just enough that his body slipped between your legs, both of you breathless from just the kiss—he looked down at you like you were unquantifiable. And whispered: “I don’t want to stop this.” You pulled him in again.

His body trembled as he kissed you again, slower this time—like he wanted to make sure every second sank into memory. Like he wanted to feel everything and file it away, a new puzzle only he could solve. His mouth fit over yours like he’d done it a thousand times in secret, in thought, in daydreams he’d never admit to. But now? With your hands in his hair, your thigh brushing against his hip, your lips parting for him—

Now he knew. Kissing you wasn’t hypothetical. It was real.

He sank further into the space between your legs, one hand braced beside your head, the other sliding up your side, careful, reverent, asking permission without a single word. When his palm settled just beneath your breast, your breath caught, and he froze—

Until you whispered, barely audible: “Yes.”

That one word made him shudder. He lowered his mouth to your throat, to the hollow just beneath your jaw, and kissed you there—slow, deliberate, like he wanted to test what your pulse did under his tongue. And God, when he felt it jump? He smiled against your skin.

“You’re warm,” he murmured. “And very… responsive.”

His fingers moved slowly, skimming under your shirt, dragging it higher. He didn’t push. Didn’t rush. But when you lifted your arms to help, he pulled the shirt off in one fluid motion and stared. You watched his throat move as he swallowed. His eyes dragged over your skin—slow, serious, like he was collecting data with each breath. But it wasn’t impersonal.

It was fascinated. Awed. “May I…” His voice trailed off. You reached for his hand and guided it to your breast. He exhaled like he’d been holding it since he woke up three days ago. His palm was warm and trembling slightly as he cupped you, thumb brushing across your nipple like he was trying to gauge the exact response. You gasped, body arching slightly beneath him, and he bit his lip, hard.

He leaned in and kissed your chest—soft, then deeper, lips parting, tongue flicking just enough to make your back arch again. His breath hitched against your skin. “I like the way you react to me,” he whispered.

You let out a shaky laugh, and he looked up at you, that strange, rare softness in his eyes—like he wasn’t used to being wanted this way. Like having you under him, letting him touch you like this, meant more than either of you could say out loud.

Then he pulled back—just slightly. Hands sliding down your sides. Hooking into the waistband of your shorts. “May I continue?” God. The way he said it. So careful. So respectful. So fucking desperate to make sure it was right. You lifted your hips for him- That was all the answer he needed.

He peeled them down slow—dragging your underwear with them—eyes fixed on your skin as it was revealed, every inch of you exposed like a secret he’d waited months to unlock. And when he saw you—all of you—he went completely still. Like he couldn’t process how real it was. How perfect. How soaked you were.

He let out a soft, shaky breath. “I’ve imagined you like this,” he whispered. “I didn’t think the reality would be so…” Another pause. “..much better.” Then he lowered himself between your thighs. You reached for him, thinking he might kiss you again, but instead—

His mouth pressed gently to your inner thigh. Then higher. And higher. Soft lips. Hot breath. Reverent devotion. He kissed the spot just beside where you ached for him. And looked up at you.

“You said my name in your sleep,” he said quietly. “You were dreaming about this,” he said. “About me.” Then he dipped his head. And kissed you down there like it was the answer to every unsolvable problem. His tongue was careful at first—exploratory. Slow strokes, like he was testing how you tasted, how your body responded to every flick and press. You gasped. Your hands clenched the couch cushions. Your hips rose—and he held them down gently, strong hands gripping your thighs as he continued.

And then?

He moaned against you. Soft. Desperate. Like your taste was addictive. Like you were addictive. And when his tongue circled your clit, slow and perfect, your whole body jerked and he grinned—that tiny, maddening smile you’d only ever seen when he cracked a case wide open.

“There,” he murmured. “That’s where you fall apart, isn’t it?”

You could barely breathe. He flattened his tongue and licked you long and slow, then again, then sucked, and you nearly sobbed. “L—!” He didn’t stop.

His fingers joined his mouth—two of them pressing inside, slow but steady, curling upward just enough to make you cry out. And with his lips wrapped around your clit, his fingers inside you, and his eyes locked to your face, it was— Too much. You came hard.

Arching off the couch. Crying his name. Grinding into his mouth like you’d die if he stopped. And he still didn’t stop. Not until you were shaking. Not until you were begging. Not until he was certain you’d given him everything. Only then did he pull back—mouth glistening, eyes dark, and voice wrecked as he said—

“That was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever witnessed.”

And when you pulled him up and kissed him again—tasting yourself on his tongue, moaning into his mouth— You knew this wasn’t a dream. And he’d never let you fall asleep on that couch again.

You pulled him into you—his body long and warm and trembling, arms bracketing either side of your head as your mouths met again, slow and thirsty, like both of you needed more but neither dared break the rhythm. He kissed like he thought it might vanish. Like if he didn’t memorize every second, he might wake up alone at the desk again, monitors glowing cold and blue, hands empty. He didn’t speak now. He didn’t analyze. He just felt.

You ran your hands over his back, underneath the loose shirt he always wore too large, finding heat beneath skin, shoulder blades tight with years of tension. He gasped softly into your mouth when your fingertips grazed the dip of his spine. “You’re shaking,” you whispered.

He nodded. His voice was barely there. “You overwhelm me.”

You smiled, brushing his hair back, thumb sliding gently along his cheekbone. “Is that a problem?”

“No.” He looked at you then. That look—the one that made people confess their darkest truths without meaning to. But this time, there was no calculation in it.

You kissed him again, and his hips dipped—tentative, instinctive, and completely involuntary—his clothed cock brushing your thigh, and you both gasped.

The contact stunned him. Your fingers reached for the waistband of his pants. "Let me help."

He froze—like prey—but didn't stop you. Just watched, as your fingers worked the button loose, as you tugged the fabric down, inch by inch. You felt him twitch when your palm brushed against him—hard, heavy, flushed against his stomach, the softest breath falling from his lips. He didn’t look away.

You wrapped your hand around him slowly—just once, just to feel how much he'd been holding back—and the noise he made was guttural, quiet and deep in his chest, something pulled out of him against his will.

“You shouldn’t…” he whispered, shaking. “If you keep touching me like that, I won’t be able to last.”

“That’s fine.”

His breath stuttered. And then he kissed you again—harder, deeper, needy now, hips grinding into your palm as you stroked him. You felt how much it hurt to be touched this softly, how fast it was building in him, how desperate he’d been, how long he’d imagined this exact pressure, this angle, this you.

“You… should be on top,” he breathed, a tremor behind the words. “You should… have control.”

You spoke- “I want you to have it.”

He groaned—almost whimpered. And that was it. His fingers were trembling. Not visibly, not in a way anyone else would notice—but you felt it. Where his hand gripped your thigh, holding you open for him. Where his mouth met your skin, slow, distracted, tasting, stalling.

Because L could work a 72-hour case without blinking. He could cut into a murderer’s psyche like it was cake. But sliding his cock into someone who actually wanted him?

He wasn’t built for that.

Your legs were around his waist, ankles crossed at his lower back. You were half beneath him, half guiding him, your hand around the base of his cock—hot, flushed, twitching—and he was watching your face like he was waiting for you to change your mind.

You didn’t.

So he pushed in. Slow. Cautious. Not performative, not practiced—just careful. You exhaled hard. He caught it. “Too much?”

You shook your head. “No. Just—keep going.”

He pressed in deeper, inch by inch, until he bottomed out, hips flush with yours, breath shaky in your ear. His body was warm and tight, muscles coiled like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to relax. You tightened around him instinctively. He choked on a breath.

“Fuck,” he whispered. Quiet. Shocked. “You're warm.”

You almost laughed. But you didn’t. His voice had weight now. Like he meant it more than he could explain. You ran your fingers through his hair—messy, sweat-damp at the edges—and leaned in, mouth grazing his jaw. “Move, L.”

And he did. Tentative at first—like he wasn’t sure what rhythm to use, what you needed. Then deeper. More certain.

You gasped. He reacted instantly. Changed angle. Tried again. Data. Feedback. Adapt. And then it started to feel less like a pattern and more like him.

He kissed you while he fucked you. Soft, panting kisses between every thrust, like he couldn’t stop needing your mouth, your breath, your voice. His hands gripped your hips, but not to hold you down—to steady himself.

He started moving faster—messier—his rhythm breaking apart under the weight of it. The sound of skin on skin, of gasping breath, of your moans tangled in his name filled the room in place of code, keys, and cold calculation.

He was getting lost in it now—his hand gripping the couch cushion beside your head, the other on your hip, pulling you down against him as he thrust. Not fast. Not rough. Just focused. He was watching you. The way your breath hitched. The way your mouth fell open when he bottomed out. And when you grabbed his wrist and pinned it above your head, he let you. Didn’t fight. Didn’t even blink.

“You’re not in control right now,” you breathed against his neck.

He groaned. Low. Hoarse. Frustrated. “I know.”

You smiled. And then he fucked into you a little harder. Rhythm shifting. Deliberate.

“I still know where to put it.” His voice was different now. Still even. Still calm. But rougher. Like it was unraveling in real time.

Your body rolled into his—meeting him now, hips arching, thighs shaking with every thrust, and suddenly it wasn’t careful anymore. It was necessary. No confessions. No poetic declarations. Just breath. Teeth. Heat.

His face hovered over yours, dark hair falling in his eyes, mouth slightly open, gasping quietly every time he bottomed out. “You’re… close,” he muttered. Almost to himself.

