#flutter contact number

[fluttertutorialhub]

How to get a contact list from your phone in Flutter

Do you need to get a phone number, name, or email from the contact list on your phone in Flutter? If yes, it is a very easy way to implement this functionality in your Flutter project. Sometimes you need this kind of functionality for a client project or personal project development. For that, you need to create a Flutter contact list. It covers everything you need to know, including how to access phone contacts and display them in a list view.

[hellokittyish]

part one here.

★ thinking about mutual masturbation on facetime with ex!satoru which starts off with you just staring at him in some sort of daze, wondering what on earth possessed you to pick up the call in the first place. this is a mistake, you know that... so why aren't you hanging up already?

but before you can dwell too long on the answer to that question, your train of thought is rudely interrupted by a particularly loud moan echoing through the speaker.

“mmh… you actually didn’t decline for once," the white-haired menace gasps out, the slick sounds of his hand gliding up and down his cock only picking up in volume as he lays eyes on you. “shit— you don't know how much i've missed seein’ that pretty face of yours, baby.”

“you’re so shameless, satoru.” you mutter, lacing your tone with as much disdain as you can muster; but the way your own hand somehow snakes its way beneath the waistband of your sweatpants and into your panties tells an entirely different tale of how this whole situation is really making you feel.

“yeah,” he muses in an unapologetic hum, making a show of tilting the camera down to give you a better view of where he's currently thumbing his leaky, blushing tip. “but… ah— so are you, otherwise you would’ve blocked my new number the second i sent you that dick pic.”

“w-well how do you know i wasn't about to press the block button right when you called me and i accidentally clicked accept instead?” you shoot back through teeth which are clenched partly in annoyance and partly in an effort to hold back letting your own pleasure show on your face.

“nah, don’t give me that bullshit,” satoru snorts amusedly, leaning in closer to the screen and tilting his head to the side, snowy lashes fluttering seductively as his bright eyes stare knowingly into yours. “if you’re not enjoying this, then i want you to show me that your hands aren’t in your pants right now rubbing that pretty little pussy.”

shit. of course he'd be able to see through you that easily — he is your ex, after all. but no... you can’t let him win just yet. so, as subtly as possible, you pull your hand from your panties and hold it up to the phone screen, hoping against hope that the darkness of your room hides the wetness of your palm.

“hah. nice try, baby,” he drawls smugly, smiling so wide now that both of his annoyingly cute dimples are on full display; and it’s deliberate, too. he knows full well they were always your weakness. “...but i can see your sweet juices coating those cute fingers from here.”

and he knows he has you right where he wants you when you still don't hang up the call like you both know you should, instead just shoving your hand right back into your panties and rubbing messy circles over your clit while keeping direct eye-contact with him — trying to beat him at his own game, are you? oh, how he's missed you.

so he picks up the pace of his jostling fist around his cock, candy-pink lower lip caught between his pearly teeth as he tries to catch even a small glimpse of your bare skin through the screen; and god, only you could make him act this pathetic, this desperate. "fuck... please, pretty, y'gotta give me something to work with here. h-how about you pull your top up just a little for toru, hm?"

and you've already let this escalate too far to back out now, so you decide to throw caution to the wind and tug at the edge of your oversized tee just enough so that your bare tits spring free, courtesy to your preference for not wearing a bra around your apartment.

