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daddyricsdoll · 8 months

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False God ✭ Max Verstappen

Summary: Being lost spiritually isn't something you can brag about, but finding a new belief in someone is. From that alluring man in the F1 paddock to finding out he's the Max Verstappen didn't effect you as much as discovering his lips are your new religion even if it's a false god.

Warnings: The use of y/n!! (I used it 2-3 times), unprotected sex (what else could you expect from me?), teasing, reader is a virgin, mirror sex, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, creampie, praise, and use of names (good girl), also overstimulation and dacyphilia. I don't know if taking a photo of a naked person counts as a warning or spoiler, I guess it's both.

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: Based off of this request. I would also like to thank @mrsevansxstanxobrien for saving me by giving me a perfect storyline for this. 🧡 And also all everyone who waited for this. I feel like adding more at the end, maybe a part two.

Never would I have ever thought I’d wear this dress. But I’ve been lost, and these girls are helping me become found. I’m not used to the material leaving my shoulders exposed and ending before my knees. Some of my family wouldn’t approve, but I feel… pretty. I would’ve worried that my place in heaven might slowly crumble but now, I don’t know.

I feel so happy and people are looking at me. In my little white dress, the one that hugs my torso and sways around my thighs, loose straps hung above my shoulders.

This feels like heaven. Being in a place I’ve never heard of with my friends as they pull me to different small buildings. “Come on!! We have to find any driver we can. If you see one, tell me!” Lissie smiles, eyes shooting everywhere just like my other two friends.

“I don’t know what any of the drivers look like.” I say my words with worry but chuckles lacing them.

“If you see a good looking guy with people around him, then tell me.” I laugh hearing others agree.

“Oh specifically if they wear red or orange- Ferrari and McLaren drivers, oh even Mercedes which is black.”

“Ok… I’ll try.” Feeling uncertain about this whole thing but I nod. Walking through the paddock and turning my head at every man that would emit a good thought into my head. They looked at me too and I prayed to god hoping it weren't for the wrong reasons.

My friends quickly spotted a driver and we all got photos and signatures, his name was Charles last I recall and now I understand one of the reasons he has so many fans. He signed my paddock pass in record time and then sent us a remarkable smile.

We had to leave him and those dimples to jog the other way for drivers who had just finished FP2, meeting so many as my friends explained to me the whole purpose of this.

Some drivers walked in pairs making it all the more easier for us to capture a second with them.

I was getting one of my friends' hats signed by a driver called George when my eyes left his hand, looking into the crowd all around us. Somehow locking eyes with a stranger, he then looked me up and down a small smirk on his face.

And I could only do the same, my eyes travelled down his body, his jeans that hugged his thick thighs and red bull polo tight around his shoulders then hanging around the rest of his torso. I became flushed and looked away for a second to gain composure but when I looked back he wasn’t there. It was like he was a dream.

“Y/n, you good?” Lissie asked, checking in on me as I hadn’t realised they started walking again. “Oh, um yeah I got distracted. So who else do we have to find?”

“Great question, so I heard that Max is around here somewhere, he might be gone but still keep an eye out for him. And Alex, I love him with my whole heart but our telepathy isn’t telling me where he is.” We both laugh and it feels so good, the afternoon soon reaching the evening. She checks her watch and then looks back at me. “Oh, we have 3 hours until dinner so we can go back to the hotel, do things there, eat, party and then we’ll be back here tomorrow. Sounds good?” I couldn’t say no to that plan so we ended up going back to the hotel.

20 minutes of swimming in the empty hotel pool turned into nearly 2 hours and now we were running a little behind schedule. We rushed to get ready, but oh didn’t we still look good. “We’re gonna meet the other girls there.” Lissie tells me as we get seated in the back of a taxi, adjusting her makeup. I nod, turning my head to look out of the window, I hold the cross around my neck fiddling with it whenever I get too deep into my thoughts.

I cast eyes on many people today but that one guy, from the way he looked at me with a light smirk to the smallest tingling feeling he sent through my body. It was as if he tried to make out my whole personality in one glance, if only I could’ve done the same.

The scenario plays in my head multiple times, each time I react in a different way– my default ways of a smile or being a whole different person by sending him a smirk, or calling him over.

I know I shouldn’t worry about that, if worried is a word close to what I’m experiencing. But my thoughts make the ride shorter and we both hop out of the car, wearing outfits suitable for a restaurant and a dirty club right after. We stood just outside the restaurant waiting for Leah and Milan.

Taxi’s drove past and dropped people off, each one we looked into searching for those two girls. Then suddenly a car made an abrupt stop in front of us. The windows were tinted and it limited our vision inside of the car. Just until the door opened and a partially familiar figure started getting out of the car.

His face came into view and so many emotions ran through me in that second that Lissies scream was the only thing that brought me back. “It’s Max Verstappen! Oh my god! Can I get a photo or a signature or anything?!” She rushes toward him, searching her bag and finding a pen. I was still in shock, he is Max Verstappen?

Next thing I know he’s standing in front of me. “Would you like a photo or signature?” He asks me so kindly, making me wonder if he was the guy whose eyes roamed my body then smirked at me like he knew exactly how I’d react.

“I-um sure. Well I don’t really have anything to sign.” And then a piece of paper is passed to me from Lissie. “Oh, thanks.” I grab it and hold it out to Max, watching as he stares at my face long enough to memorise every inch. He looks away to sign my paper, taking longer than I would’ve thought, but when he gives me that smirk from earlier everything leaves my mind. He then starts walking away, getting interrupted by other fans.

Each step he took further away I wanted to say something even more, call him back, talk to him. But why and what for?

My eyes look down at the paper, his signature, but I see some of the pen ink on the other side, flipping the paper over my breath hitches at what’s written. “Be a good girl” I read, my eyes then following an arrow that points to his number. I lightly squeezed my legs together and tried to force the pink off my cheeks. I couldn’t help but stare at it in disbelief before quickly folding it and shoving it into my bag. “You good?” Lissie asks me.

“Yeah, just surprised.”

“I know, that was really unexpected but luckily we all got something from Max. I got a photo with him as well he looked so fucking good in that suit.”

She was right, he did look so good and that feeling he made me feel, oh it was stronger than before but a small fire between my legs also grew. I just hoped it wasn’t lust, especially for a man I just learnt the name of. ✭

The next morning we were back in the paddock, me being the only one not partially hungover by the drug of alcohol. We started walking past the red bull hospitality, my eyes flickering over to the door praying to see that one man. But my prayer wasn’t answered as FP3 started and I only saw him on a big screen.

Once FP3 finished we stayed in McLaren hospitality for a little while longer waiting to catch a glimpse of the two stars with the fastest lap times. And to our luck both of the Mclaren drivers walked in, but they weren’t the only ones, Max Verstappen walked beside Lando in his dark blue drivers suit. I ran up to them with my friends, letting them congratulate the drivers as I stood back. Not noticing one of the drivers leave until a feather touch of a hand was on my back. “You didn’t call or text me. And I thought you were gonna be my good girl.”

I took a deep breath, somehow knowing exactly whose voice it was.

“It’s gonna take more than that. But tell me… what do you really want?” My voice firmer and somehow trying to gain confidence like his, soon feeling even more flustered when I hear his chuckle beside me. “What do I want? Oh honey, I want you.” My lips part, trying to control my breathing through my mouth. His finger comes beneath my chin and my head is lifted to the side to face him. His fingers trickle down my chin and throat, reaching the cross that sits barely above my cleavage.

“What’s this?”

“It’s um…” I became lost for words, knowing exactly what I would’ve said but I can’t say it to him. He deserves so much more.

“I’m not into this stuff, gods and everything. They don’t really do much for you, but you give them everything.” I shake my head lightly, trying to show my disagreement but not make him want to leave me.

“Oh? My good girl doesn’t believe me?” The fake surprise on his face teases me. “Would your god let me touch you? Would he let me make you cry from my dick?” Max brings his face closer to mine, just enough for his breath to touch my ear. His large hands run down my arms and he grabs a hold of my phone.

“Unlock it.” He commands me, crystal blue eyes hypnotising me. And without a question, I unlocked it.

“Now you have no excuse to not call me.” He shows me his number in which he just typed into my contacts, calling it to watch his phone start ringing. “Now I have yours.” He saves my number, looking back up at me. “Now won’t you tell me your name?”

“Why? You’ll only call me your good girl.” My lips move faster than my mind. Not recognising my own words.

“My good girl, trying to be someone you’re not. Now, tell. Me. Your. Name.”

“Y/n.” I say watching a pleased smile on his perfect lips. And then just like last night he leaves me there, standing thinking about something bigger than the whole world—him. ✭

Up came the race day, the one in which the whole place was filled, park passes, hospitality and grandstands. We came in earlier than usual after the girls all somehow noticed the end of me and Max's last interaction. Going crazy and asking if there’s something between us, what his hands feel like, if I’m his new wag and will I see him after this all.

I thought about that last question longer. I don’t know if god brought us together or maybe he’s something here for something else, but I don’t usually enjoy having no clue what’s going on, so I plan on finding out.

We find a seat in hospitality and when I finally gain the courage to send Max a text I see that he’s beat me to it.

‘You’re not my good girl anymore’

‘Why don’t you come to redbull and I’ll show you what you really are’

I become flushed at his words, squeezing my legs together. Checking the time he sent the message I curse at myself for not seeing it earlier. We have nearly half an hour left until the race and all the drivers are with their teams. I couldn’t possibly go now, so I blame myself for not being able to touch his skin or hear his voice before the race.

So instead I send him a text, replying to the ones he had sent.

‘How about you win the race and I’ll be your good girl’

It barely takes a minute for the message to turn from delivered to read. He starts typing then stops, typing again then stopping. He teases me with that for what feels like hours, until I finally receive something.

‘Be ready, once I’m done you won’t be able to say your name.’

I was speechless, leaving his message on read, letting him know he already stole all the words from me. I turn my phone off, watching the last few pre race interviews before I see Max walk past behind a crowd of people. A tiny smirk on his face, I smile knowing it was for me.

My emotions throughout the whole race were a rollercoaster. Watching a crash between 3 drivers had me praying they were all ok and that it would never come across Max. There were battles all over the circuit, Max managing to never be a part of any as he led the race. I was surprised at how fast the race went by, from complaining about the length of them to now letting the time run right past.

My friends pulled me away once the race ended, telling me we had to watch the podium. And I was glad I let them take me. I watched max from below, majestic being the word to explain him. He wore his suit and sweat trickled on him, hair swept to the side like always. His eyes so soft I couldn’t imagine he was the same man that threatened to make me cry from his dick. I’m not complaining but he looked so content, so happy with himself and he never had needed God's validation.

Everything in my head seems to become blurry, Max’s smile the only thing still keeping me here. I manage to find his eyes, remembering the blue of it from the first time. His lips change and I’m certain I see his signature smirk, just for me.

When both of the national anthems finish they start spraying champagne, becoming my queue to escape to the red bull hospitality. I didn’t have any clue where to go so I waited for him outside the building.

His teammate Checo walked past me, giving me a smile like I was any fan and then a crowd of people were making their way here. All following the man himself, Max Verstappen. He sees me standing there, that one smirk arises on his face before he whispers something to the woman beside him, probably his assistant or something, because once they reach me she smiles and then takes me to his driver's room as Max finishes with all the fans.

I take in the surroundings, the room being small but big enough to fit the things he needs. A decent sized bathroom and a mirror being the door of his cupboard filled with redbull polos, which seem to be the only thing he wears.

“You going through my stuff, doll?” I turn at the noise, seeing Max walk into the room and start unzipping his racing suit.

“No, you left me in a room alone, what else am I to do?”

He chuckles and walks closer to me, his suit now hanging around his waist. He comes closer, nearly caging me into the wall with his body. A few strands of his hair fell and now hang between the two of us. I have nowhere to go, not like I’d ever want to leave, but it’s not like he’d let me.

“I won.” He breathes out.

“And now I’m your good girl.” Max shakes his head, chuckling as his arm rests on the wall above my head.

“You’re not a good girl… but I’m gonna make you one.” He moves his head closer to mine, nearly touching my skin with his lips but he doesn’t make contact. Teasing me by going along my face and down my neck. So close I can feel his breath, but he never touches me. Trailing across my collar bone as I try to ease my breathing.

I lightly arch my back, bringing my chest closer to him, trying to force the contact. But then he stops. He grabs my pendant, the one of a cross.

“You’ve been worshipping the same man for years, would it bring you to hell to worship another? Let’s say… me.”

I don’t have time for a reaction as he smashes his lips into mine, taking my breath away. His hands cup either side of my face, holding me in place as he kisses my lips in a way no other person has before. My body writhes against the wall, having no clue what to do but touch him. Try and touch him in a way no person ever has and ever will.

That my religion is his lips.

I lean into his touch when his hand reaches up my shirt, not touching my breasts yet, but caressing the skin of my back and waist. Max groans into my mouth, lighting a fuse between my legs that I tried to keep out.

My nails dig into his shoulders, fireproof still tight along his body. I can’t control my body, wanting to feel every inch of him against and inside me.

“If you wanna be a good girl, then you can wait.” I whine at his words when his lips leave me. My chest still arched and body screamed with need. “I don’t want you to move.” He tells me, eyes a darker shade and voice commanding. I nod my head quickly, hoping the faster I am, he will be. “So needy.” Max chuckles almost as if he’s teasing me of wanting him so much.

He starts closing the gap between us, standing directly in front of me and looking down because of our heights. I grow accustomed to the heat his body spreads and the pink of his post-race cheeks. Falling for his looks before his touch steals my attention. His fingers slide down the side zip of my short skirt, pulling it down my legs until it reaches the floor. He pushes my legs apart with his foot and my pussy pulses with anticipation.

I observe him as his fingers don’t go close to where I need him, instead doing the job of taking my top off of me. I lift my arms up to help him, feeling the cool air of the room brush against my body.

“Take the rest off.” He tells me, standing back to watch my whole body. Eyes skimming me from top to bottom. My skin turned hot, a mix of emotions making me react in different ways. I nod, slowly taking my clothes off. Smiling to myself when I see Max brush a hand against the bulge in his suit.

Once my panties and bra lay on the floor Max finally comes back. Hands gliding down my arms and then intertwining with my fingers. He guides each of my arms above my head, giving him full access to my body. Making me more vulnerable than I’ve ever been.

The pads of his thumbs barely touch my nipples, forcing a whine out of my mouth and my chest to press into him. He pulls away immediately, draining his contact from me. And then he comes again, sliding his fingers over my nipples and I have to force myself to stay still.

Max’s fingers tickle down my bare body, he goes between my cleavage and caresses my breasts with the light touch of his finger tips. Soon going over my stomach and my lower abdomen. He delays the contact to my core and starts tracing my hip bones with each hand, slipping to my backside as he cups my ass with his hands.

“Fuck.” He mutters. Moving his hands from my backside to start lightly touching my thighs. Max advances to the inside of my thighs, spreading my legs a little wider, making it easier for his eyes and fingers. My lips parted long ago and breathing became uneven. Suspense ran through my veins as I felt the heat from his fingers approach my core.

I was certain my arousal was close to dripping on his fingers, and then he finally touched me. Not as firm as I wanted, but his fingers still make contact. Teasing my clit as his eyes are on me, watching as my bottom lip is drawn between my teeth.