You were. His fingers moved—between your thighs now, rubbing, circling, slick with your wetness and his own restraint finally cracking.

“L—fuck—don’t stop—”

“I’m not going to.”

Your orgasm hit hard. No fireworks. No screaming. Just your body locking up, your breath breaking, thighs twitching as you clenched around him, and he felt all of it. And he came right after. Head dropped to your neck. Body shivering. Not loud. Not perfect. Just real.

The sound of his breathing, the wet grind of his hips slowing, the way his hand stayed pressed to your thigh like he couldn’t bear to stop touching you.

You both lay there, tangled, sweat-slick, still joined. And he didn’t say a word. Didn’t have to. Because when he finally pulled back—soft, slow, careful—and looked at you? There was no question in his eyes. Just fact.

Just you. And what you’d done to him.

While the monitors behind you kept flashing cold data to an empty desk—

#death note #death note smut #death note x reader #l death note #death note l x reader #l lawliet x reader #l lawliet #death note imagine #death note l #l lawliet smut #death note l smut #deathnote

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angelicjackles · 4 months ago

Text

— [ riding Sam in a confessional box ]

"Sweetheart.. you can't be serious." He began, trying to deter you from the thoughts he could practically see dancing around that pretty little devious mind of yours. Already knowing it was too late, the thoughts had taken root, he'd seen it from the moment the two of you changed this morning. Seen the way your eyes lingered for just a fraction too long. Oh no.

You were on a case together, just the two of you. No Dean since it seemed like a pretty standard ghost that seemed to be targetting the parish of a church, simple. You and Sam could handle it by yourselves - which Dean was more than happy to allow because it meant he didn't have to do the whole priest dress-up, which he hated. And it meant he didn't have to third-wheel the pair of you, even better.

Sam, however, looked so fucking good in the priest collar that admittedly you were... distracted. You'd been good though and only allowed yourself to get distracted once the case was over. You deserved some credit, and perhaps a little treat. Right?

Seeing how he looked, how composed and pure was doing a number on you. It had your pussy clenching around nothing. Those eyes of yours were hungry and Sam was all too aware of the mental undressing going down every time those pretty eyes of yours roved over his form.

It didn't take long for you to catch his hand and drag him into the emotional confessional box. It was later into the evening, so there was nobody around, for right now. But the church was still open to the public for a few more hours.

Before he knew it he was all but shoved into the confessional box, his ass making contact with the hard, wooden bench seat as you followed him inside, the door closing behind the pair of you as you settled yourself in his lap.

His mind was swimming as you fumbled about with clothing, the sound of rustling fabric surprisingly loud in the otherwise quiet confessional. He didn't get a chance to protest as he felt your fingers curl around his cock and free him from his pants, making him hiss softly.

"Honey-" He protested, getting cut off as you sank your weight down onto him, your warmth enveloping him completely as you took his entire length in one fluid motion. Watching the way your eyes fluttered in response had him twitching inside you. Dirty girl... His dirty girl.

"You're going to get us- mmph.. caught, baby.." He struggled to stay composed, the way your fluttering walls were clenching around him like a vice, he had to grit his teeth to keep from groaning out as your hips rocked and grinded in a steady motion, riding him like it was your last night on earth, fingers gripping his broad shoulders for support.

He had to be quiet, so quiet. He had to be.

Your fingers gripped his broad shoulders for support and all he could do is toss his head back and try to breathe as you took what you wanted, using his body for your own pleasure.

Your body jolted when his thumb suddenly made contact with your little bundle of nerves, a grunt fell from his lips at the way you clenched around him in response. "There you go, there you go... There's my girl." He whispered thickly as his thumb rubbed your clit with enough pressure to make that coil of warmth pool low in your belly.

With Sam's other hand gripping your hip like it was the only thing keeping him grounded, your body had a mind of its own and before long the telltale signs became unspokenly apparent.

The way he twitched and his breathing stuttered, and the way your walls fluttered as your movements became erratic, like chasing a high you were afraid would elude you. It didn't take long before Sam's hips slammed up into you almost painfully and he had to bury his face into the warmth of your neck to silence himself as he painted your insides pearly white — which was all it took to have your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave, erupting around him, thighs trembling on either side of him as your nails bit into his shoulders, no doubt leaving crescent shaped nail makes through the fabric of his black shirt.

"Forgive me Father for I have sinned.." was the last thing Sam heard giggled from your lips before the distant sound of footsteps was enough to have the pair of you scrambling to sort yourselves out and hightail it out of the confessional hand-in-hand before you got caught committing a sin that might not be so easily forgiven.

#sam winchester #sam winchester smut #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester drabble #sam winchester x female reader #supernatural x reader #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester x you #spn #supernatural #supernatural one shot

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monstersholygrail · 5 months ago

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When Demon Priest saw you, an adorable Lamb Hybrid, enter his church, he didn’t mistake you for an angel. How could he? With your cute little lamb ears and your short lamb tail. No, he knew you were a gift sent from the heavens straight away. A living messenger and connection between him and heaven. A gift meant for him. You were to be his, all his and only his.

It doesn’t take long for him to gain your trust. You’re such a sweet and gentle little lamb. So incredibly naive. Meant to be worshipped and adored. He spends all the time with you he can and when he’s not with you, he’s planning everything he must to take you far away from here. To protect you from danger and keep you all to himself.

He figures he just has to kidnap you and you’ll be safe to spread your word to all the lost lamb and sheep a part of his flock. You being their guiding light as you are his. Even if you don’t know it yet, he knows you’ll fill this role perfectly.

You have to. You’re his gift, after all.

Demon Priest actually leaves the church for you. So sure that they won’t understand, won’t see what he sees in you. He disappears with you into the night and takes you deep into the woods where anyone unwanted couldn’t find you and you couldn’t escape. With him, he brings your apostles. A few of his flock who trust him enough to know your importance and follow him anywhere.

They now all serve you, spreading the news of your arrival and guiding newcomers all to your divine light. Eventually their numbers grow too great and they have to start clearing trees and building tents for everyone to live in.

You are, of course, kept in the most lavish tent where you’re kept away from everyone else’s prying eyes. Only to be seen when guidance is needed. Demon Priest being the only one permitted entrance into your tent. There isn’t a moment where they’re not worshipped and adored.

At your beck and call, Demon Priest doesn’t hesitate to satisfy your every need. Every time you begin to question his intentions or dare to ask questions about some nonsense like going home, Demon Priest purrs in your ear, telling you that you don’t actually wanna leave him.

You’re just nervous but he’ll always be there for you. When everyone else has abandoned you, not even bothering to contact you, he’s stayed by your side. Not giving you any idea that he had taken your phone when you were asleep and blocked the numbers of everyone you cared about. He was all you needed.

He pushes you gently on the bed, sinking his cock into your warm slick walls to quiet the silly little voices in your head. Don’t worry, he’ll fuck em’ out of you. And make sure they stay out.

Your mewls are so pretty as he fucks you like the demon he is. He doesn’t bother trying to hide his demonic features he plunges his cock deep into your core. Growling and snarling, going feral over the way you feel wrapped around his length, suffocating him so brilliantly. Your pussy truly heavenly. Your back arches, meeting his thrusts as you scream and Demon Priest looks down at you in awe. Seeing his own ascension in your form.

“Oh, my sweet herald. The things you do to me, the things you’ll do for the world. F-feel so—mmph— f-fuuucking good,” Demon Priest rasps, groaning as your cunt flutters around his cock like it’s agreeing with him.

He exhales sharply and picks up his pace, rutting into you as if trying to consume you, become one with you. His features growing more demonic as he gets closer to the edge. He wraps a clawed hand around your throat, bringing you closer to him.

“What say you, love? You gonna stop questioning me and be my good little lamb?” He asks, spitting the word ‘lamb’ like a curse.

You whine, nodding as much as you can. Needing to cum so bad and you know he’s purposefully keeping you right on the edge until you agree.

“Then do as you’re told and cum.”

As if your body is truly at his command, the tight cord in your belly instantly snaps and your screaming as you clench around his length and cum harder than you ever have in your life. Your vision flashing white as your orgasm crashes through you. Demon Priest roars as he follows you over the edge, filling up your pussy with his hot semen.

Demon Priest sags against you, nuzzling into your throat and inhaling deeply. Finding deep satisfaction in how his scent nearly completely overpowers your own. Everyone will know you’re his. His claws massage the tremors from your sides but your body has him already getting hard again. He knows he’ll have to take you again soon. But now there’s work to be done.

“Come, precious lamb. Let us address your followers and make your next proclamation,” he murmurs sweetly in your ear. And you’re too fucked out to put up any resistance, his words being the only thing to fill up your empty mind.

For with you he’s no longer Demon Priest, but Demon Cult Leader.

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hannyoontify · 7 months ago

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seventeen '96 line as things that have made my heart flutter

warnings | smidge of jealousy during hoshi's

notes | source? erm possibly my own... experiences from the past..... ;;; not proofread

p.s. i recommend reading these as situationships/pre-relationships

95 line | 96 line | 97 line | maknae line

jun - a kiss on the cheek while taking pictures in a photo booth

“ooh this frame looks cute! do you wanna do this one?”

jun smiled at your energy. “whatever you want, bubs. i’m following your lead.”

he stood back as he watched you take the lead, clicking through the different settings of the photobooth. when you finished, you rushed over to his side with an excited smile. “okay, quick! there’s a timer and we have to finish within that time!”

the big, red number began to count down and the two of you stood against the wall. outstretching two fingers, you made posed for the camera and jun followed your example. the machine made a loud click sound as it took the first photo.