"o-oh, just look at those. i missed my girls s'much. bet you wish they were in my mouth right now, huh?" satoru rasps out, balls tightening to an almost painful degree as he reaches down to pay the heavy, neglected sacs some attention by gently fondling them.

and you, having finally caved and slid a finger into your fluttering hole, can only respond with a soft whine as you reach up to knead a breast with your free hand, the image of his skilled mouth suckling on them like he always used to making your much-too-empty cunt clench around your digit with need.

and that singular sweet, sweet sound from your lips that he's been deprived of hearing for months is all it takes for him to finally bust a load all over his chest and hand, goopy white streaks tainting his previously unmarred pale skin as his entire body trembles with a pleasure only you can give him.

and when he eventually manages to compose himself enough to glance back down at the facetime and realize that you're still trying to reach your own climax, your meek little fingers clearly not enough to finish the job, satoru has the absolute audacity to lean right in close to the screen and mutter out a cheeky…

“hey, if y'want me to come over and help you with that then all you gotta do is agree to get back together with me, baby.”

taglist: @haruhatake @sheismaryy @jxeon @bonneyzsk @yozora7154 @depositodeporradogojo @ifyournameischoisanpleaseloveme @anthy-j-ander @sugarcoatedsoul @moncher-ire @fwxyz00 @trishiepo0 @just-lilita @beenathembo @channnee @tul1ps1 @awoodsysimp411 @vera4luv @silllly-jokesterr @mastermasterlist1p1 @yourfaveava @rllyobsessedgirlie @cherrycel @tomiokas-lunchbox @iwaizumisloverrr @citruswriter @jasminelee324 @kocho-catt @azewritessillystuff @suggestmename @greentea-ellie @banksxxnik @feelingtoosilly @nepotti @nonamevenus @barking4dogs-fy @mihoonz @crazytrash @phoenixflames498 @starlightmid @k0z3me @cakenpiewhyohmy @wh1msycal @resfrio @ersharyzst @loveyislost @supernovacoffeestop @ying47

[superhoeva]

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.

© 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐚

[gf2bellamy]

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, checking the time. “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 familiar 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—warm, genuine. 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.

And then—

“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.

[monstersholygrail]

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.

[suiana]

✎ 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.

[mv1simp]

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 ♥️♥️

[angelicjackles]

— [ 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.

[hannyoontify]

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 ^-^

[biblio-smia]

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."

[cuteandhughesy]

Tripping, Falling With No Safety Net | Matt Rempe (part 2)

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

warnings: NSFW! kissing | masturbation (f) | sex toys (reader and matt use a vibrator) | smut | brief oral (f receiving) | mentions of blowjobs | unprotected p in v intercourse | cum play if you squint | mature dialogue and themes | read at your own discretion

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)

───────── 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.

"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.

[teddybeartoji]

18+ mdni; gn!reader + piss kink

you love following toji around the house while talking his ears off. he's making his coffee and you're drinking, telling him about the book you've been reading. he's watching the tv and you're curled on his lap, whispering fun facts about the movie that's playing on the screen. he's doing pushups and you're laying down beside him, counting his reps for him (you mess up the numbers just to have him roll his eyes at you with a smirk.)

whatever room he's in – you're there. he can't get rid of you but it's not like he even wants that. he likes the attention, he loves how much you want his. and he loves listening you, so he really doesn't mind. he thinks of you like a little kitten, jogging after him the second he pushes himself off the couch. it's sweet.

until—

he marches into the bathroom and you're right on his heel, rambling about your day. toji looks at you through the mirror, curious as to when you're going to realize that you're now in the bathroom with him. but he doesn't say anything other than a little raspy "yeah?" at whatever you just said.

he stands in front of the toilet and raises the lid while watching you plop down onto the counter right next to him without a care in the world. he raises a brow, his scarred lip quirking up into a sly smirk.

your eyes are on him. you're smiling, too.

you know exactly what you're doing.

toji's hands unbuckle his belt and unbutton his pants, all while keeping eye-contact. he wants to see how far you're willing to go.

you don't stop talking; cocking your head to the side and leaning forward, you tempt him. he doesn't miss the way your thighs press together and the way you bite down on your lip. you're not smooth at all. that only makes him love you even more – you're just as nasty as he is.

it's getting harder and harder to keep your eyes on his now though... he has pulled down his pants and underwear and you wanna look at it. your sentences are drawn out, your words are starting to mix up.