The feeling was so new to me, I had never been touched by a man like this. Do I regret it, not really, because that would mean Max wouldn’t be the first.

A loud moan rips the silence of the room, the filthy sound leaving my mouth. His middle finger runs between my folds and I flinch at the feeling, letting the moan leave my mouth freely watching as Max smiles.

My climax surely builds up from his teasing strokes.

I then lose the feeling of his fingers, a cry leaving my mouth. “Be my good girl and show me how you make yourself cum.”

“I thought you were gonna make me a good girl. But I guess you’re not as good as I thought.” I slide my hand down my body, going down the trail between my legs. My eyes firm on Max as many emotions run across his face. I touch my clit and be sure to moan louder and longer than when Max touched me. My eyes were closed that I didn’t see as Max made his way closer, but his loud steps were enough.

My hand his forces off my body and held above my head. Max’s other hand now occupying the job he told me to do myself. He doesn’t take his time now. Thrusting two digits inside of me with force. “I’ll make you cum. Give me a number.”

“Three.” I whine out between each of his thrusts, focusing on the harsh face he gives me.

“Fuck, making it so easy for me. I already made you cum once.” He chuckles at the confusion on my face. Pulling his fingers out of me and showing me my cum that moves down them. I moan at the sight, then once again as he shoves them in his mouth. My eyes stuck on his tongue as he circles each finger. When he pulls them out of his mouth a string of saliva is hanging from his fingertip. I watch as he brings his digits closer to my lips, telling me to open my mouth to get a taste of him.

Max slides his fingers out of my mouth and drags it down my body.

“Let’s do something new” Max says as he goes on his knees. Kneeling in front of me and making my pussy throb. He doesn’t say anymore words as he forces my legs on his shoulders. I clench my pussy as his breath brushes against it in such a way it’s a drug.

The words slow, leisurely and gentle out of his mind as he starts eating me out. Like a starved man and I’m a whole dinner. The sensation of his flat tongue against such a sensitive part of me makes me crazy. My fingers diving into his perfect hair to ruin it.

He toys with my clit and slides his tongue inside of me.

It hadn’t taken long until I was reaching my release. Pulling at his hair with force and whining so loud I’m sure people outside could hear. But that only made it more thrilling.

“So quick. But I’m not done.” Max says against my pussy before going back in. Bringing me to surprise. He licks and sucks all my cum, fingers coming back to ram inside of me as his tongue toys with my swollen clit.

He made tears come to my eyes and a moan mixed with a whine to leave my mouth as I came another time. Even more sensitive.

Max helps me get off his shoulders before standing up to peel every piece of fabric off his body. Once my eyes laid on his skin I could truly say the suit doesn’t give him justice.

My mouth watered at the sight of his cock. Making me question how easily he would fit.

“Come here.” Max demands. And I do, walking up to him just for him to tell me to get on my knees. I grow nervous as his dick now sits in front of my face and as I’m about to grab it Max tells me to do something completely different.

“Go on your hands and knees. And face the mirror.” I quickly do it, seeing myself in the thin mirror. I look further up to observe Max. He grabs my hips, lifting them up so they're in line with his.

I hold my breath as he brings his dick to my entrance. Circling it with his tip and watching me through the mirror. He distracts me with his signature smirk and then rams inside of me. Bottoming out immediately. My mouth opens in an ‘o’ shape as he takes my breath away with his dick. Pulling out and then thrusting back in with more power. His skin slapping against mine and tip viciously hitting my g-spot.

Max leans forward and grabs my hair in a makeshift ponytail, forcing my head up. “I want you to watch as I fuck all the words out of your mouth.”

My vision blurred by the tears, but I make out our figures. My tears fall as Max drives his dick into me once again.

“That’s it. Cry over my dick. So. Fucking. Good.” He grits between his teeth at each thrust. I look at myself, being utterly ruined by a man I met a couple of days ago. He keeps my head up, not daring to let my eyes leave the mirror. His bottom lip is between his teeth and eyebrows furrowed as he keeps in his moans. Letting mine fill the room instead.

I can barely hold up my body as I get closer to my climax. Clenching around Max multiple times before I finally release.

A string of unholy sounds escape my mouth and it’s as if they set off Max, ultimately allowing me to hear him moan just as I had done before.

Max twitches inside of me before he releases. Swearing in dutch before calling me a good fucking girl. His cum fills and distracts me as he pulls out. Demanding me to stay there.

I expect to see him walk out with a cloth, but instead his phone. He angles the camera right behind me, capturing his cum that drips out of me and both our faces in the mirror.

My face holds confusion and he sees it, keeping a straight face.

“People usually have photos of their gods, something to look at when they worship it. And this is mine.”

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suashii · 1 year

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୨♡୧ SMILE FOR THE CAMERA — be a doll and give them something to remember you by while they're away.

featuring. itoshi rin, oliver aiku, shidou ryusei.

warnings. f!reader, nudes, consensual filming and photo taking, cunnilingus, blowjob, hair pulling, pet names (pretty girl, sweetheart) one little bite, some overstimulation. all characters written 18+.

₊˚ପ⊹ ITOSHI RIN

rin is settling in his seat on the plane when his phone buzzes in his pocket. it’s likely a text from you, one asking for the man to call you when he has safely landed at his destination. he pulls the device out and unlocks it with that in mind but stills upon the messages app. it is a text but the contents of it are far less innocent than rin imagined.

there’s a photo of you, dressed in nothing but his favorite set of lingerie. you’re sat in front of the mirror with your legs spread apart and panties pulled to the side, giving him a pretty view of your pussy. it’s glistening with your slick and the sight alone is almost enough to make rin’s mouth water as he’s more than eager for a taste.

the previous night when his head had been tucked between your thighs, lips sucking at your clit and tongue lapping away at your cunt, suddenly feels like forever ago. he isn’t sure how long he’ll last without being able to savor the taste of you, how long he’ll be able to manage not feeling your thighs trembling against the sides of his face and the quiver of your pussy beneath his tongue.

rin’s grip on his phone is much tighter than it had been when he first pulled it out as he stares down at your picture. there’s a thin line between him wishing you had worn the lacey lingerie before he left this morning and being grateful that you hadn’t so he wouldn’t miss his flight. though, how can he be upset with you when you took the liberty of getting all prettied up for him?

he’s about to thank you for the photo and comment on how useful it’ll be during your time apart when his eyes flit down to the message that accompanies your racy photo.

for while you’re away ♡

₊˚ପ⊹ OLIVER AIKU

“fuck, that’s it, pretty girl,” oliver coos, a low grunt following shortly after. his grasp on your hair tightens as your nose brushes his pelvis. spit dribbles down your chin and gathers at the base of his cock that’s thickening in your mouth. you moan around his length at the feel of his head prodding at the tight give of your throat.

the vibration is all it takes to draw out oliver’s orgasm. he groans, tugging your hair to pull you off his cock before the rush of his cum shoots down your throat. warm, white ropes of his essence pool on your tongue. “don’t swallow,” he chokes out, waiting for the final wave of his climax to pass.

obediently, you keep your tongue stuck out, letting the abundance of his cum collect on your tongue. the phone in his hand that’s not holding your hair lifts as he breathes heavily, a grin pulling at the man’s lips. a flash briefly brightens the room as oliver takes a picture of you between his legs, on your knees with his seed in your mouth.

“go ahead and swallow, sweetheart,” he tells you, his thumb swiping the screen. you do as he says, happily swallowing and giving him a lazy smile aftward. he lets go of your hair to take his cock in his hand. the flash of his camera returns but for longer as he traces his tip along the curve of your lips, leaving what looks like a shiny gloss on the delicate skin.

“are you gonna miss me while i’m gone?” oliver asks, still filming.

you hum and nod. “more than anything.”

“good girl,” he quietly praises, tapping the red button to end his recording. he tosses his phone to the side before cradling your cheeks with both of his hands. “what do you say to one more round before i leave, hm?”

₊˚ପ⊹ SHIDOU RYUSEI

your cheeks burn even hotter than the rest of your warm skin as ryusei holds your chin in place so that you’re looking at the mirror settled in front of you—the one that reflects your joined bodies, shows you the lewd image of you bouncing on his cock. with his phone raised and recording the act as well, it feels as though hundreds of eyes are watching you. a tinge of embarrassment courses through you but, more than anything else, your skin prickles with arousal.

shidou’s lips ghost over the pulse of your neck, his breath raising the fine hairs on your nape. he smiles against your skin before leaving a trail of wet kisses up to your jaw. he nips at the skin there; not hard enough to be painful but just firm enough for another wave of arousal to wash over you.

the man breathes out a laugh at the moan that pushes past your lips. his hand abandons its hold on your chin, trusting that you’ll keep your eyes forward in favor of letting his fingers dance down your body until they reach your clit. his thumb rubs circles against the sensitive nub, drawing a choked gasp from you as you continue to bounce on his cock.

“listen to you,” he drawls, a grin still pulling at his lips as he meets your eye in the mirror. you aren’t sure if he means the lewd sound of your wetness, skin slapping skin, or the variety of noises he keeps pulling from you—maybe he’s referring to all of them. “you like this, don’t you?”

you’re too overwhelmed to string together a coherent reply, so you settle for a frantic nod.

“yeah?” he asks, sickeningly sweet. his lips hover over the shell of your ear, magenta eyes never leaving yours. “come for me then.”

like his words are an enchantment, you come undone around him, walls fluttering around his cock as your orgasm floods over you. you whine at the way his hips don’t let up on their thrusts. as if he can sense the question sparkling in your eyes, shidou jerks his head in the direction of his phone. “we’ve gotta get mine, too.”

thanks for reading! consider commenting or reblogging if you enjoyed ❤︎

#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: blue lock #itoshi rin x reader #rin x reader #oliver aiku x reader #shidou x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk smut #blue lock smut #bllk imagines #blue lock imagines #bllk scenarios #blue lock scenarios #bllk x you #blue lock x you

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sillydaydreamrr · 7 months

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Alastor x bows obsessed!Reader

Tagz: Alastor x reader, established relationship, Gn!reader, reader obsessed with bows, annoyed Alastor, mostly "fluff" ig, occcc!Alastor i think...

Author Note : Bad english, first time writing and posting something i wrote!!! Mostly made this based of the fact that i have a huge obsession on bows those times for no reasons lol—

Hope u enjoy nonetheless, love ya!

Also, 𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘤 = 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴, red=alastor, pink = reader

You always were a big fan of bows, Alastor not really.

You were preparing yourself for a group activity Charlie decided to do. As you looked at yourself in the mirror, you smiled softly. You had decided to put a small white bow hairclip in your hair. You looked absolutely adorable like this and Alastor couldn't deny that. He was standing behind you, his usual grin turning into a soft, genuine smile that only you had the chance to see. You glanced up at him and you suddenly got an idea. Alastor would look so pretty with a bow hair clip!

He saw your expression, one he knew too well, and tilted his head. “I think my little doe has an idea. Am I wrong?” He asked with a soft, teasing tone. You chuckled and nodded eagerly “Can I put a bow on your hair? Pleasee?” you begged while giving him your best doe eyes. His smile turned into a tight, annoyed grin and he glanced at all the different bows that were laying on your dressing table. “I'm afraid not. I'm not really fond of your little..bow things.” “You mean hairclips? But! You'd look so good with one! Please?”

After some more minutes of this back and forth, Alastor finally gave in. He sat on your shared bed and let you put the bow on his hair. You squealed eagerly as you put the pink bow hairclip in his soft red hair, just under his fluffy deer ear, which made it twitch slightly. You giggled and admired him. “You look so so so soooo cute!!! I knew it would look good on you!”. He blushed slightly at the compliments but didn't show it. He tried putting on an annoyed facade, he didn't want you to know he actually enjoyed wearing the hairclip. But of course you knew him too well and immediately noticed. “Ooh? Is Mr.I hate hairclips actually..enjoying wearing it?~” you teased him, which in return made his smile turn to an annoyed and embarrassed one. His right eye twitched slightly and he glared down at you. “Of course not. I could never love such…things.” “You're such a bad liar, my love.”. You smirked at him as he groaned and rolled his eyes “Fine, i..i quite like wearing those stupid haieclips things.”. You giggled and kissed his cheek before helping him to his feet by holding his hand and you left the room without giving him much of a choice.

As you two made your way down the stairs and to the rest of the gang, they all looked bewildered. Why was Alastor, the Radio Demon, wearing a pink bow hairclip!? You stopped and looked at them, confused. “Are you okay guys?”

“U-uh yeah…” Charlie answered, still a bit shocked about seeing Alastor wearing the bow. Angel smirked and glanced at the Radio Demon “Guess little y/n managed to convince Smiles to put that cute little bow, huh?”. You chuckled softly before replying in a teasing tone “He looks so cute like that, doesn't he?~” Everyone, well almost everyone laughed and giggled as you smiled proudly. Alastor glared at you, bending down and whispering in your ear, his static noises slightly louder “I swear, i'll make you regret humiliating me this way.”

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor

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phfenomena · 9 months

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❝you are the only exception.❞ || tom blyth x f!reader

request- Hi! Can I request a tom blyth x f!reader based on The Only Exception by Paramore? maybe something where that becomes their song? Thank you 🥹

A/N- this song is so depressing but i tried my hardest to romanticize it LMAO

and that was the day that i promised i would not sing for love, if it didn’t exist.

your bed is empty and cold as you roll over and stare out the window. it’s impossible to yearn for something so dearly that you don’t even want, for something you can’t have. love is the last experience you should be wanting to taste, you have your own life.

maybe i know deep in my soul that love never lasts.

you’ve had your share of flings, sure, but their touch never ignited a burning desire to be with them forever within you. they took up ten percent of your effort and time and you couldn’t care less about it.

and i’ve always lived like this, keeping a comfortable distance. and up until now i’ve sworn to myself that i’m content with loneliness, because none of it was worth the risk. but you are the only exception.

till you met tom, and he moved in and dropped his bags in his mind. you met him while working on a movie and you did the makeup of his co-star, but he always found himself in your trailer. chatting and laughing away the time in between shoots that he shouldn’t have shared with you. you found yourself thinking of him when you should’ve been asleep hours ago, the way his crinkled when he laughed, and the way he always stopped and listened whenever you had something to share.

you wake up every morning excited to work, excited to see tom. you’ve began bringing two coffees in the morning- and memorizing toms order in the process. it’s almost as if your life had been in black and white until he came along and lit everything up. he ignited you and left your hands shaking and itching to reach out and touch him, not just to fix his hair but to feel him. feel how he’s real, how he’s alive, and know that your mind didn’t conjure him up to entertain yourself.

you find yourself spending time with tom outside of set, a quick coffee run, a late night conversation over dinner, or a quick phone call to ask his opinion on a dress you found at the mall.

i’ve got a tight grip on reality, but i can’t let go of what’s in front of me here. i know you’re leaving in the morning when you wake up, leave me with some kind of proof it’s not a dream.

he finds home within you, slowly creeping into your life until your brain runs on him. slowly weaseling himself into your bed. the scenarios you once used to lull yourself to sleep were in front of you for you to touch, but he never stays. you never wake up in his arms, sometimes you wonder how he estimates when he needs to go before you wake up. before you wake up and really see him, really get to know what you guys are, or what you guys aren’t.

love is a chore, you know that. it’s tiring, draining, and it even eats you up from the inside out. someone else can ruin you in a blink of an eye, no, they will ruin you in the blink of an eye. but he’s the only exception.

your sat on your floor. the air is filled with giggles and red cheeks, it smells like wine and desperation. your guitar is sitting on your lap, having played tom any song he wanted. you’ve gone through taylor swift already and you could barley get the lovely lyrics out with laughing.

the melody of paramore begins to fill the air until the walls start closing in, until you’re in a box with tom. you’ve been careful, but when he inches forward and you meet him in the middle. it was all worth the risk. because he is the only exception.

#tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #billy the kid x reader #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #tom blyth fluff #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x you #tom blyth x you #william bonney smut #william bonney fluff #william bonney x reader #william bonney #billy the kid fluff #billy bonney x reader #billy the kid

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lottiecrabie · 1 year

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don't fuck the line cooks. part one – matty healy

(also lovingly known as linecook!au)

working at your father’s restaurant for the summer, you meet back-of-house line cook matty healy. there’s something impossibly tempting about him, even if you shouldn’t be thinking of him this way. for multiple reasons.

warnings: 18+, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, overstimulation, dom/sub undertones, temperature play, vague authority kink, health code violations, problematic age gap, sleazy man

part one of two

14281 words

His moves are precise and dexterous, a second nature he’s developed through cuts and burns. He fine chops with confidence, raking the onions and throwing them in the sizzling skillet. The sound explodes through the busy kitchen. A dirty joke must be told from the man mashing potatoes in the station next to him because he laughs, shoulders shaking, wrinkling his nose in some sort of snort. His head shakes; his hair with it.

He grabs a towel, covering his skillet with the lid, throwing it over his shoulder. A stained white shirt with short sleeves practically strangles his biceps, showing off tattoos scattering down his arms. They flex as he reaches for a bubbling pan, pouring some cream in his red concoction. His long, spindly fingers grab the pepper, twisting it with two surely rough hands. The fingernails are cut short but clean. Knowledgeable fingers; fast and sure and nibble. There’s a callus at the base of his index finger, a telltale sign of experience. Tough skin that would—

“Are you looking for something?” Matty calls.

You jump, eyes snapping from his hands to his face. He arches an eyebrow, smiling at you. There’s something almost condescending about the look you don’t quite enjoy, something that has you blushing. You twist your fingers in your apron. “Um, yes. Salt? I’m supposed to fill up the shakers.”

Matty nods. “Dry storage.” You must be giving some sort of lost look because he turns to his friend, asking, “Can you watch that for me?”

After a noise of affirmation, Matty throws his towel on the counter, walking up to you. His chin tips to the right, but you wait until he brushes past to follow behind him. You’re practically running to catch up with his steps— once again, fast and sure and confident. It feels like it’s all you've been doing these days: running; trying to keep up with this bustling environment. Everything spins nauseously around you, dizzy and off-kilter, running a hot plate when you’re still scribbling down the order.

“Daddy didn’t show you around?” Matty asks, although the mean tone clearly doesn’t particularly wish for an answer. That, too, is all you’ve been doing these days: laughing off taunts and teases about your father.

You huff. “He’s been busy.”

“I know.”

Matty stops in his tracks. He turns to you, tilting his head towards the door. Dry Storage is labeled neatly on it. You flush, suddenly feeling quite green for needing to be handheld towards it. You open the door, stepping in.

“He’s never here much,” Matty continues, leaning on the doorframe, arms crossed. The end of a seahorse peeks out of his white sleeve.

“He has three restaurants,” you defend. Dozens of quips about your lineage poke at your mind, burned and spiked. It’s because of the uncauterized scabs that you hear yourself retort, “And you should be glad. You guys wouldn’t get into half the things you do if he was here.”

Matty arches an eyebrow, staring you up and down. Suddenly, the carefully chosen outfit feels silly on you: the shirt too modest, the skirt too proper, the ponytail too tight; like a child playing dress-up. Heat burns at the back of your neck, but you stare at him head-on, unwilling to back down.

His eyes snap back to yours, grin digging in his cheek like he’s figured you out in a matter of seconds. Like the results were easy and unthreatening. Matty’s voice is low but teasing when he finally answers, “Oh, you know nothing about the things we do.”

You give him a deadpanned look. “I’m new, not stupid.”

He nods, humoring you. “Okay,” he licks his lips, cheeky. “Then what do we do?”

A sinful thrill pumps up your legs at the sight of him, hot shame contrasting it. He’s condescending you, two steps short of speaking slow and short like you couldn’t figure the words out properly, and you’re clenching your thighs in answer. It’s embarrassing. Still, the low thrum of excitement reverberates up your limbs.

You swallow thickly, redirecting your attention to the overfilled shelves. “What don’t you do?”

Matty tsks. “That’s evading the question.”

“I’m not being quizzed.”

In the corner of your eye, you see him throw his hands in the air. “You’re right.”

You shake your head, looking through the shelves to busy yourself with something other than the tempting need to stare at him. Though your eyes wash over the cans and boxes, your brain registers none of them, too busy playing back the flash of flexed biceps and curly hair falling down his forehead.

Matty doesn’t seem willing to let your thoughts order back to functional sense. Instead, he hums, adding, “Three restaurants, yet you’re still working. You’ve been cut off or something? Been really bad?” You practically hear the smirk in his voice. You shake your head, glancing at him. How wrong he is. You open your mouth to tell him such, but he cuts in, “Let me guess.”

You snort. “Good luck.”

“You got busted at a politician’s son's powder party? It almost made the news, but daddy bought your name out of the press.”

You cock your head, amused against your will. “How rich do you think I am? My dad owns middle-rated restaurants, not the Ritz.”

“Flunk out of college?”

“I’m actually on the dean’s list.” You hate how proud your voice sounds; it’s silly to care about such things in the real world. Matty cooks and sweats and bleeds all day, and a smile sticks to your cheeks for flimsy things that will immaterialize in a few years.

“Bought prostitutes?” You give him a look, which he laughs at. “Alright, fine. I give up. What did you do?”

“Nothing.”

His eyebrows rise. You’re a little glad to unroot him. “Nothing?”

You blush, turning back to inspect your row of dry ingredients. “I just— I haven’t had much to do since I’ve been back from college. My dad thought it might be a good idea to get some real life experience.”

“Nothing to do in New York?” His tone is incredulous. He coos, “You’re really not bad at all.” Again, you feel embarrassingly your age. A little girl amidst the real world, too fast and large for her to make sense of it. You’re ill-fitting.

Annoyed, you scoff, “Cause I’m not doing coke off someone’s tits in the locker room?”

Matty grins, elated. “She finally said it.”

You roll your eyes, electing to focus on the shelves of ingredients instead of the shape of his lips in a lopsided smile. It’s doing too much on your soupy brain, spinning with the inexplicable need to appear older to him, more mature.

His steps ring through the cramped space. Matty brushes against your back. You tense, freezing on the spot, hyper aware of the heat of his body. He smells like cigarettes. You close your eyes, breathing him in, fragile heart racing against your ribs. His arm reaches above you, grazing your shoulder. The ghosting touch is enough to have you shivering.

“There,” Matty whispers in your ear, the letters tickling the skin. He grabs the salt.

He’s off you in the blink of an eye, quicker than you can make sense of. Again, just a few feet behind in a fast paced world, left to catch up in the race. You slowly turn, pressing your back against the shelves, trying to hold yourself up on shaky knees. Matty smirks, still too close to think properly. Between you is the box of salt.

You accept it hesitantly. “Thanks,” you whisper, trying to focus on his eyes and not his lips stretching over spiky teeth.

“You’re welcome, princess.” He goes for the door, leaving you breathless from the sudden lack of him. He lingers in the doorframe, turning to add, “If you need anything, just ask me.”

You grip the salt like a lifebuoy. The world spins beneath your feet. “Okay.”

He’s out the door. You’re out of breath.

—

You slam the backdoor open, stepping out into the alleyway with a scream. You bury your head between your hands, trying to wipe away the boiling frustration, like a soothing hand on your forehead could make it all better. Fuck this job. You scream again, muffled by your palms. Fuck this fucking job.

With a deep breath, you emerge out of the safety of your fingers. You exhale, plastering a fake smile on your face. You can’t see, but you surely look clownesque, all red and puffy from anger, grinning like the butt of the joke.

You turn to get back inside, ready to bite your lip as guests and hosts and waitresses lay into you for being too slow, and too lost, and too stupid. You’re starting to think you might have done something terribly bad after all. This summer job is looking more like some cruel punishment than a special shot at experience.

Something catches in the corner of your eye. You jump, whipping your head, finding Matty smoking on the stairs of the fire escape, grinning to himself. Your heart races. “I didn’t see you there.”

“Evidently.”

You linger in the moment, feet strangely glued to the ground. Matty takes a drag of his cigarette. You follow his lips as the gray smoke pours out of them, drifting around him like some sort of fire signal you’re not decoding.

He holds his hand out, cig burning bright orange in offering. “You look like you need it.”

You stare at the offending rolled up paper. You’ve spent twenty-one years of your life categorically refusing any smoke, wrinkling your nose at the very smell. Yet, it somehow seems attractive hanging limply between his long fingers, one bandaged from some cut.

You nod before you register the action, walking up to him. Matty smiles at that. It’s strange to tower over his sitting body. He always seems larger than life in the restaurant, filling up every nook with his presence.

“Thanks.” You take the cigarette from him, shivering as your fingers graze over his. You inspect it, incertain on how to handle it, before placing it between your lips. You inhale, then cough, bending away and burying in your elbow. You leave it with a grimace, your mouth coated in tar.

Matty laughs. “First time?” You flush, hating to look so inexperienced and young in front of him. That’s enough answer for him. “Cute.”

You scowl. “It’s bad for your lungs.”

“Why’d you take it then?”

You feel strangely cornered, like a finger pinned you in place. You up your nose, “It’s impolite to refuse a gift.” Matty snorts at that.

“You’re real proper.”

“I was raised right.”

Matty smiles to himself, laughing. “I’m sure you were.” Your stomach clenches, unnamed thrill waving through you.

You cock your head, volleying, “Is this where you make a daddy joke?”

He arches an eyebrow, shit-eating grin on his face. “Do you want me to?”

“I think they’re getting redundant,” you sigh dramatically. The cigarette resting primly between your fingers, burning away, seems to give you uncharacteristic confidence. You feel oddly cool, like the tipsy girls smoking on balconies at the parties you never stayed long at. Like you could be anyone.

Matty holds his chest, eyebrows furrowed in hurt. “You wound me.”

“Get some better material, then.”

He tsks, reaching out for the cigarette. You offer it gladly, mostly to get electrified from the grazing touch; alive because he exists to prove it.

Smoking seems so easy when he does it, pouring out of his lips and drenching you in the cloudy air. You can’t look away from him, breath hitched. Your eyes focus on his mouth, following its movements religiously. Matty tips his chin towards the cigarette, grossly misunderstanding your fascination. “Do you want me to show you how to smoke it?”

You resent the idea of inhaling again, smearing your tongue in the awful taste just to embarrass yourself. But you resent the idea of walking away more, finding back the dizzying dance inside. Losing his overwhelming presence, pressing into you even when you’re a respectful foot away.

Your chest feels tight. You shrug, faux-nonchalant. “Sure.”

“You have to suck on it,” Matty says, and you’re almost sure he’s emphasizing the word suck on purpose. Now there’s a dirty vision of your knees pressing meanly on the asphalt, wrapping your lips around— You blush to your roots. Matty continues, smug, “Inhale, let it rest in your mouth to cool, breathe in, let it go down to your lungs, blow it out. Easy.” He offers the cig again.

You grasp it, surer in your fingers this time. “Easy for you.”

“I’m sure a girl on the dean’s list can figure it out.” Your heart skips a beat, but you ignore it dutifully. It’s stupid to care that he remembers. It’s stupid to flush. It’s stupid to feel embarrassed.

You try again, placing the butt of the cigarette between your lips, almost nervous to breathe in after being burned. You inhale, but it goes offly down your throat, and you cough again, blinking away the taste.

You shake your head, giving him back the cigarette. “I don’t think it’s for me.”

Matty accepts it back, taking an easy drag. The smoke blows around you and the warning signs look a lot clearer in the fog this time. Still, you don’t step away and run to the bathroom to wash the smell out of your fingers.

Matty eyes you up and down, raking his burning stare over you. “Do you want to shotgun it?”

The vision of bending down, leaning into him, lips almost close enough to be something — something to prove you’re living, some experience to recount to your college friends — is a tantalizing sight. A thrilling idea, perhaps too much so. You shouldn’t be thinking of him this way. You shouldn’t be pressing your legs together at the very concept.

“Why not?” You smile. You’re weaker than you used to give yourself credit for. A mind of steel, down a straight and narrow path, arrowing to success in a precise line.

It’s one bend, you tell yourself. Barely that. A small curve, like a faltered step.

You close the distance, ready to lean over him, but Matty surprises you. He grabs your wrist, tugging you down on one of his spread knees. You balance yourself from the sudden fall with a grip around his shoulder— strong and big and, shit, now you’re going to be thinking of them all day.

“Hi.”

His eyes dance with amusement. “Hi.”

You sit straight on his lap, prim and proper, almost a caricature of yourself. Matty’s hand travels to your back, spreading across your spine, warm over your flimsy uniform. Maybe to steady you, if you weren’t sitting straight-bolt, fixed. You can’t figure out a reason for it at all, and it leaves you growing hot in his arms.

From up close, Matty looks disheveled. A faint stubble, eyebags, gray-streaked hair drooping down his forehead, small silver hoops looping from his ears; he’s completely unmade. Near like this, you can smell the sweat sticking to his skin under the cigarette smoke. It should repulse you, but there’s something raw and real about him, something tangible and palpable contrary to the white-collared boys your father has paraded in front of you. You’re not against it.

“What do I do?” You whisper, because that’s how loud you need to speak for him to hear you crystal clear.

“Don’t have to do a single thing, princess. Just inhale.”

His lips wrap around the cigarette. A shot of excitement rings up your spine. You wonder if he feels it buzzing under his fingertips. If he hears your heart slamming dizzily fast against your ribs. If he sees the way your stare hangs onto his mouth. It parts and leans into yours, blowing softly.

You inhale just like he asked, but it’s more an inherent gasp at the proximity of him than a fully formed thought. Smoke slips past your lips, swirling down your throat as you breathe in. It doesn’t taste so bad like this.

Matty rubs his thumb on your back as a reward. “Good girl.” You bite your lip to contain the pleased grin, too childish in the lap of a man. “Knew you could do it. How’d you find it?”

“I liked it.”

“And here I thought you were raised right.”

You lick your lips. “There’s been some faults.” He grins at that.

“Do you want another one?”

The thought of his lips nearly pressing into yours again is desperately appealing. You shift on his knee. “Yes.”

Again, Matty blows smoke into your open mouth, practically shoving the warning bells past your lips. They slide on your tongue, but it tastes strangely sweet when you’re in his arms. You exhale a faint cloud of gray. His hand travels down to your hip, squeezing there.

Your thighs press together, hand digging into his shoulder. Arousal drips down your stomach, pooling between your legs. He hasn’t done much to warrant this, other than share a ghost of a kiss. The word spins in your mind, hot and exhilarated. You want to feel the stumble between your palms, want to lick the smoke off of his lips, want to wipe your mind from the mere concept of restaurants and guests and plates.