“again! okay, what pose should we do next? ooo! jun, grab the kitty hairbands!”

the next few snapshots were taken of you and jun posing with the kitty hairbands provided by the store. jun made a loud meow for one, making you burst into laughter, which the camera caught perfectly in time. jun, with his handsome face scrunched up mid-meow and you, your mouth wide open and your eyes closed as you laughed.

“eww! i hate that photo, we’re not choosing that one.” you said mid-giggle.

“why? it’s cute. i think it explains our dynamic perfectly,” jun grabbed you by the shoulder and tugged you closer to him. “okay, last one. cheese!”

the screen began counting down again and you leaned closer into jun’s shoulder, getting ready to pose for the camera again. as the number got closer to zero, jun glanced down at you, frozen still, waiting for the camera to take the last photo.

“4… 3… 2…. ” the robotic voice from the machine counted down.

taking a deep breath, jun closed his eyes shut and dipped his head. it was a quick kiss, so soft and gentle, like cloud resting on the peak of a mountain. brief moment of contact before drifting away.

jun’s lips felt soft against yours and you let a soft gasp. your jaw dropped in surprise as the camera flashed with another loud click.

your knees wobbled, as if gravity had suddenly shifted around you. there was tightening feeling in your chest as you looked over at jun. he looked at you with a gentle, apologetic smile.

“sorry, i should’ve asked.”

the world seemed to still, each beat of your heart pounding loudly against your chest. the way jun was looking at you sent a cascade of warmth spiraling through your entire body and you smiled.

“it’s okay… i liked it.”

hoshi - grabbing you by the belt loops of your jeans

you could feel someone’s heavy gaze set on you and you already knew whose set of eyes the stare belonged to. listening to your other friend talk about his chemistry lab with a really hot dude, you glanced over your shoulder and made instantly eye contact with soonyoung.

he was on the other side of the gym, his elbows resting on his legs as he watched you with an unreadable look in his eyes. deciding to be obnoxious, you stuck your tongue out at him and his lips tugged up into a tight grin, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes like they usually did.

“sorry, but i think one of the teachers are looking for me.” you dismissed yourself from the small circle of friends. your friends waved you good bye and turned back to resume their gossiping session where they were trying to decide whether the hot guy from one of their chemistry labs swung both ways.

you jogged across the gym, dodging equipment and other students and staff who were getting ready for the annual homecoming rally. you and soonyoung both applied to asb your sophomore year of high school, desperate for some kind of extracurricular to pad your college application with. although being in your school’s asb came with a lot of responsibilities, it was fun when you did it with your friend(? situationship?).

soonyoung was sitting at the bottom bench of the bleachers, his face resting on his palm and his eyes watching you intently as you approached him.

“what’s got you pouting? did seungcheol yell at you again?” you stood in front of him with your hands resting on your hips and a small smile. “come on, cheer up soonie. i promised to buy you frozen yogurt after this.”

he pushed himself up to his feet, now towering over you with his height. “you promised to do the banners with me.”

soonyoung’s bottom lip jutted out in an almost adorable way and you physically stopped yourself from cooing at him.

“is that why you’re upset? because i ditched you and the banners?” you smiled and soonyoung nodded.

“you left me to hang out with those…” his words faltered and you glanced back to see the group of friends still gossiping. the discussion seemed to be getting pretty heated with the way you could hear seungkwan’s voice steadily growing in volume.

“them? we were just–“ you turned back to face soonyoung when you felt a gentle tug on your waist. stumbling forward, you now stood barely inches away from him. “soonyoung, what-”

he tried his best to avoid eye contact, his eyes darting around the gym as he nervously licked his lips.

“wndedootbewsjfhme...” soonyoung mumbled. his grip tightened on your belt loop, pulling you closer to him, your body now grazing his.

“h-huh? wh… i can’t hear…” it was your turn to avoid eye contact now. your heart hammered against your chest, fast and hot in anticipation.

“i said… i wanted you to be with me…” soonyoung muttered. his ears were flushed, a bright shade of red that brought a small smile to your face.

“w-what, are you jealous or something?” you teased as an attempt to cover up how loud your heart was beating in your ears.

soonyoung grinned. his shy and timid demeanor from seconds ago was nowhere to be found. in it’s place was the soonyoung you knew, complete with the overly confident and cocky smile accompanied by the mischievous glint in his eyes.

“what if i am? is that going to change anything?”

wonwoo - leaving his game to give you attention

“wonwooooooo” you cried out. wonwoo let out a small grunt in response. “i’m boreddddd”

you perched yourself on the edge of his desk, watching his focused eyes stare at the monitor in front of him. his fingers were moving at a lightning fast speed, but his facial expressions demeanor seemed to scream calm and relaxed.

“you’re bored?” wonwoo echoed your last words and you nodded. although his eyes never left his screen, you could tell he was paying you the utmost attention he could currently afford. “hmmm… how can we fix that?”

leaning your head on wonwoo’s shoulder, you pouted. “i want you to play with me, not your games.”

wonwoo laughed. the corners of his eyes had a slight wrinkle and you felt something tugging at your heartstrings. “is that right?”

with a few clicks of his mouse, his monitor turned dark and his pc chirped, alerting him that the system had been shut down.

“wha-? you were in the middle of a game-“

wonwoo took off his headset and ruffled his hair with a hand, trying to fix it after hours of wearing a headset. “doesn’t matter. you’re more important.”

you felt your breath catch in your throat as you felt heat creeping up your skin, reaching your cheeks and the tips of your ears.

woozi - initiating pda in public first

it was loud. the football stadium was packed with students decked out in school spirit, and you could barely feel your fingertips from the biting cold.

“jihoon…” your fingers tugged on his sleeve and jihoon spared you a glance before leaning closer to you to hear you better in the loud crowd. “i’m cold...”

he looked at you and smiled. “told you to bring a jacket.”

“this is a jacket!” you retorted.

“this?” jihoon laughed. you could see a twinkle of amusement in his eyes as he looked over your outfit. “honey, this jacket is basically a cropped top on steroids. you seriously expected this to keep you warm in this weather?”

you felt the tips of your ears burning at the new nickname he called you, but you couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment. that wasn’t the response you expected–or wanted.

“you’re being mean!” you whined, but a small laugh escaped your lips at the way jihoon faux-frowned at you. you lightly shoved his shoulder. “i’m being serious, it’s not about the jacket.”

jihoon raised a brow. “what could this possibly be about then?”

“it’s about…” you trailed off and shook your head. “never mind. it’s nothing.”

you crossed your arms over your chest and turned back to face forward. a wave of embarrassment washed over you, serving as a wake up call. sure, you and jihoon had some thing going on, but you felt silly for expecting him to hold your hand or hug you in front of almost the entire school.

jihoon was a private person. that was a fact that you knew that better than anyone else. he wasn’t one to initiate physical contact when it was just the two of you, let alone in the middle of a busy high school football game.

“[name],” jihoon spoke quietly in your ear, his warm hand grazing against yours. “[name], look at me.”

when you didn’t respond, he let out a small puff, followed by a small laugh.

“c’mere” jihoon muttered. he wrapped his arm around your waist and tugged you closer to his side. “they say sharing body heat helps.”

you stared blankly at him. the colony of butterflies in your stomach seemed to migrate to your heart and you swallowed thickly.

“wh- what if someone sees?”

jihoon let out a half snort. “let them see. i don't care”

note: jihoon had extremely red ears during this entire exchange, and no, it wasn’t because of the cold. trust me.

reblogs and feedback is always appreciated ^-^

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kiiwiola · 16 days ago

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◟ DOG ATTACK

──────── What was meant to be a quiet walk in the park turns into an unexpected meet-cute when Y/N gets knocked to the ground by a dog with too much enthusiasm and not enough brakes. As Cooper the dog plants himself in Y/N’s lap like he’s found his soulmate, sparks start flying between the two girls. 711 WC

❪ CONTAINS ❫ Excessive fluff, Minor physical contact (dog tackle, hand-holding), Very soft flirting, very short

Idk I just came up with this 😭 planning on releasing a long fic and remaking some of my smau’s starting with a cup of your heart, will try to do all the profiles and contacts as soon as possible!!

You weren’t even supposed to be at the park today.

Your whole afternoon plan revolved around iced coffee, noise-canceling earbuds, and absolutely no human interaction. But life or fate, or maybe just karma after you ignored your mom’s call this morning had other ideas.

Because one second, you're walking peacefully along the trail, and the next—

”OH MY GOD—"

A Thud. You’re on the ground. Flat. Dazed. With something warm, heavy, and extremely enthusiastic sitting on your chest.

An Italian greyhound is panting happily over you, tail wagging like a metronome on caffeine, tongue halfway to licking your entire face. You barely manage to sit up when the dog lets out a joyous bark and throws a paw onto your lap.

“Well,” you mutter, blinking. “This is how I die.”

“Cooper, no!” a voice yells in the distance.

You blink again.

Cooper?

Footsteps thud against the gravel, quick and light. And then she appears, slightly out of breath, hair pulled back into a messy ponytail, cheeks flushed from running.

And holy hell, she’s beautiful.

“I'm so sorry, he’s still learning not to treat people like bowling pins..are you okay?”

You nod, though you’re definitely still processing her existence more than her words.

She crouches beside you, placing a hand gently on your arm. Her fingers are warm.

“You sure?” she asks again, brow furrowed with genuine concern.

“Yeah,” you say, exhaling. “Just slightly emotionally betrayed by gravity. And Cooper.”