"c'mon, keep going."

you wanna hate how smug he is. how cocky, how arrogant. but you can't, because the only thing you can think about right now is taking his fat cock balls deep down your throat. your lips part at the thought and toji groans under his breath.

sweetly fluttering your eyelashes at him, you continue mumbling about your day. you can't surpress the hum that crawls up from the depths of your stomach when you finally hear the steady stream of piss hitting the toilet bowl.

you break eye-contact and his chest swells with pride. he can hear your breath hitch, he can almost see your mouth salivate.

"well, aren't you a little pervert, hm?"

your gazes meet again and he expects you to pout at him like you usually do, but no – not this time. lips curling up in a syrupy, sugary way, you purr at him. "ya love it."

toji growls. you're trying to kill him, surely. your eyes are low but still as playful as ever, your thighs pressing together even harder to relieve the growing need between them.

his eyebrows raise when you suddenly jump off the counter and take your place right beside him. eyes glued to his, you blindly reach for his hardening cock. tugging at the nape of his neck with your free hand, you pull him down and press your lips against his. you feel him grin, you feel him twitch in your hand.

he's so warm and he's so big; you give him a few slow, lazy strokes before tucking him back inside his underwear. he tries to pull away from the kiss, clearly a little confused by your actions, but you don't let him.

you nip at his bottom lip and he groans into your mouth. you give his now clothed bulge two very light taps and then you're the one that's pulling away, leaving him chasing after you.

giving him a giggle, you back up and jump back onto the counter. he can't believe you – you really are a little minx, sitting pretty before him while he's now hard and needy with new, hot ideas flooding his mind.

he wants to know what other dirty things you're thinking about, what other fucked up things you'll do for him. what he'll do for you.

— you're in for a long, long night.

[rabotimagines]

"Toping you when they usually bottom" GN BOT Reader x Jazz, Prowl, Thundercracker, Soundwave

Summary: First time the bots top you when you usually top them.

Warnings: None.

Genere/Theme: Smut 🔞 MDNI

G1 characters: Jazz, Prowl, Thundercracker, Soundwave.

Notes: Reader bottoms for the first time. Bot reader so valve/spike used.

Pronouns: You, your, yours.

Jazz is a true no leaning switch himself. He expertly folds to fit his partners likes and wants. Jazz isn't too fixated on topping or bottoming, really. He just wants to have fun and share the moments with you. So he's not exactly bemoaning or anything about not topping you yet. ... But it's his creation day, and you ask him if he wanted anything particular, and he leans real close to you, smiles, and asks, "Let me eat your valve out?" Which leads to his current residence between your thighs, with him working you through your third overload of the night with his glossia. Jazz always gives oral like he's on a mission, and tonight wasn't any different. Jazz loves making you fall apart for him. Shame you didn't let him do it more often. He pulls away when you stop shaking from overload number three. "Let me just say... I love my gift." Jazz smiles easy and nuzzles his cheek against your inner thigh.

"Jazz -" the pitch in your tone makes him pause to make proper optical contact with you. Your expression was serious with no room for argument. Jazz fully expects you to tap out for the night when the last thing he expects sounds out of you. "Spike me."

Jazz's jaw sets, and he's on his pedes at a startling speed. "Oh baby can do-" his array pops opens and his spike pressurizes properly. He savors the sight of your dripping valve under his spike before sliding home easily due to how aroused you were. "Frag- Really spoiling me today, huh?" Jazz huffed a laugh, enjoying how you felt fluttering around him. Jazz doesn't wait to start thrusting in lazy but deep motions. Making sure to bottom out every time he did so. Jazz hoists your pedes up onto his pauldrons and traps you against him and his berth.

Jazz's pace picks up till he overloads with a sharp invent. Jazz groans at the feeling of spilling inside you, his hips lazily rolling against yours through it.