You think of leaning in. You consider it, clawing at his shoulder, fearing dripping on his thigh. Your fingers tingle. You’re getting a story, an experience, a proof you’re alive— if it’s fucking in a New York alleyway, so be it. At least your heart will beat with something other than nerves.

You’re doing it.

Your chin tips towards him, but Matty retreats, leaning back into the stairs. He takes a drag of his dwindling cigarette, blowing it into the air, far away from your readied mouth. Hurt splashes behind your ribs, but you don’t let it show.

Stealing the cig from his finger, you take the last puff. It falls down to your lungs with more ease and you try to contain your giddy excitement at finally getting it right. Breathing out a plume of smoke in his face, you wash him in gray.

Adrenaline rushes up to your head. You close your eyes, breathing in the dirty air, face buzzing pleasantly. A smile ghosts your lips. Maybe you’ve been wrong all these years. Maybe smoking is for you. Your tongue tastes like fire.

“It’s bad for you,” Matty says. Your eyes snap open, locking with his. His stare is dark.

You arch an eyebrow. “Now you’re concerned for my health?”

He pinches your hip. “Brat.”

You press the butt of the cigarette on the staircase railing, throwing its carcass to the ground amidst the others. Pushing yourself up with his shoulder, you find yourself gleeful that he bends his head back to watch you, literally looking up at you. Your fingers linger on his shirt, itching to climb them up to his neck, his jaw, his cheek. Trace the shape of his lips, then taste them yourself.

“Thanks for the cig.”

Matty nods. “Sure.”

You finally let go of him, taking a step back, then another one, before turning around and walking back to the restaurant. Your whole body is feverish.

You shake your head, making your way back to the table of a prissy elderly couple. Your smile is wide and relaxed. “Is everything good here?”

—

You clutch your handbag as you step through the dining room. The crew crowds around the bar, hunching over the counter in a laugh and downing back shots, spreading through the unmade tables on squeaky clean floors. You’re unsure on your feet. You’ve never been to shift drinks before, instead practically running back home with your sweaty uniform shoved in your bag. This time, as you slipped into your white flowy camisole, you felt a strange resolve climb up your spine.

It’s been happening more and more these days. As you get a feel of the land, zigzagging through bustling tables without a second thought, you find yourself chatting with the other waitresses, pestering the host, bumming castaway cigarettes from line cooks.

Matty spots you from his seat at the bar. A smile splits on his face as he waves you over. “Hey, princess. C’me here.”

There’s a giddiness you can’t control swirling in your stomach. You walk to him, now more certain in your steps. There’s a sense of belonging when you’re near Matty; when he talks to you; when he makes you a plate and slides it your way wordlessly. Like you’ve been tapped. You’re in because he opens the door.

You climb up the stool, slamming your handbag on the counter. “You need to stop calling me princess,” you say.

Matty is already amused, wiping beer foam out of his smirking lips. “Why? It fits you so well.” You narrow your eyes at him. The digs about your father don’t hurt when it’s from him. He makes them bulletless.

“People will get the wrong impression.”

His chin rests on his palm, staring you up and down, tongue digging in his cheek. “And what impression is that?”

You flush, looking away. Your skin burns at the memory of him, feeling his gaze still seeping through your cheek. You inspect the collection of bottles on the shelves behind the working bartenders instead of answering. Painstakingly reading the labels is a better activity for your mind than the whirlwind images of you on your knees, on the floor, gasping, giggling, coming— fantasies you’ve indulged in more times than you can count, although you always close the pandora box almost as quickly as it opens.

Matty follows your eye line. He leans into you, asking, “What do you want?”

For all your meticulous label-reading, the letters suddenly become blurry jargon. The bar is far-stretched, out of your depth. A world of unknowns rippling in amber-colored bottles. You bite your lip, hesitating. “I don’t know.”

He arches an eyebrow. “Have you never had alcohol before?”

It must be written on your face from how quickly he clocks you. Again, you find yourself wishing to grow a few inches taller, be just a little older, more complete.

You purse your lips. “I just turned 21.” Matty laughs, throwing his head back. It’s a nice sound— rare in the overwhelming kitchen where a swear is better currency. Still, you despise the mocking undertone. Defensively, you cry, “What? It’s the law!”

Matty shakes his head, turning to his bartender friend polishing glasses, a constant sour expression on his face. “George, make her a sex on the beach.”

George nods, putting down his glass and reaching for a shaker. He twirls his vodka between expert fingers, pouring it in freely. You watch, a little intrigued by his sure moves, biceps flexing as he shakes the concoction with one hand.

“He’s a show-off,” Matty says. “A sex on the beach does not require all this.”

“Fuck off,” George retorts, though he sounds little bothered. He pours the cocktail in an ice-filled glass, topping it with an orange and a cherry, before sliding it towards you. “There you go, sweets.” Beside you, Matty rolls his eyes.

The drink is an orangey pink, seemingly fruity. You give Matty a look. “Did you give me the girliest drink you could think of?”

“Well, I wasn’t about to start you with straight whiskey, was I?”

Tentatively, you raise the drink to your lips, self-conscious of his heavy stare on you. You throw a glance his way, locking eyes with him as you finally tip the glass. You take a sip, licking the rim clean, smiling as he swallows thickly. “I like it,” you declare.

His hand clenches around his beer glass. “Good,” he says, sounding rough. Thrill beats up your thighs. You clench them, crossing one over the other.

You drink another mouthful. You grin as you lick the pink off your lips, hyperaware of his transfixed watch on them. “Why is it called a sex on the beach?”

“Some bartender named it that.”

“That’s not a very precise answer.”

He scowls, taking a sip of his beer. “Do I look like an encyclopedia to you?”

“Nah, you’re right.” Matty side-eyes your taunting face, pink grin teasing him. He seems to ready for a cheeky comment, which you provide happily, clicking your tongue, “Not smart enough for that.”

He arches an eyebrow, spinning on his stool to face you. His knees trapp your thighs. Your skin is on fire almost immediately. Tingles where his legs graze you climb up and up your body, growing wetter at his unimpressed stare. You’ve lost all of your bravado.

“Miss dean’s list has a lot to say, I see.” You lick your teeth, standing a little straighter. How you want to be good. You shake your head. He peers at you, almost pouting. “No?”

Again, you shake your head, biting down your smile. A sudden paragon of excellence, you affirm, “I don’t have anything to say.”

Matty hums. “Better watch that mouth if you can’t walk it.”

“Why should I when you watch it for me?” Your heart roars under your ribs. Nerves and thrill mixes in your belly, making a heady mix that shoots up your spine.

Matty presses his knees on your thighs. “Careful.” He smirks down at you, leaning in to whisper, “People will get the wrong impression.”

You press your legs back. “They could be right.”

Matty laughs, reaching for his beer and taking a sip. His Adam's apple bobs as he drinks; you clench your thighs together, watching as he licks the condensation off his lips. He narrows his eyes at you. “You know, you got that innocent act, but you’re trouble.”

You chuckle, faux-offended. “You’re the one who gave me my first cigarette,” you argue. Your eyes find your lonely cocktail, grabbing it. “And my first drink.” As though to prove your point, you swallow a long sip.

Matty eyes you. Heavy meaning drips from his lips as he trails, “And…?”

You scoff, swatting his knee. “I’m not a little girl.” Your hand lingers on it. Primly, you add, “I’ve had sex before.”

“Oh yeah?”

You sit straighter. “Yes. I’ve had a boyfriend.”

“And how was he?”

You blush. “He was…” Memories of awkward meetings in his dorm room as he rutted above you flash back to you. The messy rubbing just under your clit, always too hard yet too slow. The falling sweaty over your naked body, laughing to himself, asking if you’ve come. “Fine.”

Matty arches an unimpressed eyebrow. “Fine?”

“Yes!” You cry defensively. “I don’t know. We were 19. It wasn’t gonna— rock my world.”

He smirks, voice low as he says, “Baby, he wasn’t doing it right then. It should always rock your world.”

It’s so fucking obnoxious of him to say. You should be disgusted by the ego-fueled words— should doubt them, coming from a man and all.

Yet all you can think about is the way his hands work in the kitchen, quick and precise and dexterous. How they would feel on your skin, rough and callused. How they would work on your body, expert and certain and steady.

Fuck, you wanna know them. You want them at your clit, fucking into you, pinching a nipple, wiping your lipgloss off your chin.

Dirty images fill your mind. Again, you clench your thighs, soaking your underwear. Your breathing has grown heavy. He watches you with dark eyes, like he can tell. Like he sees the thoughts as they cross your brain. Sinful pressure builds in your stomach.

You take a nervous sip of your drink. You lick the vodka off your lips, but still it’s not enough to stop you from breathing out, “How so?”

Matty warns, “You’re teasing.”

“I’m asking.” Your hand pinches his knee.

Danger pumps in your veins, alongside something dirtier, but still you stare at him straight on. His eyes intensify, his fingers clenching around his pint. You can imagine the feel of them on your trembling thighs, digging into the flesh to bruise it. You think he’s imagining it, too.

“Well, firstly, he needs to make you come. On his knees preferably— just worshiping that cunt. Gotta be fucking starved for it, you know? Dive like it’s his last meal.”

Your breath hitches at the filthy words, toes curling in your sneakers. You swallow thickly, trying to brush away the invading images of Matty devouring you on a table of the dining room. It’s a poor attempt— the idea of his tongue lapping at you, swiping your clit, fucking into you is so vivid you can almost feel it.

Matty gives you a conspiratorial look, whispering, “But I bet he wasn’t doing that, was he?” You shake your head, dazed. He tsks. “Shame.”

You keep a vice-like grip on Matty’s knee, trying to reattach yourself to some kind of reality. He’s tangible under your fingertips— warm.

“See,” Matty continues, smirking down at your clear mesmerism: breathless and dark eyed, following his lips religiously. “After she’s come a few times and she’s all dopey and relaxed and fucked out— when she’s wet enough she’s dripping on your chin— that’s when you can first slide in. Then you gotta find what she likes best, you know? If it’s rough and fast or slow and deep. You can’t just thrust uselessly. That’s what your little boyfriend did, right?”

You nod, too taken in his honey web to care to keep up with your aloof, fine experience act. “Yeah. Yeah, he would just drill.”

Matty shakes his head, rubbing his lower lip. “Fucking nineteen years old. They never do it right.”

“Oh, so you were also kind of shit?”

He smiles. “Well, no. But I’m a prodigy.”

You roll your eyes, laughing, “Oh, my God. Shut up.”

Matty grazes your bare thigh with a cold, rough hand. You shiver, spreading your legs instinctively. He smirks at that, cocky and smug, letting one callused finger draw up your skin.

“Finish your drink,” Matty orders, tipping his head towards the nearly over cocktail.

You don’t even think twice before grabbing the glass, downing the end of it. Two fingers find your thigh in reward, dancing on the flushed skin.

He leans into you, locking his eyes with you as he whispers, “The trick is to never let her get too used to something. Speed up then slow down. Switch positions. Always rub and rub at that little bundle of nerves until she’s come on your cock so many times she’s begging you to leave it be.” His whole hand swallows your thigh. You sit straighter, pleasure coiling in your belly. “And then you make her come one more time. That’s how you rock her world.”

You’re shortwinded, waves of overwhelming excitement razing through your fragile limbs. You open your legs wider, inviting his adventurous fingers, practically begging for them, really.

Matty gives you a purposeful onceover. You must look desperate, staring at him like you could swallow him up.

His hand leaves your thigh, grabbing his beer to finish it in one long sip. He stands up, leaving your burning cocoon. You miss the press of his legs once they free yours.

“I think it’s time to go home,” Matty declares.

Again, hurt at being rejected pinches your heart. He’s raised your temperature to a sinful degree and now he’s backing down, leaving you wet and throbbing around nothing, hair risen at the prospect of dust.

Embarrassment flushes your cheeks. You scowl, crying, “Oh, come on. I’m not a child.”

Matty gives you a dark stare that makes you shudder in thrill. His voice is low and gravelly when he says, “Believe me, I know that.” His head tips back to the door. “Let me drive you home.”

You bite back a smirk. “Yeah?” A drive home, to an empty house without onlookers. You can’t contain your excitement.

Matty rolls his eyes, grabbing your hands to get you off the stool and onto your feet. He takes your bag next, swinging it over his shoulder. He starts walking. “Come on, princess. I can’t have her majesty home after midnight or she’ll turn into a pumpkin.”

You skip after him, knocking his shoulder with yours once you finally catch up. “You got the metaphor wrong. Cinderella didn’t transform into a pumpkin, she lost her dress and slippers.” He gives you a side look which you giggle at, suddenly all giddy. “Plus, it’s already 2:25AM. You’re too late.”

“Yet you still have your dress.”

“That can be arranged.”

Finally outside, you breathe in the fresh air before stepping into Matty’s car. It smells like cigarettes and weed in it, some useless pine car scent hanging from the rearview mirror with blue dices to cover it. You buckle your seatbelt.

Matty doesn’t say anything as he drives, focused on the dark roads stretching in front of you. Your heart beats faster as every known house catches your peripheral vision. Every inch brings you closer to the tantalizing end goal. It’s a miracle you sit still.

He parallel parks in front of your house, gripping your headrest to look backwards before dipping his wrist over the steering wheel.

You can’t wait anymore, unbuckling your seatbelt as soon as the car stops and practically running to your house. Matty doesn’t follow. You turn back to his open car window as he sits still, frowning at him.

“Alright,” Matty nods at you. “Goodnight.”

Your lips gape in utter disbelief. “Are you serious?” All that teasing, all that talk, all that promise. He drove you home, for fuck’s sake. And he’s saying goodnight?

Matty arches an eyebrow, taunting as he says, “Do you want to have a bad night?”

You might very well see red. Fuck him. You scoff, flipping around purposefully and trudging to your house, already apprehending the hour you’ll spend with your hand between your thighs thinking of him.

“Sweet dreams,” Matty screams after you, a fucking shit-eating grin resonating in the letters.

“Fuck off!” He laughs, unbothered.

The sound follows you as you slam the door close. It’s only once you’re inside that Matty drives away.

—

“Can nobody do a fucking sauce right anymore?” Matty yells, dipping a spoon in a brown concoction, anger and stress sweating off of him. Gray streaked hair swoops over his forehead, curls taken inch by inch down through the day’s unstoppable dance. His cook’s jacket is wide open, stained near the hem, sleeves rolled up to reveal just a hint of his tattooed arms.

“What did you say about my sauce?” A fellow cook bites back, several inches shorter than Matty yet crowding him threateningly still.

Matty throws the pot back on the stove’s top and it bangs loudly. “That shit’s runny as fuck. It’s not going out.”

“It’s perfect.”

He scoffs, shoving the spoon on his chest, smearing his black shirt in leftover sauce. “It’s uneatable. Do it again.”

Although the cook seems to want to bite something back, Matty turns back to his station before he gets the chance. Fury radiates off of him as he grabs his knife, making quick work of his peppers, forearms flexing as he chops. His jaw clenches while he works, looking like he has more to say, like he’s actively biting his tongue to hold them back.

You follow the cut of his jaw religiously, wondering if it’d leave you bloody. Scarred on your open palms, on your titled neck, on your spread legs—

“Don’t fuck the line cooks.”

You jump, turning to come face to face with Veronica. Her hair is up in an unmade ponytail, arms full of perfectly dished plates, and she looks impatiently towards you. “What?”