At that, she laughs, a soft, breathy sound that makes your chest flutter. “You’re funny. Most people just cry or yell.”

You glance down at the dog, still happily sprawled in your lap like he’s chosen you as his new mom. “He’s forgiven. He has soft ears.”

“Right? He uses them to get away with everything.”

You both watch him for a second. Then she adds, “I’m Giselle, by the way. Or Gigi..if you’re not mad about the whole being-tackled part.”

You shake your head, smiling up at her. “Y/N. Not mad. I’ve been tackled worse.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Oh? Professional athlete or chaotic energy magnet?”

You smirk. “The second one. Definitely.”

Giselle grins back, and the air between you lightens like it’s suddenly full of summer and possibilities.

“Well, Y/N the chaotic energy magnet, I owe you a coffee or a cookie or something for the unprovoked dog attack.”

You’re still sitting on the ground Coopet clearly has no intention of letting you go and Giselle’s standing now, offering you a hand to help you up. You reach out and take it, and there’s a pleasant jolt when your fingers meet.

She pulls you to your feet easily, and you stumble slightly, bumping into her shoulder. She's a little taller up close not towering, but just enough to feel it and the way she steadies you with a light hand on your elbow sends your heart into a full gymnastics routine.

“…Sorry,” you say quickly, cheeks warming. “Not used to being vertical after being flattened by joy.”

“That’s fair,” Giselle says, and you can’t tell if she’s trying not to laugh or if she’s just genuinely amused by you. Either way, she’s still holding your hand.

Neither of you lets go.

Cooper lets out a low woof like he's approving of this entire situation.

“Okay, but,” she says, biting back a grin. “If my dog already loves you this much, I feel like I should at least get your number. You know… to supervise future cuddles.”

You blink. Then smile.

“Supervise, huh?”

Giselle shrugs, playfully smug. “Strict protocols. Safety first.”

“Well then,” you say, tugging your phone from your pocket, “better make it official.”

She beams as you hand it to her, and something about the way she types her number in confidently, without hesitation makes your heart race in a really annoying, exciting way.

“I promise,” she says, handing your phone back, “next time we meet, I’ll let you stay upright.”

“No promises,” you say, smiling. “I might let Cooper tackle me again just to see you run like that.”

She laughs again bright and unguarded and you think, maybe it was a good thing you came to the park after all.

Especially if fate throws her at you next time instead of the dog.

#aespa #aespa giselle #aespa x reader #aespa x fem reader #aespa x you #aespa giselle x reader #giselle x reader #giselle x fem reader #giselle fanfic #Giselle fluff #aespa fluff #aeri x reader #aeri x fem reader

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biblio-smia · 1 year ago

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shy shy shy

a little insecure tasm peter parker x reader, early stages of relationship

masterlist | requests are open!

buy me a ko-fi!

nerdy peter lovers rise

They were just glasses.

On, off. On, off. A clear reflection of Peter in the bathroom mirror, a few circles of color where his head and body would be.

Peter examines himself with the lenses on, pulls out a piece of his sweater that had gotten caught inside his plaid pajama pants. His hands run up through the damp hair that falls flat against his forehead in an attempt to give it a little volume but it's no use without his usual styling products. Peter slaps his palms on his cheeks, shakes his head and sends micro-drops of water sailing. He bounces in place, attempting to shake out the jitters his body has had trouble containing all day.

Peter pushes his contact lens case aside, gives himself one last glance over. He contemplates for a few seconds, biting the inside of his cheek. Peter sighs as he pulls the lenses off again, cradling them in his hands and blowing air through his lips.

Metal frames, thick lenses.

Couldn't have that spider fixed his vision while he was at it?

Okay, Peter's vision wasn't that bad. Maybe he could survive without the frames Peter felt altered his appearance so drastically (or at least, reflected more accurately the type of person Peter was in his spare time). Peter with Contacts was cool and confident - scaled back from the confidence he had while he was in his suit, but not as pathetic as he was back in high school. Peter with Glasses? Yeah, that guy looked deserving of wedgies.

He reaches for his phone to check the time (and make sure he hasn't left you alone for too long), but can't make out what the white numbers say through his cracked screen.

Okay, maybe it is pretty bad.

Peter sighs, picks up the mess he'd made pre and post shower, hyping himself up one more time before opening the door and flipping the light switch off.

Peter pads down the hallway and peers his head around the corner into the small living room. He squints and can just barely make out the top of your head sitting on his couch.

Even though he can't see you very well, Peter's heart makes a funny feeling in his chest, even through the eye strain.

It's like you can feel Peter's eyes on you (which, you probably can - Peter is working overtime to try and make out the details of you) because you sit a little straighter and turn your head. Peter pushes his glasses on just in time to see you smile. And then grin.

"You wear glasses?"

Your voice is curious, not at all condescending, though Peter can hear the smile in your voice as you come up to meet him.

"For the aesthetics," Peter grins, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms in an attempt to make you believe the false sense of confidence he's putting up. It's stupid, really, but a tiny piece of Peter thinks someone as consistently perfect as you should be with someone who is equally on par. And, at the moment, Peter feels like he's letting you down.

You stand close to Peter, too close (his heart can't stop fluttering and his breath has caught in his throat). Peter fights the urge to pull you close to him. Too much, too soon, though he'd really like to kiss you right about now.

You try to contain your smile, a part of you still not quite believing that you've been so consistently guilty of making Peter Parker flustered.

Your fingers gently pull Peter's glasses off with a glint in your eye and Peter frowns at the sudden loss of sight - only because he doesn't want to miss looking at you from so close.

"For the aesthetics, huh?" You grin, turning the glasses to measure the thickness of Peter's lenses. Your suspicions about the strength of his prescription are confirmed by the way Peter's eyes are squeezed together as he looks at you.

"A hundred percent," Peter persists, opening his eyes normally and looking straight at the blurred lines of your face.

You take a step back and flash your phone at Peter, tiny words melted into a block of black. Peter instinctively squints and leans forward, trying to distinguish what the small screen said.

"You're like a grandma," you laugh, fully now.

"You should feel horrible for making fun of the elderly." Peter's arms drop, reaching for his glasses with an easy smile. But you move your hands away and Peter's hands catch on the crooks of your arms as you carefully place Peter's glasses back on his face, taking care to place them behind his ears as comfortably as you can. Your fingers graze against Peter's hair, still damp from his shower, gently moving a few stray pieces back into place.

"Well, you can't go to sleep like that," you murmur. "You'll get sick."

"So I guess we have time to kill?" Peter asks, hoping the two of you will sit down for a movie - or anything that'd keep him close to you, really.

"I guess we do," you grin, hands falling to Peter's shoulders, savoring the feeling of his hands on you, unable to help the craving you have for more.

"Pete?"

"Hmm?" Peter is partially entranced, melted like chocolate with the sweet sound of that little nickname coming out of your mouth. His eyes flicker and he's trying not to stare at your lips, bottom lip caught in his mouth in anticipation.

"Could I put my stuff in your room?" You ask sweetly, trying not to laugh at the way Peter falters, blinking quickly.

"Oh, yeah, sure," Peter nods frantically, hoping he's not as red as he feels.

You bite back your grin as Peter stays there, not moving until you do, sweet brown eyes slightly magnified by his glasses. Oh, but it'd be so cruel to deny him.

You press a quick kiss to the corner of Peter's mouth. It's a little shy and you turn away immediately to grab the overnight bag you'd packed. Two pairs of cheeks are red and grateful for the excuse of it, trying to shake off the little bit of nervousness the two of you still have around each other. It's a little strange, neither of you quite used to having someone around to love so freely. It's new, too, both of you still a little afraid to do something that would scare the other off, each of you knowing you'd never be the one to run off.

But this tiny fear that lives in both of your brains is what had Peter picking over his appearance earlier and is what makes him nervous now as he leads you down the hall to his room. He'd cleaned it thoroughly, considering hiding all his trinkets and trophies, ended up shoving things that had littered his shelves into his closet.

Peter takes a breath before opening his creaky door, smiling as he welcomes you in, hoping you somehow wouldn't notice - or maybe, wouldn't care to ask about - any of the posters or books or medals or figurines that made Peter, Peter. He was partially embarrassed and entirely nervous about sharing more of himself with you. After all, Peter was an expert at shutting people out and not too great at letting them in.

He doesn't know if he's relieved or even more anxious as you stare in awe, bag abandoned near his bed. It's clear you're taking in every detail of Peter's room, eyes not missing a single decoration. Peter feels as if he's being dissected, fidgeting as he waits for you to finish your analyzing. He's about to suggest that movie when you walk over to the desk he has shoved against the wall. Peter doesn't think there's anything special about books and pencils, but you're touching the tops of the things on his desk with care and a fascination he doesn't quite understand.

You quietly move onto old trophies and medals Peter has displayed, only the ones he was proudest of.

"Princeton Math Competition? Wow, Pete." You only turn your attention to him momentarily, returning your eyes to the shelf with a grin.

Peter's heart flutters when you sound... impressed? It was an accomplishment he was proud of, but not something he went around telling strangers.

"Oh, that... that- that's old," Peter laughs, coming up behind you, sure now there'd be no chance of getting you to watch that movie.

"Tell me about it."

"W...what?" Peter laughs, glancing at you curiously.

"I wanna hear about it," you say genuinely, taking a seat on the edge of Peter's bed. "Tell me about it."

Peter doesn't have to tell you he's shocked for you to realize it, a small smile tugging at your lips as you look up at him. Peter's not sure he has the courage to ask why before you beat him, sensing his hesitancy.