You're both venting against one another until Jazz eventually picks up his pace again. Hips soon snapping like they had been before. You jerk and grasp at Jazz's armor tight, your optics are deliciously bright while huffs and gasps slipped outta you. Valve still taking his spike so nicely. "Got two more overloads to go! Need to- catch up with you, Sweetspark." Course Jazz was planning on catching up again if he got you to overload again- and again-

It was unlikely, but Jazz really hopes he breaks before you do.

-

With Prowl, it's a touch- complicated. You didn't really "Top" so to speak before this point- but neither had he. Prowl didn't like losing control on the battlefield or in the berth. You just so happened to be the same. So you'd both begun with servo and mouth activities, with most times it leading to hot and heavy frottage. Most often, it would end with you both usually rutting against one another like a pair of aggressive cyber hounds. Yes, Prowl would like to overload in your valve, but he also wasn't exactly thrilled at the prospect of the opposite. So Prowl knew he had no right to ask you to do the same. You found a middle ground regardless, and it worked.

Prowl didn't count on it occurring, but it does end up happening when you're grinding against one another again. Both of your servos are over each other's spikes, jerking up and down at a steady pace. Prowl is already close to his own overload- only you end up releasing your own spike and shift, pushing your hips upwards. Prowl hissed in a vent and glanced down at where the head of his spike was now slotting against the folds of your valve. When he glances back up he was met by your bright optics  "Prowl, if you don't spike me right now I'm leaving-" Prowls optics widen and he grasps at your armor and snaps his hips harshly. His spike bottoming out inside you with a gasp. Prowl vents harsh at the sensation of your valve wrapped around him.

Prowl frags you harsh against the berth, his chassis coming down and pressing hard against your own. Much too pent up from thinking he'd never be inside your valve like this and already much too close to overloading. Your servos grasp tight on the base of his doorwings, and Prowl groans. His hips buck harder and harder, trying to savor the hot rush it is. Eventually, you squeeze his doorwings, and Prowl overloads only to keep fragging you both right through it. His transfluid makes a mess of your inner thighs in the process. Until Prowl eventually bottoms out inside you and stilled. Prowl began huffing in panted vents.

He pulled back a touch, the sound of you huffing brings his optics back to your cobalt tinted faceplate. The after effects of a hardy valve overload are still obviously rocking through your frame.

Maybe Prowl could... offer to return the favor. Especially if it raised the chance of you doing the same afterward.

-

Thundercracker kinda does mind, but he also doesn't know how to bring it up. He didn't hate bottoming or anything he just really wants to top you more- or at all. He's got a spike, and he wants to frag you into the dirt with it. The problem is Thundercracker isn't going to say that, and he doesn't exactly know what he's supposed to say about it. So he elects he'll say something when he finds the chance. You're in Thundercrackers lap, glossia in his mouth with your modesty panels pulled back, grinding on one another. And in the heat of it, Thundercracker lifts your hips and drags the length of his spike across the opening of your valve. Your valve lubricant coats his spike, and he gasps at the feeling.

You only jolt and break away to stare down, and Thundercracker lately realizes what he'd just done. But this was the perfect chance to ask, right?

Thundercracker grabs your hips and tentatively lines his spike up with your valve. "Can I?" He asks stupidly, and Thundercracker is immediately regretting how he'd asked that. Why did he do that- Before he can rip into himself mentally, you wordlessly grabbed his pauldrons and started lowering your valve on his spike- and Oh Pit! He's inside you now- Thundercracker hissed a vent at the sensation of you dropping down his length. Digits grasped tight on your hip armor when you sat back in his lap, spike now fully inside you. Oh, you feel Perfect- slag. You squeezing down on him every time you vented made Thundercracker feel hazy.