“I said don’t,” each word get enunciated through her red lips, “fuck,” she presses, “the line cooks.” There’s a vague ominous air as she adds, “They’ll destroy you.”

You blush, feeling shy at being caught ogling. “I wasn’t going to.”

A derisory snort comes out of Veronica, looking you up and down. “Sure.” Her stare turns soft, almost worrisome. You realize her genuine care as she sighs, “Just— beware of him.”

Your eyes burn with the need to look his way. “Who?”

Veronica rolls her eyes. “Don’t play dumb. You’re not as innocent as you make yourself out to be.” There’s a note of pride in her. There’s a note of pride in you. Seen through the stuck-up ponytail and daddy’s name; accepted.

She twists around, walking away in a hurry. As you make your way to your recently seated table, you can’t stop throwing a self-indulgent look Matty’s way. He looks back.

You grin, wiggling your fingers in a wave. He snorts, shaking his head as he laughs.

—

You walk into the kitchen still wearing your uniform, although you’ve swapped the heels for some sneakers, your trusty bag swung over your shoulder. You rake a hand through your hair, scalp sore from the pigtails you’ve kept it into.

Matty is bent over the top of the stove, scrubbing at the iron with a dedicated look. You linger in the spectacle for a second, his arm flexed as he works the scraper, his frustrated little frown, his clenched jaw. He’s a sight to be savored; unfortunately, you’ve got no time.

“Hey,” you call, breaking him out of his transe. Matty straightens, turning to you with a nod of acknowledgement. “Front of house is all clean,” you say, pointing towards the doors leading to the dining room as though he could forget where it was. “Adam just left. Wife and kid and all that,” you continue with the lightness of a joke. “I’m off, too.”

Matty discards his scraper, leaning against the stove as he wipes his dirty hands with a towel. He frowns, asking, “How are you getting home?”

You snort at that, as if it was a silly question. “The bus,” you say with a condescending duh tone you must have picked up from one of the waitresses.

Matty throws the towel over his shoulder, repeating, unimpressed, “The bus?”

“Well, it’s kind of like a car, you see, but it’s longer, and it stops at several—”

He gives you a deadpan look, not even upping the corner of a smile for your wit. “Don’t be cute.”

You cock your head, trying to maintain that cool you’ve managed to exude instead of falling into some giggly, blushing thing. He always seems to bring that daunting side of you, like you revert back to a shy, innocent girl in his presence. It’s ironic, considering that divergence from the fatalistic line you’ve always followed is all his fault.

“It’s not safe,” Matty continues.

“It’s the bus.,” you laugh.

He stares at you, unflinching. “It’s New York. And it’s, what, two AM?” Matty shakes his head, falling further into his convictions. “I can’t let a pretty, young girl like you walk around at night.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re not my dad.”

He snorts, though there’s a cruel edge to it. He’s vicious when he retorts, “I think we’re both well aware of that.” The purposeful onceover leaves a dizzying dance through your belly, ravaging down your legs in childish excitement. You can’t stop the blush from spreading on your face this time. Winning, Matty declares definitively, “Just wait for me. I’m almost done. I’ll drive you home.”

“Fine,” you sigh, dropping your bag on the floor and climbing up the counter. You dig your phone from your waistband, scrolling as your feet kick through space.

You take a peek over your screen. Matty turns back to his work, scrubbing at some black grease as his hair falls over his face. There’s a panting, dedicated look on his face that’s not too far fetched from what you imagine— You shake your head.

Biting your lip, you call with faux-innocence, “Be quick, though.” You smirk, gleefully apprehending his reaction as you set the fatal trap, “I’ve got a date after.”

Matty freezes, though he does not look up. Stilted, he asks, “Really? Who?”

You sigh, kicking your feet, acting like you’re not hyperaware of the effect of your words on him. “One of the waiters. He said he’d come over after the crew’s night out. He’s 24,” you start conversationally. Matty's hand clenches around the unmoving scraper. You lick your teeth, trying to kill the devious smile on your lips as you finish, “I listened to your advice.”

Matty whips back to you. He finally sees you, sitting like a queen on your throne made of stainless steel, mischief and tease written all over your grin. His eyes narrow at you. “Are you fucking with me?”

“I don’t know. Am I?”

“You’re fucking with me.”

You cross your arms, shrugging. “Maybe. Maybe I just really want that orgasm you were talking about. Maybe I have to get it somewhere.”

A beat of silence lingers between the two of you as Matty stares, clogs turning in his mind. He takes a warning step towards you. “If you’re fucking with me…”

“Oh, my God,” you roll your eyes. “I can’t be anymore clear—”

Matty stands in front of you before you have time to finish. The words die in your throat as you blink up at him, losing that carelessness you had when he was several safe feet away.

He slithers between your thighs, pressing his hands on your naked knees, cocking his head at you. Your heart races inside your chest, skipping beats every time a fingertip presses into your flesh. He wants you to feel him, feel the merest edges of him like they are digging under your skin.

“You’ve got nothing to say now.” You swallow thickly. His fingers tiptoe up your thighs, smirking down at you as he coos, “Come on. What’s the other advice I gave you?”

“Give her one more—”

“Don’t talk it if you can’t walk it.” His hands near the hem of your skirt. He cocks his head at you. “Well?”

“I was fucking with you,” you breathe out, eyes mesmerizedly locked with his. “I said no to the waiter.”

Matty grins at that, proud. “Good,” he whispers back. “Because 24 years old are just as shit as 19 years old.”

“Except your prodigious self.”

“Except that, yeah.”

You smile. “I’m starting to believe you just think there’s no one who can fuck me like you.”

“Princess,” Matty starts. “I promise there’s no one who can fuck you like me.”

You hook your hands behind his neck, tugging him into you, smirking. “Prove it.”

He catches your lips with no hesitation, drawing you into a hot kiss like a starved man. He tastes like the cigarettes he chainsmoked with two bartenders, like the salt he added to his sauce, dipping a spoon in to taste test it, like the bourbon he let you take an indulgent sip of before downing it, laughing at your grimace.

There’s a giddy laugh threatening to slip out of your mouth, some unbelief that Matty Healy is finally kissing you. You’ve spent hours in that juvenile room of yours thinking back on your exchanges — the glances, the squeezes, the ghost kisses, the unbearable tension — one hand dipped between your thighs, eyes wrinkled close trying to remember the way his lower lip drooped with the weight of his cigarette. Wondering what it would be like to take it out, lick the tar off his tongue, finally know what he tastes like.

Your fingers travel up to his hair, messy and tired from a long day of work in a boiling kitchen. You pass your hands through — finally, finally — kissing him back with equal fervor. You slide your hips closer to him, trying to nestle his body into the crook of yours.

Matty grips your thighs like a lifebuoy, holding onto you like you could disappear from his hands with the trick of the light. There’s hunger in his mouth, hunger in the way he clutches you, hunger in the climbing hand groping one of your breasts, rolling his palm on your pebbled nipple. You moan into his mouth, shocked and terribly turned on.

You realize how much he must have been holding back all the times you’ve teased him, poking and prodding at him in hopes he would snap; the tension you’ve built inside of him, like a string pulled too far. Matty kisses you like he fears it might be the last time, like he needs to make it count. Like there’s a lesson to teach you.

He must not have figured you out as well as he’s been boasting about if he thinks this could ever be the last time.

You grip his hair, drawing him closer to you. He’s all limbs and lips, overwhelming, overheating. You break from his mouth just to catch your breath, forehead falling on his as you pant.

“Fucking hell,” he laughs, lazily thumbing at your tits. You difficultly stifle a moan, your lips parting as pleasure swoops in your belly.

“Don’t stop,” you already find yourself begging.

“Don’t you worry about that,” Matty tuts, sneaking a hand under your shirt to take your naked breast instead. The sensation is double the intensity, and you find yourself incapable of holding back a whiny groan. “When I’m done with you, you’ll have to call in sick tomorrow,” he boasts, watching the spectacle under him with mesmerism.

You laugh at that. “Sure.” Matty dips into your neck, leaving wet kisses down your collarbones. Your breath quickens, though you still find the words to tease, “You know, you’re such a boy still.”

Matty’s head snaps up, daggering you with a stare. You giggle at his offense, petting your hand through his curls. “I’ll show you boy,” he mutters, mostly to himself.

His hand falls out of your shirt, finding back its rising course on your thighs. He flips your skirt up, showing the pink underwear you wore into work. A groan comes from the back of his throat. You smirk, parting your legs further, giving him an eyeful.

You think he’ll kiss you again. Unbuckle his belt. Drag the pink lace off your legs with a wink.

Instead, Matty kneels in front of you.

Your breath hitches at the sight; Matty on his knees, looking up at you with those intense, brown eyes, swollen lips from a torrid kiss parting in anticipation. Thrill descends down your belly, gripping it tellingly. You wait for his next move on the edge of your seat— literally, as he drags you near the end of the counter and kisses up your spread thighs.

Your ex-boyfriend went down on you once, some awkward, wet thing between your thighs he came back up hating. You didn’t mind; you found the whole experience strange too, faking moans as he lapped at the wrong place, overthinking about what you must taste like. You were glad, secretly, that you didn’t have to go through the whole ordeal again, even though you were giving him plenty of head.

When Matty kisses a stripe up your skin, swallowing your thigh with a rough hand, there’s a strange sense of excitement. Through his nonchalance, he’s always been precise and dedicated. A dexterous man, with surely a dexterous tongue.

Maybe he’s right. Maybe 19 year olds are shit. Maybe Matty can blow your mind.

You stroke your hand through his hair, grinning as he shivers. “You’ve talked a big game,” you say, though your voice is choked. “I hope you can back it up.”

Matty hums, sneaking a thumb straight to your clit. He finds it with practiced ease, pressing into it before faintly circling it. Euphoria shoots up your spine. You bite back a scream, gripping his hair, rolling your hips into him for more. Your eyes widen, surprised by your new reaction. Even when it’s your own knowledgeable hand between your thighs, you never find a hit of pleasure this true this quickly, let alone your sloppy ex.

“Don’t you worry your pretty, little head, princess,” Matty whispers, continuing to raise your temperature impossibly high with a focused finger. “I can.”

And then, before you can quip back something else about his clear bravado, his lips latch around your clit, sucking on it. “Fuck,” is your visceral reaction, your head thumping against the wall. His stubble rubs on your inner thighs.

Matty doesn’t stop there, of course, descending his hand to tease at your entrance. His tongue swipes at you diligently, overwhelming you with ecstatic feelings. You can’t make sense of the waves attacking you, following the rhythm he licks on you.

You tug on his curls with a death grip, half-convinced you might unroot them. You grind into his face, your thighs closing in on his cheek in a desperate attempt to keep him close. As though he, too, could disappear any instant. Stand up and leave the room, say he didn’t mean it.

But he doesn't. Instead, he slips one finger inside of you, thrusting and curling expertly. Your free hand grips the counter, attaching you to some semblance of reality.

He leaves your cunt long enough to whisper, all cheeky and smug, “How am I doing?”

“Fuck,” you cry, drawing him back to your soaked entrance. He licks your sensitive bundle of nerves with a smile as you drip on his chin. “You’re fine,” you say, still out of breath, because you can’t stop being difficult.

Matty makes a noise of offense from the back of his throat, breaking away again as he arches an eyebrow at you. “Fine?” He repeats, unamused. He adds a second finger inside of you, letting the pornographic sounds of your sopping cunt ring through the empty kitchen.

You bite your lip to hold back the scream you want to let free, your legs shaking around him. Pleasure so thoroughly builds inside of you, stretching languidly under your heated skin. A moan ends up slipping through your tyrannical guards. Matty latches onto that, fucking into you quicker, drawing eyerolls and whines out of your swollen lips.

You’ve always been implacably in control. A girl of steel, focused and stubborn. How easily he wrecks you, unbuilds you from your very careful bricks.

Matty smirks at your reactions, thumbing your clit next as he watches you washed with bliss. He kisses your knee, quickening his pace. “Is this fine?”

“Yes,” you nod. There’s something boiling under your skin, bubbling in warning. You sense the fire, curling your toes, licking up your weak legs, joining in Matty’s relentless fingers inside of you.

He pouts. “Only fine?” Turning his head, he kisses your other knee. The delicate press of his lips tingles up your thigh.

“It’s—” You cry out a moan, wrinkling your face shut. Fire dances in your belly, pressing against your skin. You want it free.

“What?” Matty asks. He bites your knee, demanding your attention. Your eyes open in electroshocked surprise, peering down at him as you pant. The room spins around you, a world of spice and stainless steel. “Come on, admit it.” Your eyes lock with his, dark and intense and so fucking smug. He’s amused at your pathetic attempts to lie to him. He knows.

You huff. “It’s okay.”

His eyes darken. You halt your breath, waiting for the shoe to drop. You’re afraid he’ll stop, feel his desire to do so in the bated breath, to teach you a lesson. Your legs buzz, ready to trap him between them, beg him to forgive you. Apprehension swoops in your belly, meshing terribly well with the building bliss.

Matty doesn’t even slow. His mouth finds your clit again, furiously licking at you as he thrusts his fingers. You scream once more, your hips moving in instinct, bucking against his sticky face.

“Matty, Matty,” you chant, in complete contradiction to your taunts. Fire climbs up your chest, flushing it, falling down your arms. Your entire body shakes, the hints of an earthquake hitting you. “I’m—“

His fingers curl just so, finding the perfect angle. Your head lits aflame, fire swirling around your putty brain, and you’re burning down. You come with a guttural cry, gripping Matty’s hair, the letters of his name loosening on your tongue.

You come down slowly, difficultly, as your limbs unclench their choking hold on him. You can’t seem to quite catch your breath, panting as you blink and blink, trying to get used to this new world.

Fuck. This is what a real man does.

You grin, a laugh bubbling out of you. “Wow,” you say, smiling down at him.

Matty still looks at you with that dangerous, hungry look. He wipes his chin, sharp teeth flashing at you as he stands up. He kisses your jaw, your neck, relishing in the moans you give back. Your skin is oversensitive, already too hot and only getting worse when he spreads a hand on your waist.

He sneaks under your shirt, raising it, throwing it off your shoulders. His eyes find you, ravenous, taking in the matching pink bra to your long lost underwear. You flush, looking away shyly.

His callused fingertips find your waist again, teasing a ghost touch over your ribs, to your back, up your spine, slowly and faintly enough you’re half sure you might be dreaming this whole thing up.

Matty kisses your collarbone, undoing the claps of your bra with one hand, letting it fall down your shoulders. He dips his head out of your neck, looking down at your bare breasts, nipples peaked in perfect offering. A groan chokes in the back of his throat. His hand finds one of your tits, swallowing it as he grabs it. You sigh, pleasure waving through you already.

Matty finds the crook of your neck again, kissing up its curve to whisper in your ear, “What’s your name?” You frown, cocking your head, telling him.

Matty tsks. “I’m not done, then.” He takes you by the thighs, picking you off the counter and lowering you to the squeaky clean floor. You cry in surprise, clutching his shoulders.

The tiles are cold on your back. He spreads your legs out for him, kissing back down your body. You rest on your elbows, watching him as you pant.

“You’ve already—“ Surely, he must be wanting something more reciprocating now.

Matty shushes you. “Let me do my job.” He unzips your skirt, dragging it off your legs, taking a second to take in the sight of you.