"I wanna know everything about you Peter. I wanna hear about your math competitions. I want you to tell me what books you're reading. I wanna know what matters most to you," you shrug, face a little warm from the confession. You don't have too much time to be embarrassed before Peter is next to you, hands digging into the bed at your sides. His face is inches away, his breath warm on your lips.

"Please let me kiss you," Peter whispers.

"Please do," you whisper back, letting Peter take your face in his hands and pull you into a kiss. The surface you've chosen is a little unstable as the both of you shift around, neither of you quite able to let the other go until you're forced to, breathless and grinning.

Peter's glasses have fogged up and he groans, pulling them off exasperatedly. "God, I hate these things."

"Really? But you look so good in them," you comment innocently, picking up the frames and attempting to look through them, muttering something about how, wow, Peter is blind.

Peter's not paying attention, though, heart hammering in his chest. He takes you by surprises when he kisses you this time, glasses still in your hands as they rest against his chest.

"You're trouble," Peter says when he finally pulls away. "You're doing awful things to my heart."

"Should I make fun of you, then?" You tease.

"Oh, I think that'd make it worse."

"I didn't know you were into that."

Peter shoves you as you laugh, though he can't help but join you.

"I didn't know you were into nerds," Peter quips, letting you slide his glasses back onto his face - the ones that suddenly don't seem that bad anymore.

"Only the really pretty ones," you murmur, and really, how could Peter not kiss you for that one?

Peter tries to take his glasses off as your kissing grows heated, knowing they'll be useless when they eventually fog up anyway. But your hand stops Peter, lips puffy from plenty of kisses and still eager for more.

"Nuh-uh," you say, pulling Peter's hand back down. "Keep them on."

#peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker x reader #spiderman x reader #tasm spiderman #tasm spiderman x reader #andrew garfield peter parker x reader #andrew peter parker #v + peter #v writes

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cuteandhughesy · 4 months ago

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Tripping, Falling With No Safety Net ╰┈➤ MR73

summary: four weeks has passed since your adventure in the elevator, and you haven’t stopped thinking about the attractive stranger since then. just when you think you’ll never see him again, you run into matt in the most unattractive place.

[word count] 7.8k

a/n: the much requested and anticipated part 2 of no sex in the elevator! I hope I did this justice and you all enjoy the blooming story of matt and y/n :)

🎵 safety net by ariana grande (feat. ty dolla sign), rush by troye sivan, don't blame me by taylor swift, + make it to morning by partynextdoor

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

you see matt rempe everywhere. okay, well no—not really. the physical, almost 7ft tall man who rocked your world on the carpet of an elevator almost two months ago was nowhere in sight…physically. but his name, well you see it and hear it everywhere.

the last name you've since become well aware of is sprawled across the back of jerseys—haunting you as you walk around new york—his name is heard on the tv at work, all your male co-workers raving over how much a savage matt rempe is.

if only they knew.

that night, which somehow feels like forever ago but simultaneously feels like yesterday, has yet to leave your head—or your body. matt practically destroyed you, splitting you in two with his length until it felt like you were going to cry. the hours trapped with him really had you feeling somewhat fond of giant man, and growing enamoured with his little quirks and giggles.

not only did you learn so much about him, but matt learned so much about you. but that evening, as the maintenance finally rescued you from the hot, sex smelling metal box, you were both in such a hassle that you forgot to exchange numbers.

you didn't realize the mistake until you finally got back to your apartment, nearing 3 in the morning, crawling into bed already dreading your morning shift—still fluttering between your legs—when it dawned on you. you have no way of contacting matt, and he has no way of reaching you.

you're just two strangers who fucked in an elevator.

although neither you or matt disclosed the full extent of your professions—you knew he worked in sports. but the shock you felt when you saw him in an nhl highlight reel, over your middle aged colleagues shoulder at work nonetheless, had your jaw dropping. I mean, you should've expected it just based on the muscles underneath his soft skin, and the stamina he displayed when he was pounding into—you need to calm down.

you went home that night and found him on instagram, sending him a DM before you could overthink the situation. you've started to catch feelings for him for fucks sake, you can't allow him to slip through you fingers that easily.

but you never got a response. I mean, with the amount of DMs a young, attractive professional athlete must receive, yours was bound to get lost in the abyss—but there was still a small part of you that has hope. but that hope was started to get crushed when you were meet with radio silence for weeks.

almost 4 weeks to be exact, which in hindsight isn't that long, but when the only thing you can think about or focus on is seeing matt, or talking to him one more time—4 weeks feels like a lifetime.

4 weeks of pent up sexual frustration stemming from matt damn rempe. worst of all, not even your fingers or shitty bullet vibrator are doing the trick—you can't even make yourself cum because he’s ruined you for life.

which brings you to now, 7 p.m on a thursday night. the soft blanket strewn loosely across your bed rubs your shoulder blades soothingly as you shuffle around, brows furrowed in concentration as you slide the slick, gray vibrator through your folds.

your jaw goes slack as you bump your clit, your back arching of your bed as your nerves ignite. the humming vibrations tickle your core just right, and you're getting increasingly more wet and slippery as you hold the bullet to yourself. you're not close yet, but it feels good enough—which seems to be the new motto of your lacking sex life: good enough. a breathless sigh escapes you, legs spreading impossibly wider as your body naturally searches for more—for him.

the vibrator stutters oddly, and your eyes widen at the feeling. pushing yourself up onto your elbow, you eye the slick device. it stutters again, more frantically this time before completely quitting. you whine, body falling back in defeat. you feel like you could cry, removing the device from your folds and hastily plugging it into its charger.

it's a long shot, considering you just took it off the charger, but maybe it's battery life has decreased since you purchased the toy—in fucking college. you pump your fingers in and out of your dripping entrance while you wait, but it does nothing to soothe the burning in your loins. much like you suspected, the vibrator isn't charging. it's completely dead. garbage.

"stupid piece of shit." you roll your eyes and toss it across your bedroom. it hits the lipgloss you left on your vanity before falling into the trashcan—along with the brand new tube of rhode lipgloss still in the box. you're too horny to even worry about that right now, so you get off your bed and slip on the pair of sweatpants you'd discarded the night before.

you're feeling flushed, and the white tank top you’re wearing is doing nothing but sticking to your dewy skin uncomfortably. throwing on a zip up is the last thing you want to do, but walking to the drug store in just a tank top will have you regretting not wearing one—so here you are. just before you walk out of your apartment, you grab a pair of oversized sunglasses. the last thing you need right now is getting caught by a co-worker or a friend while trying to buy a new vibrator.

as soon as you step into the pharmacy, you slip the glasses down, shielding yourself from the fluorescent lights. you make a beeline to the hygiene aisle, darting past the tampons and adult diapers until you're at the correct section. you’re so horny and determined you can’t even care how crazy you look.

"okay," you sigh, peering through the options on the middle shelf in front of you. there's more options that you were expecting, and it's making your brain go a little fuzzy. it doesn't help that you can feel your arousal dripping down your inner thigh—but you digress.

you opt for a new version of what you already had, your nimble fingers grabbing it off the shelf and quickly tucking it against your chest. you let out a breath of what feels like relief, turning on your heels and walking out of the long aisle.

about a mater away, lingering at the end of aisle 8, thumbing through body wash, stands matt rempe. your steps falter, and your stomach swoops with something you can't decipher—whether it's excitement or nerves, you’re too shocked to tell. your face pales and flushes all at once, and the grip you have on the sex toy box tightens.

matt hasn't seen you, so before he has the chance to, you turn around and dart back into the aisle. you’re fumbling, bumping into the shelf of tylenol beside the pregnancy tests, and you curse as some of the medicine clatters and falls to the ground. you can feel him moving—your body igniting like a magnet.

"shit." you curse hurriedly, gathering the medicine off the floor and hazardly throwing the bottles back onto random shelves—you’re pretty sure one even ends up with the ultra thin condoms. out of the corner of your eye you see a large pair of sneakers walk by the aisle—matt walk by the aisle. you freeze, breathing catching and hands stilling on a bottle of extra strength.

but matt doesn't stop—oh fuck, never mind, he's doubled back. you've definitely been found, you think. you clear your throat in hopes to act natural, getting off your knees and placing another bottle of medicine back onto its proper shelf, attempting to appear small and nonexistent.

he slows to a stop right beside you, large frame towering over you and casting a shadow. but you don't look. instead you pretend to rifle through the shelves like you work there or something.

matt lets out a small breath of laughter, and the sound has your heart leaping. he reaches out towards you and plucks your sunglasses off your face. fuck, you think—he's got you know. slowly, your eyes flicker up to meet his familiar brown gaze. immediately your knees feel weak.

his lip quirks up in a smirk that makes you flush. "thought that was you." matt says casually, sliding the oversized glasses back into your hair, revealing even more of your blushed skin.