Your digits abruptly dig into the sensitive base of his wings and Thundercracker keens and spills inside you. Thundercracker groans and ruts against you in short motions through his own overload. Thundercracker can feel his optics brighten fast and harshly in mortification when realization sets in. You're staring at where his own transfluid is now spilling down into Thundercrackers lap. Thundercracker opens his mouth to apologize, but all that comes out is a sharp grunt when you grind down in Thundercrackers' lap. Thundercrackers digits dig hard enough in your own waist the metal wants to try to give and you still. Thundercracker huffs and makes optic contact with you. "Wanna overload in me again?" You casually ask, apparently much too forgiving for Thundercracker.

Thundercracker nods fast a quick. "Yes." Sounding out of him, very glad you were giving him a chance to redeem himself. He genuinely did not know what he'd do with himself if that was his one experience with your valve.

Here's to hoping (and praying) he didn't frag up round two.

-

Soundwave is a true verse normally. But he's frankly so tired from war efforts that he barely has the energy to interface, let alone top most days. He doesn't have a problem indulging you with his valve when he's feeling lazy but still wants to sexually satisfy you. Yes, Soundwave would like to spike you more often or once even. But the days and battles take up most of his energy and free time. One day, you have a mission, and it ends with Soundwave pissed after stupid battlefield decisions that made the entire battle drag on much longer than needed. You were in group A and had a much easier time than Soundwaves group B during the mission. He enters his habsuite to find you already laying face down on his berth, having let yourself in.

Soundwave walks over and doesn't hesitate to straddle, and full-on shoves his faceplate flat on the back of your chassis. Eventually, his servos start wandering with his earlier frustrations feeding his continued touches. Soundwave skipped tracing and moved to fondling and pulling on your frame. Soundwave sees your modesty panel where your valve would be visible to him. he's digging his digits into your hips already. "Permission to spike?" You grant him it and pull your array back, and Soundwave doesn't hesitate to spike you then and there.

Soundwave would usually take his time to savor you or this, but Soundwaves frustrated. And you at least seem content taking that frustration for him. He'll have to reward you later for it, but right now, he's slamming himself into your valve from behind over and over again. "Soundwave- spike!" you muttered and- Ah- he sees. Your spike can't pressurize right with you flat on his berth. Soundwave pulls your hips up a touch, and your spike pressurizes instantly. Soundwave then snaps his hips hard enough to frag you back flat on his berth. Your spinal strut arched and your servos gripped at his berth for some type of purchase. You squeeze down on him, and Soundwave realizes he's about to overload. Soundwaves servos abandon your thighs, and he reaches over further to press his digits over your mouth.

Soundwave groans deep when you wordlessly take two of his digits in and start sucking. Your glossia laps along them with a hum and Soundwave bottoms out and promptly overloads inside you. You overload right after him, which makes Soundwave only press you harder into his berth. Your valve is twitching around his spike length as you come down from both your combined post overload high. You huff when Soundwave pulls his now oral lubricant soaked digits out of your mouth.

Soundwave might have to adjust his schedule and make the time so he can spike you again like this.

[dykeadvocate]

nightly meetings

pairing: demon!ellie williams x fem!reader

summary: you don't know her name or what she even is, but you do know that when she visits you, she will have her way with your body.

content: top!ellie, bottom!reader, monster fucking, fingering (r receiving), cunnilingus (r receiving), somnophilia, a demon fucking reader.

masterlist | about me | discord

You woke with a startle. She was there; you could feel her presence. Your bleary eyes searched for her in your dark bedroom and once you found her, your heart dropped a little.

She was the devil. At least, that's what you thought she was.

She didn't visit you often, perhaps once a month, but each time she did, you know what she wanted.

"Did you miss me?" Her voice sounded like a sin. It was seductive and made your thighs subconsciously clench together, but it also made you feel fear.

"I wouldn't say I miss waking up at-" You glanced at the glowing numbers on your clock, "3:02AM in the morning."

She smiled or attempted for a smile. It looked unnatural on her. Almost like she wasn't made to feel joy.

She appeared at your bed, making you jump. You forget that her movement is different from that of a human.