He opens your thighs, readying you for him again. You breathe quicker, incapable of keeping up with his moves, head turning at the idea of another earthshattering orgasm. You want your body to crack and break next.

Matty looks up at you, smirking. He spits on your cunt. His tongue sticks out, licking up your juices next. You roll your eyes, pleasure razing through you, your elbows giving out as you fall to the ground like a wireless doll. A teasing laugh blooms out of him as he dives back in.

It’s sloppier this time, given you’ve practically drenched your inner thighs. He throws two of your legs over his shoulders and eats you like a starved man, licking and fucking and sucking. You can’t keep up with his burning tongue, though you don’t try to, letting yourself be washed in the feelings he coaxes out of you instead.

You moan freely, unashamed of the pathetic sounds you let out for him. You’re glad to be on the floor just so you don’t have to hold up any part of your body. You’re weightless, discombobulated, choosing to exist as only a body overtaken with euphoria.

You say his name most of all, grinding on his tongue. Matty seems to like that, answering with a particularly skillful swipe, gripping your hip bones with two greedy hands.

It’s honestly obnoxious of him to not even use his hands.

His tongue fucks into you, his nose rubbing at your clit. He holds you like you could shatter under him, melt into syrup and seep into the cracks. It might very well be possible with the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins.

“I’m right there,” you pant in warning, gripping his hair to keep him still, rolling into his face with sloppy hips. He laughs at that, the sound resonating in your cunt, and ecstasy weeps inside of you. “Just—”

You don’t have time to warn him of anything as he runs his tongue furiously. Your cunt flutters, clenching around his tongue. You scream, your thighs dropping completely open in surrounder. He sucks on your clit and you crack, splintering apart, falling into the ground. You feel yourself shake, buzzing and buzzing, reality slipping from your fingers as he continues to lap at you.

It’s too much too soon; you push him out of your legs with a whine, pouting down at him. Matty indulges in your silent request, dipping into one of your thighs to wipe the slick from his chin. It dries on your skin as he climbs up your body, out of breath.

Matty kisses the tip of your nose, smiling down at you. You’re wrecked, your sweaty hair spilling around your head, your lips bitten raw, your skin flushed. You grin at him still, slack, thoroughly happy and satisfied. You rake a hand through his hair, messier than they were before your ruinous hold on them.

“Fine?” Matty teases.

You hum, looping your arm around his neck. “Maybe a bit better than fine,” you taunt back, raising your head to catch his lips. He scoffs in your mouth, though kisses you back indulgently.

He leaves it to litter kisses down your neck, your collarbone, your chest, finding a nipple and sucking it. Your breaths quicken, something close to pants leaving your dry mouth. As he licks at it with a tongue you’ve grown sinfully familiar with, his hands slip to his jeans, undoing the buttons eagerly. You hear the zip go down, excited shivers climbing up your spine.

Matty tugs himself out of his pants. You look down to watch the spectacle, biting your lip as his hard cock springs into his hand. He strokes it once, twice. Rises from your tits to kneel between your legs, towering over your body.

“I’ll make sure you can’t even walk into work tomorrow.” Thrill burns at your skin. Your legs fall open for him in devotion, obeying to his words like gospel.

“Promise?” You smile up at him, cheeky.

Matty snorts, gripping one of your thighs to raise your hips, lining his cock with your dripping entrance. “Only promise of mine you can trust, darling.” Locking his dark eyes with yours, he slowly enters you.

“Shit,” you cry, spasming around him. You reach out blindly, catching his hand on your hip, wrapping your fist around two of his fingers and tightening. It sends the message clear enough; he chuckles, bottoming out. You moan in relief, bliss blooming around your bones, heart fluttering in great apprehension. You bite back a giggle, playing with the curls at his nape.

Matty bends back down to kiss your cheek, holding himself up with one arm, laying still between your thighs. He’s buried so deep, you feel your nerve endings rearrange for him. Your cunt throbs around him, begging for more, but he just sweetly sprinkles your face with love.

You scrunch your nose, shaking him off. “I want more,” you demand, raising your hips as proof. Faint pleasure ripples through you, but it’s still not enough.

Matty nips at your jaw, torturously frozen between your thighs. “Wait. You haven’t had sex in two years. I don’t want to break you.”

You furrow your eyebrows, a bratty pout storming on your face. Meanly, childishly, you clench your fist around his digits. “You won’t break me,” you argue. “You need to check that ego of yours.”

Matty snorts. “The lady is impatient. As if I didn’t already give her two great orgasms.”

“They were fine, remember?”

“A bit more than fine.”

“Just a bit.”

Even slower than he entered you, Matty thrusts out of you, watching intently as the pleasure reverberates inside of you, all the way to your lips parting in greed.

He lingers in that moment once more. You sigh frustratedly, staring up at him unimpressed. His shit-eating grin catches on his lips. He thrusts back in just as unhurriedly, repeating his vicious cycle until you’re so thoroughly ready you might lose your mind from the lack of something.

Something quick. Something hard. Something great.

“I’m not fucking breakable,” you finally snap.

Matty hums, shaking off your hand easily to palm your tits, kissing down your neck. “This is how you treat princesses.”

“I will make you eat that nickname until you have to spit it out in chunks.”

Matty laughs in the curve of your neck, shaking his head. His hair tickles your jaw. He comes back out to peer at you, amused. He grinds his hips into you, barely any real friction. “She’s got threats.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “I’ve got more if you don’t fucking move.”

Matty tsks. “For a smart, college girl, you’re not being very bright. Have I fucked your working brain out of you already?”

You cock your head, frowning at him. Matty smiles, hooking your knee higher. The angle is heavenly— though he still doesn’t fuck, he hits you deep. You bite your lip, shivering, feeling pleasure tingle up your legs. “I thought you were all proper. Raised right. Weren’t you?” Again, you give him a confused look. “Don’t good girls say please?”

Your eyes widen in understanding. You cup both his cheeks, staring into his eyes as you moan, “Please, Matty. Fuck, I need you to fuck me. I need you to—“

Matty snaps his hips into yours, a quick, relieving rhythm. You mewl, head rolling on the tiles. “There she is,” Matty coos. “My good, little girl.” You nod at him, agreeing with anything out of his mouth now that he fucks like this.

Matty searches for the right pace, switching up his flow and scrutinizing your face as he does so. Hard, fast, deep, slow; he tries it all, mixing and matching and making your insides throb around him. Your mouth parts uselessly, slack moans rolling down your chin. He licks your jaw, leaving you wet as he pants.

Your hands on his cheeks flex in place, digging into his jaw, the faint stubble rubbing on your palms. You might very well be hurting him, but you’re too gone to care. He deserves it, anyway. You don’t know why, but you’re sure he does.

“Is this what you wanted?”

You smile wide at him. His eyes narrow, expecting the taunt as you say, “Well, I still know my name.”

“Is that so?” Matty says, sitting up on his heels. He holds his weight with a hand near your waist, using the other to raise your ass up the ground. With this new angle, he fucks into you deeper, quicker.

You whine, your hand wrapping around his grounding arm, holding onto it desperately. Your claws dig into his tattoos. Ecstasy waves through you, pushing and pulling with his strokes. Your head suddenly feels very light, faraway from your bared neck.

Finally, he seems to settle on a pattern. How quickly he’s successfully read the mindless sounds, figured you out from the pathetic eyerolls overtaking your face when he quickens his pace. Pleasure weeps inside of you, burning through your skin. You don’t ever want him to stop.

He thrusts in and out of you frantically. Deep, long strokes that perfectly hit this heavenly spot inside of you. He grins down at you like he knows, burying against it again and again until you’re melting in his arms.

You can’t do anything but cry for him as Matty undoes the last remnants of your brick walls. You lose any semblance of shame, bucking your hips in the same rhythm as his, calling his name in your father’s kitchen. You’re too gone to care, too gone to even think of it.

“My pretty girl,” Matty moans above you. His hand caresses your hip, that godforsaken callus on his index finger rubbing the bone. “Even prettier than I imagined.”

You give him a slack smile, thrill and pride spinning in your head. He thought of you. How you want to know all the fantasies he holds in that treasure chest brain of his. Want to know if he touched himself thinking of them.

Your hands dig into his forearm, staring up at him. “Tell me.” Matty shakes his head. “Come on,” you plea, spoiled. Matty is unflappable, smirking down at you as he fucks into you. “Please, sir.”

Matty’s hips falter in their movement, a low groan slipping from his lips. His hand digs into your hips, staring down at you in shock. “Fuck,” is all he chokes out.

You grin, a greedy thing finding its new weapon. You palm your own breast, playing with your nipple as you moan. “Was it like this, sir?” You whine, twisting your fingers, letting the pleasure wash over you. “Is this how you imagined it?”

Matty moans at the sight of you, flicking between your face and your tits, unsure of where to settle. He’s lost that shit-eating smirk of his, that certainty, that unshakeable control. He’s watching you, obsessed.

“No, you were actually well-behaved in my dreams.”

You snort, shaking your head. “Not true.”

Matty sighs, climbing a hand from your hip up your waist, groping the forgotten, lonely breast. “Nah, you’re right,” he admits. He mirrors your moves, rubbing his thumb as you do. “I wanted you like this,” he whispers, mesmerized with you. “Under me. Fucking purring for me.”

His hips find back that relentless pace between your thighs, quick and hard. Ecstasy coils in your belly, breathing, alive, eating through your limbs. You shiver, moaning his name.

“I wanted you on the steps of the emergency staircase, riding my cock for everyone to see. Good, proper girl like you, fucked dumb by a dirty man like me.” You nod, encouraging him, biting your lip raw.

He lays back over you, maintaining his quick strokes. His pelvis rubs on your clit with every thrust, making your body tingle tellingly. Pleasure presses against your skin, fire simmering beneath it. Maybe you really will crash and burn this time, maybe you’ll split.

Matty leans into your neck, sucking your earlobe into his mouth, whispering in the crook of it, “Bending you over the bar. Tugging on that ponytail. Railing pretty princess so hard she starts crying.” Matty’s hand cups your jaw, rubbing on the skin as he peers up at you. “Fuck, I wanted to ruin that makeup.” One finger wipes at your chin, surely spreading your strawberry lipgloss. “I’d spend my days on my knees.”

His words, his hands, his cock, it’s all too much for you. You scream, the sounds falling into his hand. Hot ecstasy bubbles under your skin, threatening the very edges of you. You roll your head, but Matty keeps you grounded, his fingers digging into your jaw.

He stares at you unflinchingly. “Open your mouth, princess.” You do as you say, parting your lips wide open. Matty eyes you with a smirk.

He leans in, spitting in your open mouth. A thrilled shiver pianos down your spine. You should find this repulsive, but your cunt clenches around him in complete contradiction. He grins condescendingly at you, undeniably aware of his effect on you. “Here’s that nickname.”

You roll your eyes. You throb around him, bliss razing through your limbs. Your toes curl, your fingers flex, and you feel everything in you pull tight in preparation—

“Matty—”

“Tut-tut,” Matty says, patting your lips. “Not my name.”

“Sir,” you whine, throwing your head back. “I’m gonna come.”

He flashes his teeth at you, wolfish. “Magic word?”

“Please.” Matty rewards you with deep strokes, hitting again and again at the exact right spot, and soon you’re trashing under him, completely boundless.

“Oh, God,” you scream, “Oh, God.”

You tremble under him, your face completely shutting, your lips parting. You burst, crying out for him, trapping his hips with two strong thighs. You crash against the floor, spilling on the tiles like dropped salt. Flecks of you roll on the linoleum as you finally come. His name rips from your throat, a delicious chant you can’t control. It’s all you know.

The world slips from your fingers; everything relaxes in great waves. Relieving fingers dancing on your skin, making you not a stone, but a girl. A woman.

You sigh happily, letting go of Matty’s arm, opening your eyes to examine the crescent moons you left on his skin. Some branding iron of yours.

Your head falls back on the ground, rolling lazily. You feel lax, drooping on your bones. Maybe you’re truly one with the ground.

Matty kisses your cheek. “You did so well, baby,” he whispers proudly. You smile, too tired to open your eyes again.

His hips rock into yours slowly, grinding. Everything in you is hypersensitive to him. Your skin buzzes just from the faint movement, burning ecstasy waking up in your belly from nothing.

“Do you want to ride me?” Matty asks, voice rough in the crook of your ear. Just the idea sounds sore and exhausting.

You pout, shaking your head, whining, “‘M too tired.”

“Alright,” Matty kisses your temple. “Just lay there and be pretty.” You nod in agreement.

Indulgently, Matty doesn’t follow that brutal, heart racing tempo. He fucks you slow and deep, grinding his hips into yours, reaching between your bodies to rub at your clit. You whimper under him, clutching his shoulders, wrinkling your eyes as pleasure drips on your ribs.

It’s barely anything, but it’s still too much. You’re fucked out, sensitive and exhausted, and every stroke just resonates deep inside of you. His name dances on your tongue, languid pleasure coursing through your sloppy veins. Matty accidentally slips out of you, his cock hitting your thigh. He groans frustratedly, slipping back into your wet cunt, though you’re barely aware of it.

Your hands paw at his shoulders. A frown dents your forehead. You blink your eyes open, staring at him unhappily. “Take off your shirt,” you demand. Really, it’s not fair you’re naked and he’s perfectly dressed.

Matty huffs a laugh, stilling to reach behind his head, pulling his white shirt off his shoulders. Though he makes an attempt to drape back over you, you keep him away. Your eyes greedily takes him in: his tattoos, his stomach, his biceps. He’s stronger than you had imagined, his muscles sharper, rippling and flexing with strenuous effort. You bite your lip, feeling arousal pool in your belly.

“Happy?” Matty says, although there’s a faint blush on his face.

“Extremely,” you nod curtly, flashing your teeth at him. Matty shakes his head, thrusting back into you.

Your mind drips from your ears, faraway and drowsy. He’s faintly there between your thighs. Your lips part in pleasure, but you’re mostly distracted by the sight of him. Your eyes wash over all his tattoos, tracing a finger over his deer tattoo, trying to memorize it.

Matty slips from your legs again, this time hitting your swollen clit. You jump, biting your lip. Frustrated, he lines himself up, sliding in slowly, watching your face. He makes another low growl of dissatisfaction, leaving you entirely.

“Fuck, you’re too wet,” Matty sighs. You laugh, watching him in disbelief. Too wet. You shake your head. Here’s a fucking problem. “I’m serious,” he says, though there’s definitely an amused smile on his lips.

He grabs his discarded apron, wiping your wetness off his dick. Then he cleans the mess between your thighs meticulously, shaking his head. “You know, it’s not better if you’re too wet. You lose friction. When I’m fucking you, I want you to feel it.”

Matty dips two fingers down your entrance, taking a pool of your soaking arousal, bringing them back to your lips. You open up before he has to say, sucking them into your mouth. He grins proudly, fucking elated to have you finally obeying for him. “Good girl,” he praises, lining his cock again.

He thrusts into you and this time, shit, you feel it.

You feel awoken from your daze, zapped into reality. You grip his shoulders uselessly, moaning around his fingers. He’s wild and rapid, showing you how it’s really supposed to feel. You can’t wrap your head around the feeling, overrun by his hips.