"it's me." you swallow.

you feel a bit dumbfounded. you can't decide if you want to turn heel and sprint out of the store, or sprint into matt rempe's arms. he looks so good, all cozy in a hoodie and matching sweats—light gray nonetheless. subconsciously your eyes trial down to matt's crotch, and yeah, you can see his dick print. your vagina clenches pathetically—it remembers the man in front of you all too well.

you tried so hard to get in contact with matt, hell you prayed for it. and now here he is, all 6 foot 9 inches of him. standing with you in front of the tylenol and condoms in a random new york drug store.

matt's smirk deepens, and a splash of pink dusts over his cheekbones. "it's you. hey." he's got one of the body washes in his hand, the same brand he'd been looking at when you spotted him—some old spice scent that probably smells like heaven. "how are you?"

it has you remembering what you've got in your arms, and your eyes widen comically. it’s no use because matt has already seen the vibrator, but he lets you panic anyways—smirk still on his face nonetheless—fumbling with the box until it's behind your back. "i'm okay."

he nods his head, amused. "I bet."

you blink, swallowing roughly as you tilt your neck back to look up at him. your mouth opens, but nothing comes out. you've spent so much time thinking about what you'd say to matt if you ever saw him again, and now he's here and your mind has gone blank. "I dmed you..." you start lightly, trailing off, taking a shaky breath. "on instagram. I didn't know your last name but my co-worker, dylan who's a total jerk by the way—he had highlight reels on and I saw you. on the ice. matt rempe."

you laugh breathily like you can't believe what's happening—because you truly can't believe what's happening. matt's heart flutters fondly at your rambling admission and the small laugh that bubbles from you. his brows shoot skyward in surprise.once he focuses on what you said, rather than how you looked when you said it. "wait, really?"

you nod pathetically.

he hums. "damn, I should check my messages more often, huh? i'm sorry, I had no fucking idea. If I did I would've..." matt trails off, tongue swiping along his bottom lip as his eyes dart over your face. slowly. your eyes are bright and lustful, cheeks pink with embarrassment and something else, and he can see your pale purple lace bra through your thin white tank top. "I would've answered."

your breath hitches, fingers tightening on the box still hidden behind your back. "oh."

he runs his free hand through his messy, damp hair. you wonder if he had an afternoon game today, and his hair is wet from his postgame shower. or maybe matt has started his shower at home and then was out of body wash—leaving him with no choice but to come here and get some. whatever it is, you're glad matt rempe is here.

and in some sick way, you're glad you decided to masturbate tonight, and even more so that your old, shitty vibrator died.

matt's smirk is back, and for a moment you’re back in that broken down elevator, starring at him through the haze of red light as he dares you to sit on his lap. matt’s eyes dart past your shoulder for a moment, "you need help with something?"

you just know he's referring to the sex toy you'd been trying to buy, and your skin burns so hot you feel like you could ignite in flames. hesitantly, and to honestly save yourself some dignity, you bring it back around to your front. you laugh dismissively, "it fell. actually, I was just putting it back." you shove the vibrator box between a rabbit toy and some lube.

matt's brows furrow, but his small amused grin doesn’t wavers. "no need to be embarrassed, y/n. i've been inside you, remember?"

you squawk like a parrot, looking around frantically to ensure nobody is in hearing distance. matt doesn't care though, and he picks the vibrator right back off the shelf and tucks it between his bicep and forearm.

"matt." you say, looking between his face and the sex toy nestled in his arm. "you really don't need to-"

"-I need to grab deodorant and some candy, come on." he interrupts, walking further down the aisle, vibrator in his grip. you blink once, then twice, and before you can register what you're doing, you're following him. matt slows his long strides as he hears your feet slapping against the tiles quickly to catch up, a fond grin on his soft face.

matt is itching to reach out and touch you in some way—he's missed you so much it's honestly embarrassing. you look so soft and warm, looking up at him all bright eyed and long lashes, following him blindly. matt has no excuse for being turned on…it’s simply just you that does it for him.

he comes to a stop in front of the deodorants, looking through the various brands. "so, were you just coming here to get this?" matt questions without looking at you, grabbing an irish spring aerosol. he smells it through the cap, and then puts it back.

"ummm, yeah." embarrassment is lacing your words, and you clear your throat once again. but matt doesn't seem bothered, picking up some name brand deodorant that apparently smells like fresh wood and the ocean.

"really? you loose your charger or something and have to buy a new one?" he asks, popping off the cap and taking a sniff. it actually smells like shit, not wood and ocean—matt puts the lid back on and slots it on the shelf.

the absurdity of it all makes you laugh gently. his seemingly casual demeanour is rubbing off on you, and although matt rempe is technically a stranger, he's also not. you run a hand through your hair, which is no doubt tangled from when you'd be rolling around in your bed trying to make yourself cum. "worse, actually."

"oh yeah?" he grins curiously.

you nod. "yeah, 30 minutes ago it literally broke down in the middle of using it. so here I am."

his eyes gloss over, and matt looks right at you, deodorant forgotten. "you were touching yourself 30 minutes ago?"

you nod again.

matt shudders out a breath, a small hushed curse following. his eyes quickly dart to your boobs because he can’t help himself, and then they travel further down, briefly landing on your covered pussy before he finds your face again. he can feel his dick twitch uncomfortably in his sweats. "you're killing me."

his admission is so quiet that you're not even sure if he meant to say it out loud. you swallow your anticipation, watching as matt hurriedly grabs an old spice deodorant without smelling it, adding it to the growing pile in his arm before looking back at you. "come back to my place, y/n."

your stomach swoops, and then a shaky please follows matt's words and you're nodding quickly—desperately. his grin widens, "okay, let's go. fuck the candy." and he's dead serious.

you giggle, and it has matt joining in. one of his large hands wraps around your waist, pulling you in front of his body as you begin to walk towards the checkout. "stay in front of me," matt mumbles, leaning down and brushing his lips against your ear. "i'm half hard and if you move everyone is going to know what’s going on.”

that gets you both moving, lining up in the check out lane to purchase the collection of items—and yes, matt buys you the vibrator. the teenage boy behind the cash eyes matt and the sex toy curiously, but matt doesn't seem bothered. if anything, he seems proud, wrapping his long arms around your waist and tugging you back against his semi.

matt's place is a bit farther than yours, and you know that because you could've walked to yours in the time it takes matt to drive to his. but you don't mind—how could you when the entire drive is filled with soft conversation, and matt's thumb rubbing your knee as he grips your thigh.

there's a unspoken tension on the ride up in the elevator that lingers between you and matthew, slinking between you both and reminding you of what happened last time you were in an elevator together. kissing, laughter, breathless moaning and lewd wet noises.

your vagina is fluttering again, and it doesn't help when matt steps closer to you, gently grabbing your face between his hands and tilting your head backwards—leaning down and kissing you.

his lips are as soft as you remember, and they work yours just the way you want them too. your body is falling apart in his hands, swaying into his chest and sighing into his mouth. as you attempt to deepen the kiss and swipe your tongue along his bottom lip, the elevator doors slide open.

matt snickers when you whine, hands sliding down your body until he's grabbing at your hips. "c'mon."

matt's place is actually really fucking clean. it's a typical new york apartment, all white and modern with crisp furniture and counters that look so expensive you're scared to not use a coaster. there's small touches of matt throughout the space though. a framed photo of what looks like his family on a kitchen shelf, as well as snacks not yet put away but instead, left on the counter. it's all mostly healthy shit that makes you pull a face.

there's a few loose throw blankets on the couch and a fake plant on the coffee table. there's spare hockey sticks in the corner of the room next to a tall lamp—although you're sure if matt stood next to it, it would look miniature. there's shoes by the door, and coats on the chair. it smells like hockey puck and cologne, and matt must've left the tv on before he left, because you can hear madagascar playing.

you've been gawking at his apartment long enough for matt to have already unpacked the drugstore bag—his deodorant, body wash and your fucking vibrator lined up on his counter.

he grins, balling up the fabric tote bag and shoving it in the cupboard beside the fridge. matt's dark eyes flicker to your form, still standing in the threshold between the kitchen and living space. "you look pretty in my apartment."

his voice has you blinking out of your unapologetic stare, looking over just as matt grabs your waist, gently bringing you into the kitchen and up against his torso. "just in your apartment?" you tease—you're too horny and too touch deprived to feel embarrassed any longer.

"everywhere." matt corrects himself, his words whispered in the minimal space left between you. his large hands slide down and over your ass, giving the flesh a firm squeeze before he's lifting you off the floor and sitting you down on the counter.

your breath hitches in surprise, but soon enough you feel yourself stop breathing completely—because now you're at the perfect level to be in proper eye contact with matt. instinctively your hands slide up his shoulders before wrapping your arms around his neck, holding him close. matt's eyes flicker down to your lips, and then in a blink he's kissing you again.

this kiss is slower and more messy than the chaste, hurried one in the elevator. it's like matt's taking his time with you, his hands alternating between sweeping up and down your spine and squeezing the flesh of your ass, each time pulling you closer to the edge of the countertop—closer to him.

you moan pathetically into the kiss, fingers carding through matt's hair and squeezing the roots firmly.

reluctantly, matt pulls away from the kiss, his lips all swollen and slick. you chase his mouth desperately, but he doesn't give in. matt sighs, the sound shaky and desperate as he takes his hand off your ass—instead placing it flat on the counter just next to your hips.

"matt," you pout, eyes flickering to his in a way that has his cock hardening. "please."

you don't have to say what you're begging for, because matt knows exactly what you want. he wants it to—he wants your warm, sweet walls squeezing around his length the same way they did a month ago. but he also wants you in every other way, not just sexual—which is a surprise to him too, trust me. "I know." he says, pecking the corner of your mouth quickly.

matt watches as your eyes flutter closed at the feeling, only to snap back open when he pulls away. he continues, "but I missed you too much, and i'm fucking starving."