Her cold finger hooked around your chin, pulling your face to meet hers. She studied you for a few short seconds before smashing her lips into yours.

The way she kissed you is unexplainable. When her lips are on yours, you feel things that you haven't felt before, and it's fucking incredible.

"Please."

You didn’t know what you're begging for, but she understood.

You were stripped from your clothes and pushed onto your back. Her lips didn’t leave your body as she made her way downwards. You spread your thighs, inviting her.

She settled between your thighs, wrapping her arms around them to keep you from closing them. Her strength is like no other, even if you desperately wanted to close your thighs, you wouldn't be able to without her letting you.

You stifled a moan when her lips wrap around your clit, flicking and sucking lightly. She normally takes her time with you, but this time she didn’t.

She collected your slick on three of her fingers before pushing them into you. Your back arched and you whimper at the unfamiliar intrusion.

Her spare hand rubbed at your hips in a comforting way. Non-verbally telling you that you're doing good for her.

"It hurts." You cried, "Slower, please."

Your pleas went ignored. They always do.

Her fingers curled perfectly, reaching the pleasurable spot others had always failed to reach. Her tongue continued to harshly flick over your clit.

A guttered moan escaped your lips. The way she navigated your body was heaven. She knew how to get you to the brink of an orgasm in a few pathetic minutes.

"God, I'm so close."

You squealed when she slapped your hip, a frown settling over her face. You forget she doesn't like when you use that word.

Her eyes were trained on yours. You normally hated making eye contact, but with her, you couldn't will yourself to look away. She was mesmerising.

With one more flick of her tongue, you were gushing over her fingers. You grasped onto the bedsheets and your toes curled as your orgasm washed over you. Your eyes fluttered closed as you tried to come down from your high.

You knew once you opened your eyes that she would be gone, but that's okay, she would come back in a month, she always does.

•

@mystellenia

[viiennie]

mdni 18+

Frontman! Gojo Satoru whose eyes stay stuck on you the moment you enter the facilities with that gorgeous face and those pretty doe eyes.

Frontman! Gojo Satoru who thinks literally everything you do is adorable, each bounce to your step, each flutter of your eyelashes, and each tiny smile you send everyone you make eye contact with sends butterflies to his stomach, his heart pulsing with adornment.

Frontman! Gojo Satoru who can't help himself, not having the power to just watch you through a screen. He needs to be closer to you. He needs to be the one you're smiling at, the one you depend on no matter what. He just has to have you.

Frontman! Gojo Satoru who approaches you first, a friendly smile on his face as he introduces himself. He swears he melts on the spot when he finally gets to hear your voice in person. He almost feels bad when you finally enter the first game, the sparkle in your eyes telling him you definitely weren't prepared for what's to come.

Frontman! Gojo Satoru feels guilt gnaw his heart at the sight of your terrified expression when the first person for the season meets their end, bullet in their skull with the blood splattering on your cheek. He makes sure you stay behind his towering frame after realizing you couldn't control your trembling after that.

Frontman! Gojo Satoru who comforts you after the red light green light game, arms wrapped around your trembling body as he whispers words of assurance into your ears.

Frontman! Gojo Satoru, who if he said he didn't take pleasure in the way you looked so small and helpless, then he'd be lying.

“W-what do I do Gojo? I-I’m pregnant too! My baby..” Your hands rest on your belly, the bump not being obvious because of the fact that you were only 3 months along. You were scared. So scared for both you and your baby’s safety. Had you known this game included losing lives, then you would’ve gladly burnt that card the recruiter gave you and endured poverty if it meant being alive with your child. 

Frontman! Gojo Satoru who feels his dick straining in his pants for some reason at the news of you being with child. He knows it’s the worst time to be popping a boner, but how can he control himself when you look so pretty with tears running down your face? How can he help himself when he imagines fucking you raw and deep with your pretty baby bump showing underneath that annoyingly thick jacket? He groans, biting his lip to stop himself from daydreaming, “Don’t worry pretty, I’ll protect you and your baby, yeah?”