Matty slips his wet fingers out of your mouth. Pathetic whines and moans leave your lips unsmothered, caught in a hot tongue kissing you. His stubble rubs at your chin, but it quickly leaves your mind as his freed digits find your clit again. You hiss at the first contact, sensitive. He circles it gently, kissing you better.

Your lungs are on fire. Your head spins. You’re so deeply aware of his cock inside of you, driving you wild. You can’t make sense of the ground under your back. You scream for him, scream for the sky, scream because you can’t do anything else.

“I can’t—” You shake your head. “Fuck, it’s too—” Another moan leaves your mouth. Pressure grows in your stomach, spreading through each limb. Already, you almost want to snort.

Matty’s mouth grazes over your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. He kisses each spot, leaving a few sweet pecks. The complete opposition of his ruthless cock makes your head dizzy. Licking your shoulder, Matty opens his mouth and bites you. Pain and pleasure strikes through you; you cry, falling apart.

“Matty—”

It almost surprises you that you can still, feeling the edges around you blur into non-existence. You live only in the euphoria, in momentary feelings, in the now. Your body trashes under him, ecstatic, boneless. Your climax hits you hard and true, a mighty hunter hungry for blood.

You come back down slowly, difficultly, trying to make sense of his arms as you breathe. “Fuck,” is all you can say, shortwinded and gooey. “Oh, my— Fuck.”

Matty flutters kisses on your shoulder, surely loving away the marks of his teeth. He rises slightly to whisper in your ear, “Remember what I said?” You shake your head, not in any place to think, let alone remember anything. A smirk grows on his face, tickling your skin. “Give her one more.”

You blink your eyes open, staring at him incredulously. You can barely feel your legs and he wants to— He’s dead fucking serious. “I’m too hot,” you whine. “It’s fucking burning in here.”

“Alright, princess.” Matty slides out of you. A moan of dissatisfaction leaves at the feeling of emptiness. You clench around nothing, suddenly unused to the lack of him. Matty stands up, tugging you with him, picking you up in his arms as he walks the kitchen.

He opens the walk-in fridge. Cool immediately surrounds you, making you sigh pleasantly. He caresses your hair, whispering, “Can I?” Though you know you’ll regret it tomorrow, you nod at him. “My brave girl,” Matty coos, delicately putting you down.

Like his favorite doll, you let him puppeteer you to your knees, pushing you until your tits hit the freezing ground. You hiss, jolted awake by the sudden cold. Your head turns back to stare at him, kneeling behind you. “Does that feel good, baby?” You nod, which he tuts at. “Use your words.”

“Yeah, it’s—” In complete contradiction, heat pools in your stomach. Your hard nipples on the icy floor sends a rush of ecstasy up your exhausted body. You’re suddenly quite aware of the world, though it restricts to this walk-in and Matty Healy’s cock as it teases your entrance.

“That’s not really using your words, is it?” He slides over your wet cunt, hitting your overeager bundle of nerves, but never giving in. You huff, understanding his silent demand.

“It’s really good,” you nod, moving further up to rest your tits on a fresh bout of frozen ground. Again, a thrilled rush makes your head spin. You cry, laying your cheek down, surrendering yourself. “You’re— You were right. No one can fuck me like you.”

“I know I’m right.” Finally, Matty enters you. His hips buck into your dripping core, sloppy and messy from extenuation. There’s a lack of technique, just raw need and want as he fucks into you with abandon. He grips your thighs, bending into your body to kiss at your shoulders, whispering dirty promises again. “Just me,” he pants. “From now on it’s just me.”

You nod at him. He’s ruined you for other men anyway; you don’t think you’ll even be able to walk without remembering the shape of his cock inside of you.

One of Matty’s hands leaves you, resting on the ground beside your sweaty bodies. He lingers there for some time, then sneaks it under you, finding your clit expertly. You gasp as his cold fingers make contact with the hot bud. He swipes them rapidly, making you drip on his cock.

“I’m close,” you moan already, feeling that telltale euphoria wave through your trembling limbs.

“Me, too,” Matty moans above you. He grips your hair and tugs, raising you from the ice, kissing your jaw. His low sounds bury in your skin. His hips snap harder into you, chasing both of your cosmic ends.

Your face wrinkles as pleasure overwhelms you. You shake it frantically, whining, “I wanna see you.”

Matty laughs, slipping out of you just to flip you around. Again, he pushes you on your back, raising your legs until your knees near your shoulders, wasting no time to bury inside of you. He hits you even deeper this time, shockingly possible. You whine. His fingers find your clit, rubbing it with precision. You travel the planes of his back, digging your nails in desperately.

He looks as fucked out as you. His gray-streaked, sweaty hair falls over his forehead. His swollen lips part in euphoria, chin still sticky with you. His skin is flushed. His arms shake, exhausted and overworked.

“I’m there,” Matty pants above you. You nod in agreement, feeling the same building bliss spin around your head. “Are you gonna come for me, princess?” Again, you nod eagerly.

“Yeah— Yes, sir!”

Matty hits the spot with one artful stroke and you’re done, mewling loudly as you come on his cock. You soar out of your bones, pleasure ravaging through you with deadly fingers. You shake under his body, screaming and crying, breaking apart. Vengefully, your nails rake down his back, clawing at him.

With a hot groan in your ear, Matty slips out of you, coming on your stomach. He shivers above you, wrinkling his face in euphoria, white cum hitting the planes of your belly. He breathes in heavily, opening his eyes to smile down at you.

The world sways around you. You’re bone-deep tired, struggling to keep your eyes open, to even think of moving a finger. Everything is hazy, some ghostly daze draping over the walk-in. You sigh, fluttering your eyes closed.

Teasingly, Matty goes down your body, spreading your thighs to lap at your juices. You cry, head raising up the ground miraculously, pushing his head away. “Goddamn, enough. I get it. You’re the best sex of my life.” Matty chuckles, pinching your thigh, before falling beside you. He pants, exhausted. “That was even better than I imagined,” you say languidly, smiling slackly at no one.

“Same.”

“I don’t think I can take the bus now,” you frown. “Or tomorrow.”

“Call in sick,” Matty says, smirking at you cheekily. You roll your eyes at his antics. “What? If one person can do it, it’s daddy’s girl.”

You slap his shoulder. “Don’t talk about my dad when you were just inside of me.”

“No?”

You up your nose. “It’s uncouth.”

Matty laughs, shaking his head, sitting up. He groans as he stands, as though his entire body was sore. His back is littered with furiously red scratches; you flush, recognizing the shape of your nails. He leaves the walk-in just to come back with your clothes, pulling his shirt down his chest.

He wipes at your soaked thighs with his apron, then at the cum on your stomach, cleaning you thoroughly. With delicate care, he puts your shirt over your head, pulling your skirt up. He stashes your bra in your bag, giving you a teasing look as he shoves your underwear in his pants. Again, you roll your eyes at his obvious antics.

“Do you need to eat anything?” Matty asks. “We’re in the walk-in, afterall.”

Your face scrunches. “Oh God, I fucked in the walk-in. I won’t ever be able to come in here, now.”

He snorts. “Believe me, we weren’t the first and won’t be the last.” You wrinkle your nose in disdain. “Wow. Miss can get railed in the fridge but it’s a problem when others do it?”

“It’s unsanitary.”

“I think there's still some of your juices on the floor,” Matty says, pointing randomly at the ground. You flush, trying to spot the rumored stain, embarrassment seeping through your cheeks. Matty doesn’t let you linger on it, grabbing two of your hands and pulling you up on your feet. “Food?”

“Are you hungry?”

“Well,” Matty smiles smugly, and you already groan in regret, “I already ate.”

“Nevermind.” You try taking a step, but your feet wobble under you, pain prickling up your thighs and the inside of it most of all. You fall into Matty, clutching his arm. “Shit.”

“Call in sick tomorrow.” You shake your head stubbornly. Matty cups your cheek, making you look at him. “Call in sick tomorrow,” he stresses again.

You narrow your eyes. “You just want to say you fucked a girl so hard she had to take a day off.”

Matty gives you a shit-eating grin. “Nah. This is a regular Tuesday for me.” You slap his shoulder again, harder this time. “There she is,” he coos. “Come on. Let me drive you home. I’ll make you something.”

You let him guide you out of the walk-in fridge, resting on his body. “I don’t think I have any food,” you warn.

“I can whip something up. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but I’m a chef.”

“Really?” You say in faux-shock. “I just thought you were the eye candy.”

“Not everyone stares at me as much as you, princess.” You roll your eyes, though don’t try to claim otherwise. Matty slaps the lights shut. You leave the kitchen behind, strangely untouched, like it hadn’t seen some very vile things a few minutes ago.

“Oh,” you cry excitedly, “Can you make me some mac and cheese?” Matty sighs.

—

You’re hanging around the host stand, picking your nails and giggling as Veronica describes her recent affair with a pharmacist in explicit details. She mimes the moves, stalling when a guest approaches. You both plaster a smile on your face and point to the bathroom with a sickly sweet voice.

You bite your lip to stop yourself from describing your recent affair. The memory of Matty between your thighs is still omniscient on your skin— mostly because you’re still sore, walking the restaurant a little funny. Although you burst with the need to tell someone, you’re half-convinced Veronica would bite your head off if she knew.

Adam walks back to his stand, sighing as he sees the both of you. “Must you guys hang here?”

You cock your head, teasing, “How else would we annoy you?” Veronica laughs.

He shakes his head, grabbing a pen and pointing towards you. “The boss wants to see you,” is all Adam says.

“Ooh,” Veronica sings, poking at your ribcage. “Someone’s in trouble.” You give her a deadpan look. “You’re right, you’re right.” She nods. “He probably just wants to know which color you want your new pony to be!”

You shake your head, chuckling at her. “You guys are seriously deluded on how much money we have.”

Veronica sticks her tongue out as you walk away. You zigzag through the tables, nodding at a waiter in greeting, grabbing empty plates and piling them on your arms. You push the kitchen doors with your back, dropping the dirty dishes in the sink. You smile at Larry, fluttering your lashes at him. He always cleans your utensils first if you flirt a little with him.

You can’t stay to chat, crossing the kitchen for the office door. You dodge a bus boy, giving him an annoyed look, reminding him to call corners. A small snort comes from beside you. You turn, finding Matty sizzling onions in a pan. He gives you a grin, knowing and smug, like he’s thinking of you naked in the spot where you stand. He winks at you. Your cheeks heat, biting back a smile as you continue your walk.

You knock at the door. Behind, a somber voice tells you to come in. You crack it, peering your head inside. Your father sits at his desk, flipping through papers, frowning.

“You wanted to see me?”

He jumps as he looks at you, seemingly surprised as though he’s not the one who asked you here. He nods eagerly, waving you in. “Hi, sweetheart.”

“Hi, Dad,” you answer back, walking into the office. Instinctively, you start organizing the messy, scattered papers on his desk in neat lines. “Why did you call me here?”

“I wanted to ask you how you were,” he explains. “I didn’t have time to welcome you. I’m sorry— God, I’ve just been so busy.” He frowns at you, a concerned look on his face. “You like it here, right? I know you missed your shift yesterday.”

Memories of Matty’s tongue licking into you, his fingers curling, his cock pressing— Dirty words sticky with want— Vile things on the tiles— The world slipping from your fingers— Pleasure pumping, coiling, bursting—

You flash your teeth. “Oh, I love it.”

#she is here and she is Foul #linecook!au #matty healy smut #matty healy #matty healy x reader #matty healy imagine #the 1975 smut #writing #smut #imagine

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hotdogdynamitezzz · 2 years

Text

Your Fashion and Style Guide

Pt.1

Part 2 (Libra - Pisces) Here

Use your Rising & Venus sign!

Aries:

Prioritizes comfort but doesn't compromise for their fashion style

Absolutely rocks streetwear & athleisure

Prefers sporty fits the most!

Looks best in red & black clothing

Their style always has some sort of edge to it

Big on grunge and vintage rockband t shirts

They love combat boots and they generally prefer flame or camo print clothes

This sounds odd but they kinda remind me of a racecar aesthetic?

Very Sharp with their fashion choices

They look great in leather jackets

A bold colour paired with a neutral for a high contrast look suit them best

They love the rockstar or baddie aesthetic

Looks ~

Taurus:

They have three modes, classy bitches, edgy e-girls & bohemian botanical.

But generally, I see classy and soft the most

Green, Brown, Beige, White, Black, Pink & Red for sensuality.

They love wearing neutrals but they often mix it up with some colour now and again

They usually have some sort of special necklace

A fan of pearls because it's classic

But diamonds are their best friends too ofc

Fuzzy & Fluffy cardigans or sweaters have their heart, especially the white and brown colours

They are into floral and flannel patterns

Their favorite colour options are brown & pink or white & pink 🕊💕

They usually dress more modest but make it look high fashion

They usually like to incorporate silk or a corset into their outfit, being ruled by venus makes them into a sensual and seductive look

Generally they favour comfortable fabrics and silk

Looks ~

Gemini:

I noticed they don't really like dark colours and generally prefer brighter neutrals or colours

They like off-the-shoulder, cold shoulder, cutout tops & cool designs on their shirts whether its long sleeve or not

They choose tops based on the arm style such as balloon sleeves or cutouts

Asymmetrical styles suit them best

Colors are white, bright pinks, and green.

Earrings & Bracelets are their favorite accessories

They like a fairy aesthetic, something that feels whimsical

Likes to switch between feminine and masculine clothing frequently

Very experimental with their clothes

Looks ~

Cancer:

Either soft and girly or moody and dark!

They prefer to keep it modest unless showing off their chest

Their choice of jewelry are pearl necklaces

The shoes they tend to favour are chunky block heels & sandals

Prefers blue, pink & white or black

Soft and flowy clothes like cardigans or kimonos

Knee high socks + sweater dresses look great

They love sweetheart necklines

Into crop tops! Usually silk crops

They like to pair tight clothes with a flowy jacket! Especially if it has a pop of colour

Overall style changes depending on how they're feeling that day

Looks ~

Leo:

Everytime I looked up a Leo rising celebrity that were ALWAYS wearing sunglasses

A fan of sunhats too!

Anything bright & metallic suit them perfectly

They look lavish in silky and shiny materials

They tend to wear fur coats

They like long and sturdy coats in general!

Usually they own big statement jewelry

Everything looks shiny tbh especially their hair.

Sparkly clothes & sequins are their weakness

They could rock sundresses

They look great in animal print, specifically cheetah or leopard.

Bold fashion is their go-to

Even if they wear neutral colours they make sure the texture stands out

Jumpsuits were really popular among them! I think they like to look playful but glamorous at the same time

They will not leave the house unless they look ready for a fashion show lol

Their motive is to standout and turn heads.

Looks ~

Virgo:

Less is more for them

They like simple t-shirts with cute mottos like "be kind" or some shit that HAS to be written in small font or they won't wear it LOL

A Preppy Style & Sweater Vests are their thing

So is gingham print

They rock high-fashion looks

Fake glasses are a cute trend they look good in

A big fan of trench coats and cardigans

They prefer a business casual look

They prefer earthy tones & greens.

They are all about the simplicity in versatility! For instance they usually like black jeans and a white top but the top can be a tube top or a halter top based on what they want that day

They LOVE BLAZERS

Very picky about fashion, I find super bright colors often turn them away

Quality > Quantity for them

A lot of them look great in crop tops, or waist accentuating clothing like kim k is known for

Watches are usually a staple item they prefer

Looks ~

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wrestlingwithlife · 1 year

Text

4th of July Fun

Given the location of the military base the Task Force resided in it was no surprise that the 4th of July wasn’t a big deal. In fact, most didn’t even know of it, but the American soldiers are hell bent on celebrating with as much fried food and fireworks as possible.