"what?" you blink.

quickly, matt's eyes darken until they're almost black. he reaches up to your face, taking your sunglasses off your head and placing them on the counter—next to a fruit bowl that's only full of bananas and oranges. your hair falls in your face, but matt tucks it behind your ear before you get the chance. his hand lingers on your face when he says, "first we're going to eat, maybe watch a movie and then im going to take this new vibrator and hold it against your pretty pussy until you cum. understand?"

your mouth falls open in what can only be shock. you nod dumbly, speechless as you digest matt's dirty words—anticipation bubbling low in your belly.

he kisses your cheek and then completely pulls away from you, turning around and opening the fridge. "what do you want to eat? i've got stuff to make pasta if you want that."

you're gripping the edge of the counter so hard that you're knuckles are turning white, looking at matt's back as he stifles through his fridge. you blink again, still feeling the aftershocks of the shock that you have from matt's filthy promise. "what?" you finally speak.

it makes matt pause, looking back at you over his broad shoulder. your expression has him flattering, "are you okay?"

your brows furrow. "am I okay? no, i'm so wet it’s not even funny. god, you've turned me into a slut, matt. i'm fucking banging one out every night because of you and what you did to me in that elevator....and you want to cook for me? also yeah, I love pasta."

his lips tug in a smile at your pathetic, whiny tone. you're not actually mad, that much is seeable. sure, you're confused and so horny it's not even laughable, but matt wanting to cook for you....it just turns you on even further. there was a part of you that was worried he'd only want sex again, and as much as you hated to admit that, it would've crushed you.

you'd never had more fun or felt more comfortable than you had with matt in that broken down elevator. when you ran into him again tonight, all those feelings came rushing back, and if he only wanted to fuck you and kick you out, you don't think you would've recovered.

but here he is, all tall and handsome with ground beef in his hand, looking at you softly with an amused smirk. "I haven't seen you in a month and I didn't think i'd ever see you again. so yeah, I wanna talk for a bit before I get you naked, y/n. I missed your voice and snarky comments too much."

you release a breath you didn't realize you were holding. his words providing the relief and conformation you were hoping for. "I missed your voice too."

matt smiles then, a real smile that you can't help but mimic. he nods once, almost shyly, and tosses the ground beef on the counter—a firm smack echoing throughout the kitchen knook. "get over here so I can feel you up while I start this meat."

you laugh and slip of the counter, pushing yourself next to matt and begin help him start making dinner. and like promised, matt smacks your ass appreciatively.

you hadn't realized how hungry you'd become until the smell of seasoned meat sauce hits your senses. when you got home from work you hadn't even eaten anything, too pent up with sexual frustration to do anything but strip your pants off and get to business.

you're stirring the curly noodles in the boiling water when matt's soft voice filters through the kitchen. "you know after you and I were rescued in that elevator…I realized I forgot to ask for you number when I was halfway home—I made my cab driver turn aorund and take me back. there was a part of me that was hoping you were still there for whatever reason, but you weren't. I was so mad at myself."

you frown gently, looking up at matt. his brows are furrowed as he drags a wooden spatula through the sauce, still bubbling on the stove next to you. you clear your throat, "I remembered when I got in bed that night, and I was so angry at myself for forgetting. I thought id never see you again—but when I saw you on tv, all sexy and famous, I had a feeling that I'd run into you again. somewhere...somehow."

he meets your eyes, and in the most deadpanned voice he mumbles, "i'm so glad I was out of body wash." you smile, and matt presses a loud kiss to your temple, making your grin grow.

once dinner is finished and plated, matt chooses to sit next to rather than across, and that really shouldn't melt your heart as much as it does. light conversation and flirtatious glances are exchanged between chews and swallows, making the coil in your stomach clench and throb pathetically.

matt begins talking about his last game, and about the fight he'd been in—which explains the small split on his eyebrow that you noticed when you were sitting on the counter top. it makes you think back to when you first saw matt on your collages computer screen. you finish your bite of pasta, "my co-workers called you a savage."

he snickers, eyes twinkling with amusement as he swallows his mouthful of food. "did you tell them that you know me?"

"no." you breathe a laugh, stabbing some noodles onto your fork. "then i'd have to tell them how I know you." matt's brows quirk in further curiosity while you take the pasta off the utensil, chewing it quickly before continuing. "my one co-worker, the one I mentioned earlier, he has some weird hard on for me, so I don't think he'd appreciate me talking about his favourite athlete pounding my shit."

it doesn't make matt laugh like you expected. instead his gaze hardens and jaw ticks as he looks at you. "want me to punch him in the face? because I will." it's only after he says it, does matt allow his lips to slide upwards into a grin.

you snort, rolling your eyes with a fond smile. "no, matt oh my god. you're crazy."

he shrugs, taking another bite of food. "for you." matt mutters through a mouthful of curly saucy noodles, waggling his eyebrows in a playful manner.

you look away. "cheesy."

"but true."

"but cheesy." you reiterate softly, gaze flickering back to matt's.

he breathes and lets a beat pass. "...yeah." and when matt's eyes flicker down to your mouth and his hand runs up your leg, your face falls—looking at matt with a soft, yet hopeful expression. your own eyes fall down to matt's lips, watching his tongue slide along his bottom lip to moisten the plump skin. you blink and he's leaning in—slowly—to not startle you.

you put down your fork, the sound a small clink against the ceramic plate—echoing in your ears. matt had already put down his utensil, you note, because both hands are on your face in an instant. despite his grip on you, he doesn't bring you in for a kiss, but rather meets your mouth exactly where it is.

he taste like pasta and the strawberries he'd been sneaking when you were making dinner—and you taste the same, because he'd been feeding you the fruit like some kind of hallmark boyfriend. you moan into his mouth, and matt's long fingers slide through your hair smoothly, eliciting another breathy sigh from you.

you've turned into complete pudding, and he knows it too. the way you let matt move your face and touch your body—the sighs and groans passing through your mouth—they're all tell tale signs. an after dinner movie is long forgotten as matt lifts you up and off the small kitchen chair, back into his strong arms. your thighs tighten around his torso, and your arms wrap further around his neck as matt brings you back to the kitchen counter-top, sitting you on the surface like he did almost an hour ago.

the kiss never stops, and if anything it deepens. there's more heart and passion in this kiss—you need him and he needs you, and your mouths are doing a good job at telling that.

"what were you thinking about? when you were touching yourself?" matt barley pulls back from the kiss as he asks, lips brushing over yours slipperily.

you moan loudly, too loudly for simply just dry humping and dirty questions. "you." you admit breathlessly, your control and filter out the window. "was thinking about you."

matt doesn't answer, but instead leans back in and resumes the kiss. this time it's more messy and hurried—clashing teeth and tongues like they're in competition. his hands slide down your back, pass the elastic waistband of your sweats and over your ass.

matt groans when he realizes you're not wearing panties and that it's only your smooth, soft skin under his calloused palms. he squeezes your ass firmly, dragging you closer to the edge of the counter. "lift your hips."

you do without question, and matt takes the opportunity to pull your sweat pants down, all the way down your thighs, past your knees and over your ankles. matt's jaw goes slack at the sight of your bare, glistening pussy—the pussy he hasn't stopped thinking about for a month.

you're so wet it's not even funny. you can't help it, you've been turned on since before you got home from work—an interrupted solo sesh combined with matt's filthy words and kisses have you feeling on the verge of combustion.

his eyes finds yours again. "you're so fucking beautiful." he spreads your legs further apart with his hands, manoeuvring your limbs until you're perfectly exposed and positioned—exactly how matt wants you. the counter is cold under your feet and ass, but you don't care. all you can focus on is matt as he reaches behind you, grabbing the vibrator box and ripping it open.

your breath hitches and matt smirks. you swallow roughly, walls fluttering around nothing as his long fingers pull the toy out of the plastic holder. "matt...please, I need it so bad."

"take your shirt off." matt demands, ignoring your whiny pleas and pouty lips. he watches through hooded lids, toying with the bullet between his fingers as you lift your tank top off, revealing the pale purple lace bra he'd seen peeking through your shirt earlier. he falters slightly, groaning at the sight of your nipples pebbled under the lace. "I thought the animal print bra killed me...but this one? fuck."

your hips jerk, buts matt's quicker, pushing you back to the counter with one hand—while the other flicks the vibrator to life. the sound of rhythmic buzzing fills the room, and your pussy recognizes the sound and begins fucking dripping. "tell me you want it."

this matt is different from the one in the elevator. he's more sure—more dominant. and maybe it's because you're too wound up to form proper sentences, but unlike the time in the elevator, you're speechless. no quips or remarks, only pure burning need. you're submitting, and it's so hot.

you nod dumbly, pushing up onto the tips of your fingers so you can nudge your nose along matt's. he presses a chaste kiss to your puffy lips simply because he can't help it, and then he smirks when it makes you whine.

"I want it." you mumble, "I want you to touch me. with the vibrator...push it through my folds and hold it on my—oh fuck." you're interrupted as matt does exactly what you need, running the expanse of the toy up your slippery lips and finding your puffy, needy clit.

you mewl loudly, arms giving out underneath you and leaving you no choice but to fall back on your elbows.

"that's it, fuck, that's my girl." matt praises softly, running the vibrator up and down your folds. the feeling is heavenly, leaving your walls clamping and fluttering as your juices spill out your entrance.

"matt." you say his name helplessly. you're close, and you've been close for hours.

he hums, licking his lips. "I know baby, let me just have a taste." matt doesn't wait for your response before he’s dropping down to his knee. he keeps the vibrator solely on your throbbing clit, and like the kind, sweet, perfect man he is, thrusts his tongue into your entrance.

you moan loudly. "oh my god! don't stop."

and he couldn't even if he wanted to. you taste delicious, and matt's lapping at your juices like he can't get enough. the way he's got you spread open with his free hand on your inner thigh, combined with the vibrations on your clit and the feeling of his smooth tongue dipping in and out of your hole has you snapping.