Frontman! Gojo Satoru who thinks it’s the cutest thing ever when you tell him you wanna try befriending the other pregnant woman, hoping a bond would form between the two of you. He encourages you, giving you advice on how to start a conversation before gently pushing you toward player number 222.

Frontman! Gojo Satoru who takes the chance to slip away while you and everyone else is distracted during break time, instructing all his pink soldiers to be gentle with you, and to make sure to specifically give you food that was good for pregnant women. 

Frontman! Gojo Satoru who is surprised when you wake him up in the middle of the night, asking him to come with you to the bathroom because you really, really needed to go but you were also too scared to go alone. He chuckles at your cuteness, easily agreeing to your demands before accompanying you to the said bathrooms.

Frontman! Gojo Satoru who’s even more surprised when you pull him into one of the stalls in the women’s bathroom, your lips crashing against him in a messy attempt to makeout. He thinks it’s so endearing how you whisper to him about your raging hormones and how you just can’t take it anymore. 

Frontman! Gojo Satoru who doesn’t waste time to plunge his fingers deep inside you, the squelching noises further keeping him motivated to give you your sweet release. The way your knees quiver and your arms cling onto him for balance sends blood rushing straight to his dick, moans and whines leaving his lips, only to be muffled by your own.

Frontman! Gojo Satoru who's got shivers going up his spine when he finally buries his cock deep inside your sore pussy, hips stuttering in movement as he tries to be gentle with you, reminding himself that you're pregnant and he couldn't be as rough as he wanted.

Frontman! Gojo Satoru, who resolve breaks down when you whine into his ears for more, for him to go harder and not to hold back because it felt so good. He's now got you in a full nelson, burying his cock balls deep into your pretty cunt without an ounce of hesitation.

Frontman! Gojo Satoru who makes sure to take care of you well after several rounds, cleaning you up with his tongue and brushing out your messy hair with his fingers. He finds himself smiling at the way you blink sleepily in his arms. He's definitely going to whisk you away after these games are finished.

[lapbaby]

♰ sevikas obsession with watching you ⋆₊˚

description: kind of nsfw drabble about sevika who can’t get enough of your every move.

cw: suggestive, no smut, horny tho, pet names (baby, doll), reader wears a dress + is implied to be feminine, gendered terms (girl, etc) , reader “flips her hair” at one point

a/n: too lazy to write a fanfic right now so have this instead. as always please submit requests if you have any.

MINORS DNI.

Sevika watched you every time you came into the bar, eyes trained on your every move. Every time you laughed at something some sleazy guy said, clearly trying to swindle more drinks out of them. Every time you fluttered between the jukebox, to the tables, and back to the bar again. It was her favourite pastime.

Her eyes would linger so directly, so intensely, everyone at her table could feel it. If the way she repeatedly disregarded her hand of poker to watch you instead wasn’t obvious enough.

She loved when you got wilder and more carefree as the night progressed, a gradual but steady change that happened without fail every time. It revealed things about you, made her feel like she knew you through those little cracks in your party girl facade. Your skin slowly got hotter and hotter, little hairs sticking to your face and neck. Each drink made you feel looser as you transitioned from swaying slowly to the music to dancing, hips rotating to the rhythm of the song, enjoying yourself. Not one person in that joint was good enough for you. Couldn’t give you what you needed. Well, except for one. Her.

She could give you what you wanted, what you craved. You were only there for one thing. For someone to take care of you.

And it’s not like you didn’t notice her. Oh, you did. How could you not notice someone like her as soon as you step into a room? Her presence commanded the attention of everyone in attendance. It didn’t matter if she was storming through the building toward Silco’s office, having a drink at the bar, or sitting with her legs spread and a stack of cards clamped in her flesh hand like she was now, everyone saw her and you were definitely no exception.