"i'm cumming." you moan, your body tensing as your orgasm flushes through your nerves and muscles. matt doesn't slow his pace, fucking you through the high of your climax like a starved man.

you sigh loudly, falling back against the counter top as your body goes limp. it's only then that matt takes the vibrator off your clit, his tongue slowing in thrusts as your walls clamping dies down. he kneads and squeezes your thighs comfortingly, hushed praises falling from his slack jaw as you come back to reality.

"you okay?" matt questions softly, rising back to his full height. he helps you sit back up, and your arousal is cold against your skin—but your body is still hot and desperate for more.

you nod quickly, hands dipping beneath the hem of matt's shirt and feeling up his abs. his muscles contract and jump under your touch, and when you pass over his pecks—graze his nipples—he curses lowly. "I wanna suck your cock, matty."

one hand drops down, brushing over his hardening length beneath his gray sweats. matt's lashes flutter against his cheeks, a rough groan vibrating through his chest. "oh fuck—another time baby, I need to feel your pussy."

and who are you to object that?

matt's grabbing you again, wrapping you around his torso like you’re a koala and blindly walking you over to the sofa. you giggle happily into his warm neck, pressing a few lingering kisses against his pulse point that make his dick twitch—poking your ass.

he sits down with you on his lap, and matt is instantly attaching his lips to your jaw—kissing, nipping and sucking along you skin. automatically your head tilts, giving him the access he needs to continue a path down your neck. his hands are all over you—grabbing the meat of your ass, squeezing your waist and brushing your tits.

you're grinding against his clothed core pathetically, soaking his sweatpants like you're in heat. "you're wearing too many clothes," you breathe, already tugging on the hem of matt's hoodie. he leans back, watching with a soft smile and lazy eyes. he nods leisurely and you pull off his hoodie, revealing the expanse of soft, smooth skin and muscles that is matt rempe's torso.

you grin happily, squeezing his biceps and then his shoulders. you take your lip into your mouth, shamelessly letting your eyes wander his body. it's makes matt chuckle lowly, "forgot what I looked like?" he teases, brushing your wild hair away from your face and tucking it behind your ears.

you shake your head. "mhmm, could never forget." you lick your bottom lip, meeting matt's eyes. "was just admiring."

matt's pupils dilate and then his gaze turns dark. he leans into you, kissing you roughly, one of his large hands sprawled across your neck. you didn't think that any kiss would ever beat the ones matt gave you in that broken down elevator, but here he is now, outdoing himself.

"what do you want?" matt asks you, licking into your mouth once more before you can answer.

"what do you want?" you parrot, pushing your needy core down against his.

he groans loudly, slapping your ass quickly—so quickly you don't even have time to react properly before he's speaking again. "no, it doesn't matter what I want right now. i've been replaying everything you said in that elevator for a month. every. single. thing. fuck, you've been making me hard for a damn month without even being here. I've been dreaming of pleasing you...touching you. so once again, what do you want, y/n?"

your heart jumps, and your hips still against his momentarily. you think matt must be trying to kill you with words, because it feels like you're about to die. he says your name again, spoke quietly into your neck as he licks a strip up your skin. you gasp, hands flying to matt's hair.

you're breathless and fidgety, but still you manage to say — "I want to ride you." he curses shakily, and he thrusts his hips upwards, sending you crashing into his chest. you laugh, wrapping around matt like its second nature as he uses the leverage to pull his sweats and boxers down to rest just above his knees.

as soon as matt sits back down against the cushions, you're moving, reaching behind yourself and sliding your hand down matt's hard, warm length. you feel the two prominent veins against your palm, teasing you more than they have in the past month. you both sigh at the feeling of you slowly jerking his cock in your hand, teasing his throbbing slit with a swipe of your thumb.

matt tugs your bra down, revealing your heavy chest. "missed these." he says, already fondling your boobs with his hands, attaching his mouth to one puffy nipple. your body rolls instinctively, and matt's cock nestles hot and heavy between your ass cheeks.

"yeah?" you question knowingly—teasingly—lifting your hips just enough to guide the head of matt's cock close to your entrance. you're dripping again, so wet that it feels impossible to even breathe.

matter releases your nipple with one more sloppy kiss. "fuck yeah." his hands find your hips, lifting you higher to allow his dick to perfectly prod your hole. your breath hitches, hands falling to matt's broad shoulders to steady your legs—which have already started to tremble.

the head of his tip slips inside you comfortably, and your walls begin clamping in an attempt to suck him in deeper. you whine, trying to grind down, but matt's hands tighten on your hips—stopping you. "go slow, baby. you're shaking."

"shaking with need." you retort playfully. yet you're out of breath, small hands digging into matt’s trapezius muscle as you attempt to calm your eager, adrenaline filled body.

he gives you a teasing but knowing glance before he's helping you onto his length. slowly and inch by inch he fills your needy pussy, stretching you like putty. he's more endowed than you remember—thicker and longer. you gasp, stilling halfway down his length. "you're so big. I don't know if it'll fit."

matt pouts, although you're pretty sure it's condescending. his hands squeeze the meat of your hips again, a momentary distraction from the fullness between your legs. "it fit before baby, you can do it."

you mewl like a cat at his words. this time matt lets you sink down the rest of the way, going at your own pace as you take the rest of his length. he shutters, "that's my girl." then presses a kiss to your shoulder.

you've completely taken him, clit hitting matt's pelvic bone as your walls reach the base of his cock. matt's balls twitch against you, and you've never felt more stuffed in your life. "oh my god I think I can feel you in my stomach."

matt moans, fingers flexing on your body. "yeah? shit baby."

you sigh dreamily, and slowly begin lifting back off his member, rising only half way before sinking back down. matt curses, hands firmly sliding down to your ass and giving it one quick smack. you whine, picking up the speed of your movements just enough to have your toes clenching.

"just like that." he mutters, leaning in and sucking the pulse point on your neck. his nose nudges your skin, and he inhales, moaning at your sickly sweet scent. "you smell so good." matt grunts, nipping your skin—it stings but it's also delicious.

"today, before I even saw you, I knew you were there. I could smell your fucking perfume—that floral scent i've been longing for."

you moan, picking up your speed further. "oh my god!" your legs are starting to burn, and they've begun to shake more intensely. it has your movements faltering slightly, quick bursts of air leaving you as you try and control your breathing.

you go for another minute, desperate to try and reach your climax. your fingers dig into matt's chest and arms hard, leaving small crescent moon indents along his skin. your pout comes in full force, a tired and disappointed cry leaving your parted lips. “I can't-ugh, I can't do it."

matt knew it was only a matter of time before you became exhausted, and he's honestly surprised you lasted the 5 minutes you did. he can feel your walls squeezing and fluttering around his painfully hard cock—a sign that you're close.

he coos, scooping around the backs of your thighs so you're completely held up by his hands. "you tired baby?"

"mhmm." you whine, tears beginning to prick the edges of your eyes. you're so frustrated and horny, and all you've been thinking about for the past month is jumping on matt rempe's cock, and you're too fucking weak to do it.

reassuringly, matt kisses you—firm and sweet. "that's okay, baby. I'll help you." with that, he begins moving you on his cock, slowly at first. "you've been such a good girl, y/n—fuck." soon enough you're back at the perfect rhythm, matt's cock hitting the spongy spot inside you that makes your eyes roll back.

the springs in the couch are squeaking relentlessly as matt thrusts up into you, making everything feel that much more erotic and satisfying. you slump against matt's chest, "oh my—yes." the coil in your stomach is on the verge of snapping, and matt can feel it. the way you're nothing but a whining, borderline sobbing mess—walls squeezing him rhythmically.

"you feel so fucking perfect." he grunts, thrusts increasing to an unfathomable speed as his own release approaches. one of his hands leaves your leg and comes around to your front, swiping along your neglected clit. "my little slut to ruin."

"oh shit." you shout, body freezing as your orgasm hits you at full force. the feeling of your body cumming around matt's length as him reaching his own peak, and he pulls from your warm, gooey walls. he pumps his dick three times before his load spews over your stomach, painting your skin with his cum—all while his other hand rubs your clit softly as you come down from your high.

matt's moans are like music to your ears—little breathless gasps and deep rumbling groans in his chest.your take your bottom lip between your teeth, looking down at the mess sprayed over your belly. before you can decide against it, two of your small fingers swipe over the cum, collecting it on your digits before bringing them up to your mouth and sucking it clean off.

matt watches the entire thing, breathless and jaw slack. you smirk around your fingers as his lip begins quirking up, and before you can blink, matt pulls your hand away from your mouth and kisses you.

you giggle into it, wrapping your arms around matt's neck as his lips caress yours. his hands slide up your back tenderly, pressing against your spine firmly and rhythmically—hitting your pressure points and making you melt.

his fingers slide up the base of your neck and into your hair, threading your locks through his fingers and giving them a firm tug. for a moment you're back in the elevator, matt untangling rings from your messy hair. who would've thought it would've lead to the best sex of your life.

matt smiles against your mouth before pulling away. "i'm getting your number this time." his voice and face is full of determination and love. he grabs your hand and kisses the back of it, eyes never leaving yours.

"I'd hope so." you grin.

and when matt guides you into the shower, where you blow him and then he takes you from behind—treating you to another orgasm, you don't think you ever want to leave.

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