The first time you caught sight of her, she was hustling over to a reserved table in the back, powerful muscles rippling with every movement. You needed to know her name. You turned to the bartender (Chuck, was it?) and asked him.

“Who’s that?” You gestured vaguely with your head in the direction of the imposing woman.

“That’s Sevika, Silco’s number two. I’d stay away from her if I was you, sweetheart.”

Over time, you loved reciprocating, staring back just as fiercely every time you noticed her. The urge to tease her from across the room was irresistible and you indulged in it. You intentionally licked your lips after every sip of your fruity drink, wore short short skirts just so you could show yourself off to her, whispered naught things in the ears of strangers at the bar, all while maintaining heady eye contact. You couldn’t help yourself with the addictive way her attentions made you feel, warm and breathless.

And you knew she loved it too, even when her jaw visibly clenched and the cards in her hand were squashed in her tight grip.

What you didn’t love was the waiting. The both of you would stare at each, practically fucking with your eyes, but neither one of you did anything about it. It was almost as if Sevika wanted you to beg for it, crawl to her on your hands and knees and plead for her to help you, take you, touch you. And you, well, you were just too damn stubborn for that.

So after countless nights of skirting around it, you took one last sip of your drink and marched toward the throng of bodies writhing and gyrating to the music.

If she wasn’t going to give in first, fine. You’d just have to make her.

It started off slow, closing your eyes and losing yourself in the music. The beat, heavy and pulsing, jumped in your ears and thrummed through your whole body. You tossed your hair over your shoulder as you moved in a tight, rhythmic circle, surrounded by flushed, sweaty bodies.

Your fingertips brushed against your skin, gliding up, up, up the length of your thighs. The urge to open your eyes and find hers, which were no doubt watching your every move, was overwhelming. But you steeled your resolve and continued this push and pull, rolling your hips much more purposefully now.

The relentless flickering shades of purple and blue cast an otherworldly glow across your sweaty flesh. Darkness, light, darkness, light again. You swivelled in Sevikas direction, knowing she was watching you, and of course she was. Her eyes were buried beneath furrowed brows, those deep pools of brown recognisable even with the distance between you. Every flash of light revealed her gaze again, increasingly torn between enjoying the view and stomping over to join you each time.

Slipping your eyes shut again, you decided to finish the show. Drive the nail straight into the coffin. And the closest idiot would have to do.

He was tall, brown hair, plain, not bad looking but definitely not who you really wanted. He was quick to follow your lead as you pulled him over, none too gently, by the arm and ground yourself right up against him, his hands floundering for a moment before you steadied them against your hips just like that.

Before you knew it he was gone, though. There was a flurry of movement and a little commotion, leaving you flustered and confused, but the big, solid wall of muscle that took his place immediately after told you all you needed to know. The thick, cloying smell of smoke and warm flesh surrounded you and you looked up, pleasantly unsurprised to find Sevika staring back down at you. The angle was a bit awkward and you couldn’t really see from the strobing lights but she looked a mixture of pissed and something else, her nose flared and extremely kissable mouth set in a frown.

The drinks, the music, the overstimulation of it all had your senses totally inebriated and your skin buzzing. You couldn’t help yourself from grinding back on her crotch, your skin meeting the cool, hard metal of her belt.

“Was waiting for you,” you said over the music.

She grunted, eyelids fluttering as she bumped against your ass repeatedly, assuming a senseless rhythm. Sevika leaned down to your height and spoke into the back of your ear.

“Can’t hear you, doll.”

Before you could reply, she began trailing little sucks and kisses down the skin of your neck. Your next response was breathy and jerky as you clenched your thighs together and leaned into her touch.

“Said I…w-was waiting for you to come take care of me.”

Sevika nodded and stilled your movements sharply with two large, firm hands on each hip.

“Let’s get out of here, baby, yeah?”

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