Task Force 141 x Male!Cowboy!Reader

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“Of course I’m paying for them.” Y/n rolled his eyes as if it was the most simple thing. He held the phone to his ear, listening to the man on the other side of the call whine that they didn’t want Cowboy to have to pay for everything.

“Joel it’s fine, it’s no big deal… Yes I know it’s a lot of money… Yes I can pay for it… Joel, buddy, you think someone who own hundreds of acres of land and countless heads livestock is poor… Exactly, now you and the guys pick the best fireworks and I’ll deal with the rest.”

Y/n sighed as he hung up the phone, but he couldn’t help but smile. It was endearing that they didn’t want him to have to do and pay for everything, but it was just easier.

Cowboy turned around, nearly jumping out of his skin at the looming figure of Ghost standing behind him. Y/n clutched over his heart. “Holy shit, Ghost we have got to get you a bell or something.”

Ghost rolled his eyes at the comment, but he quirked his brow at the American male. “What exactly do you need that many fireworks for?”

The h/c haired male perked up, eyes shining with excitement. “Oh! Me and the other American soldiers got clearance to celebrate the 4th of July!”

Ghost knew the 4th of July was a big deal in America, but he had never bothered to look into it. “How exactly do you celebrate the 4th of July?”

“Oh it’s great!” Y/n beamed, motioning Ghost to follow him as he walked. “There are lots of fireworks, food, and yard games.”

Ghost couldn’t help but allow his lips to curl into a smile as Cowboy rambled on, giddy with excitement. He turned his bright e/c eyes up to Ghost, smiling wide. “You and the others should come out when we do it! The more the merrier!”

Ghost hummed in thought, but he knew ultimately there was no way he could say no to Cowboy. “Alright.”

Y/n beamed at Ghost, giving him a quick hug before bounding off to finish his plans. Ghost smiled, eyes trained onto the other male as he left.

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜

Ghost’s eyes trailed around the hustle and bustle of the celebration. There were more American soldiers on the base then he’d originally thought, all of them were dressed rather patriotically with a few even having random red, white, or blue hand prints on their bodies.

The task force wandered about the place as they looked for their American teammate. They took the opportunity to soak in everything.

There were stands selling fried foods that they would have never even dreamed of. There were some soldiers who had tents set up as they grilled beneath them, chatting ideally as they did so.

There were games like corn hole, yard darts, and even Ladder toss. A larger group of soldiers were gathered around some sort of inflatable, the occasional loud cheers erupting from the group as well as a few chants.

Curiosity got the better of the task force and they wandered over, now able to see that the inflatable was a mechanical bull. The group’s jaws dropped when they saw the man riding the bull.

Cowboy’s legs were pressed tight to the bull, his hips moving effortlessly as the man controlling it worked to fling him off. The man sported a loose red and blue tank top, a few white hand prints littered down his chest.

Y/n held his cowboy hat in one hand as he used the other to grip onto the rope of the bull. His wide grin and occasional whoop made it clear he was having a blast. Price swallowed, shifting a bit as he watched the way the southern male’s body moved and grinded as he rode.

After a while longer Y/n was finally flung off the bull, his grin never once faltering. Once he stepped off the inflatable he was given a multitude of praise and pats on the back, but once he saw his task force he was quick to scurry over to them, leaving the poor attempts at flirting in the dust.

Soap smirked, shooting the soldiers Cowboy had left behind a victorious smirk.

“I’m so glad you guys decided to come out!” Y/n beamed, e/c eyes glistening like jewels in the bright sunlight.

“Oh, come on now. You know we wouldn’t miss it for anything.” Soap reassured, throwing an arm around the male in tugging him close. Now that he was much closer he took a moment to look at the hand prints on Y/n’s chest.

Given Y/n’s clean hands and the position of the prints it was clear they were given by someone else. Soap irked a bit with jealousy when he could see the beginning of two hand prints that rested exactly on the thick males pecs, but he wasn’t given time to dwell on it as Y/n dragged him off to enjoy the festivities, the others trailing behind.

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜

The five spent their time eating more fried foods than they had probably eaten in their entire lives. Y/n also introduced them to more American dishes and traditions, and Cowboy and Ghost absolutely demolished Soap and Gaz in corn hole.

It wasn’t much longer before the sun began to set and the sky grew dark, Y/n practically buzzed with excitement as he led the four to a good spot to watch the fire works.

“Gotta say, this is more fun than I’d thought it would be.” Gaz hummed as Price and Y/n set up the blanket for them all to sit on.

The h/n haired male beamed up at Gaz. “I’m glad you guys liked it! Maybe next year we can get some time off and I can have you over to my hometown to celebrate! They really know how to party.”

Before anyone could get out another word there was a loud whistling and a fiery streak across the sky followed by a big red explosion that lit up the entire area. The five of them immediately looked up as the fireworks began.

The group watched in wonder in awe of each firework, faces lighting up under the glow.

Gaz’s eyes trailed down, cutting over to look at Cowboy. Each new flash of light lit up the male’s beautiful face. His eyes shone like glass and his fluffy h/c locks were still tousled from the day.

Gaz looked down to where Y/n’s hand rested on the ground, keeping him propped up. The British male looked back up to the sky, but moved his hand to rest over Y/n’s own.

The American soldier didn’t even need to look down. He smiled, turning his hand over so he could hold Gaz’s own. Gaz’s heart almost leaped out of his chest when Y/n’s fingers laced with his

Perhaps he had a new favorite holiday.

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I had this queued up and when I came in and saw it didn’t post I realized I had set it for the wrong date so that’s nice 💀 Glad I checked

I hope you all enjoyed! Happy 4th to everyone and if you don’t celebrate that hope you have a lovely day!!

- Author~Chan out ✌️

#task force 141 #captain john price #cod gaz #cod x cowboy!reader #cod x male reader #cod x reader #cowboy!reader #simon riley #ghost cod #john soap mactavish #july 4th #4th of july

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a-dauntless-daffodil · 4 months

Note

Vaggie just slowly, kicking and screaming, turning into a carmine. Constantly wearing pointe shoes to the point she can't walk flat footed, hair pulled up in a dancer's bun, her clothes turning black and white, knowing weapons inside and out, ect.

Her just one day going, 'f@#$ I'm a carmine now'

Clara 'always was, sis, come on we have practice in ten minutes.'

For a full 1 minute I can see that happening. XD ONE. minute

Thing is tho, look at Clara and Odette, they're Carmilla's canon daughters and they're as FAR from being her clones as possible- in style as well as looks overall.

there's one lab coated mad scientist and a cool girl in thigh highs, high waisted shorts, and a turtleneck crop top.

the only shared family traits is white eyes red sclera, and hair being pulled UP in some way

The closest they come to dressing LIKE their mom is on Extermination day with their matching black body suits- and even THEN neither is wearing angelic steel dance slippers, just a wind about of criss cross ribbon around one leg.

Carmilla doesn't want her kids to be clones of her

(for me that's one really BIG sign of her caring about them as people, not just "her" kids. she's fine with them being their own selves)

so I could for sure she Vaggie and her bonding over a shared passion for dance...

or dancing FIGHTING anyway. uhh

PPPPFT imagine the meme -> CARMILLA CARMINE POSING WITH HER NEW DAUGHTER FOR A FAMILY PHOTO, PROUDLY SPORTING A /SPEAR/ THROUGH THE /THIGH/ WHILE VAGGIE DIES OF EMBARRASSMENT thats it that's their vibe to me XD

anyway, I don't think Vaggie would switch to ballet. Or go around on en pointe tippy toes. Not even for the extra inch or so of height it'd get her- im kidding im kidding-

Vaggie wears FLATS. Her tol af girlfriend is in heels- even her future dad in law has some heel on his boots- and she's in small, simple, flat shoes.

Canon will say if or not her "great dancer" thing gets confirmed in-show or what kinda dance style she does, but I'd guess it's something less... theatrical than ballet. More something that can be done anywhere any when with a comfy pair of normal shoes.

PLUS I think she ALRADY got the "Carmine family makeover"

look at her battle outfit

the dark base skin-tight suit (dark like an exorcist OR dark like-) her hair pulled back and put UP (in practical Carmine style) the white cross across her chest (Carmilla's theme of crisscrossing, things laced up)

and yeah, the cross could be a ref to her eyepatch- except the color is wrong. and that makes it look more like... well..

look at HOW the angel blood spiraled down her RIGHT leg by the end of the battle, like a ribbon

she already looks a lot like a Carmine to me <3

#hazbin hotel #vaggie #carmilla carmine hazbin hotel #clara carmine hazbin hotel #odette carmine hazbin hotel #vaggie gets adopted by carmilla au #i want it so baaaaaaaaaaaaaad uggghh

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jeonjungkookenthusiast1997 · 1 year

Text

Seduced by Shadows

Summary: Y/N summons her demon boyfriend Bang Chan for a movie date night but things quickly escalate as the atmosphere gets hot and heavy.

This is my own work not a reblog! Please do not repost or translate.

Content Warnings: demon sex, magic used in sex, oral (male receiving), face fucking, cursing, pet names, creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it up people!), established relationship, rough sex, breeding kink, marking, possessive language, shameless smut, fluffy smut, domestic fluff, porn with feelings, Minho and Changbin make a brief appearance, demon form during sex, cum swallowing, demon summoning, an attempt at comedy

Word Count: 4,914

Navigation

It's been a very long day at work and all Y/N wants to do now is relax and unwind, she's had enough of her bosses nagging her and customers walking all over her. She hurries home as fast as she can and quickly grabs some chalk to draw the all to familiar summoning circle placing a candle around each point.

Happy with her work, having done this many times before tonight, she dusts her hands of the chalky substance and runs upstairs to her bedroom to make herself look a little more presentable. She applies some light makeup, a simple red lip with sleek winged liner, and puts on a sleek form fitting black dress before kneeling at the base of the circle and whispering a small spell to summon the great demon prince Bang Chan into her home. Almost immediately the white chalk lines are replaced by vibrant blue magic and she can instantly feel the crackles and sparks that shoot off from it, a gust of wind sweeps around the room before settling back down leaving a beautiful young man firmly at the centre.

Once the dust settles the man walks out of the circle and smirks "hey there babygirl, what took you so long?" he rolls his strong shoulders letting the bones crack with each movement "almost thought you weren't going to summon me tonight" he pouts slightly as he offers a hand for her to take which she happily does as he pulls her to her feet ``sorry Channie got held up at work stupid boss wouldn't let me leave, came home as fast as I could" she smiles sheepishly at him.

He chuckles softly taking hold of her chin turning her face towards his own "it's alright babygirl no need to apologise" he wraps an arm around her waist pulling her close against him "you look so fucking beautiful tonight baby~" his other hand slides down her back caressing her skin gently "what's the plan?" Y/N sighs contentedly feeling the demons strong arms wrapping around her so tightly "thanks you're not looking so bad yourself" she giggles as she looks him up and down his red hair is styled up and out of his face, his dark eyes shine beautifully and the intricately decorated jacket he wears shows how regal he actually is "I figured we could have something to eat, maybe watch a movie cuddled under the blankets'' she gives his chest a tight squeeze "wasn't sure how long we'd have before your bodyguards show up but wanted to do something nice tonight… I don't know if you remember but it's been a year exactly since I first summoned you" she blushes slightly feeling a little silly under his brooding gaze.

He nods stroking her cheek lovingly finding her embarrassed blush so very cute "of course I remember that sounds perfect babygirl, we can order some takeout, I'll even let you choose what movie we watch" he winks playfully giving her ass a playful slap making her jump slightly and let out a squeak "after all it's been a year since the best night of my life" Chan pulls her in for a soft kiss before adding "as for the bodyguards, Minho and Changbin won't be showing up anytime soon" he murmurs into her ear "we've got all night baby~" he wiggles his eyebrows seductively, she giggles at the seductive look he's giving her "really how do you know? because I don't want them walking in on us like last ti-" he stops her sentence with a soft kiss and a low growl "that won't happen again, no one but me gets to look at my baby's body" he stares down at her possessively making a shiver of anticipation crawl up her spine.

Her gaze moves from his eyes to his soft plump lips thinking to herself how kissable they look, realising she's getting distracted she shakes her head of the thoughts starting to niggle in the back of her mind, she pulls away from his body slightly and grabs his hand leading him to her kitchen where she digs out some takeout menus to look through "where do they think you are Channie? surely they know your here with me again" she asks with a raised eyebrow as she hands him a couple menus to look through "I left a few tasks to keep them busy, told them they were of the utmost importance to keeping the realm safe" he chuckles as she gasps and pushes his chest "if they find out you're here they'll kick your ass" she shakes her head at his antics "I had to tell them something!" he laughs as he explains his thoughts "they can try and kick my ass but I am a prince of Hell, plus if they do find out you never know maybe they'll understand, they already know I have a soft spot for you babygirl" he winks and pulls her into a warm embrace "if by some miracle they DO show up I'm here to protect you, they'd never lay a hand on you" she sighs and rolls her eyes playfully at him.

She picks up a menu for a pizza place, basic but yummy and not too heavy, and nods towards the paper asking him to tell her what he wants "you're going to get in so much trouble for being here again aren't you?" she asks as she wraps her arms around his body burying her face in his clothes, enjoying the way his scent wraps around her making her feel safe and loved, he quickly points to a pizza he likes then curls his fingers under her jaw and presses his forehead to hers whispering "maybe but I don't care anymore even my father couldn't keep me from you, you're going to be my queen one day" his promise makes her chest tighten as he smiles enjoying their embrace before reluctantly pulling away to let her order the food. She takes the menu and orders two large pizzas with extra cheese and pepperoni. It doesn't take long for the food to get there so they gather up from blankets from Y/N's bed and huddle onto her sofa.

She turns on a movie she knows they've seen a few times before and cuddles into his arms as they eat. Y/N cuddles up to Bang Chan's side as he drapes a large fluffy blanket over the two of them, once settled he places a soft kiss on her forehead as they start watching the movie "you know, when I first summoned you..." at her words he turns to look at her face intrigued "I never could have imagined I'd be having domestic as fuck movie dates with the crown prince of Hell" she giggles as she teases him, he chuckles at her teasing "yeah yeah I know, I'm a big bad demon and we're watching fuckin' Bride Wars while cuddled on your small ass sofa" he jokes as he pulls her closer to him as he sighs contentedly "the shit you do for love" he smiles as he kisses her lips gently. The word 'love' makes her heart thud rapidly against her ribs "I love you too Channie" she returns his kiss eagerly.

He wraps his arms around her tightly as he pulls her closer to his chest "I want to spend every moment with you, to just lay in bed with you every night and wake up to you every morning" he kisses her hair softly "I don't want to let go ever, I can't wait for the day I get to take you back with me rather than having to leave you here alone" his words almost make tears of happiness well up against her lashes ``want to spend the rest of my life with you Chan" she moves her hands to her fingers wrap around his jaw as she pulls him down into a passionate kiss. He lets out a low laugh as he leans down to kiss her again "I want that more than anything babygirl and I promise as soon as I can guarantee your safety I'll take you to Hell with me" he says as he begins to nibble along her neck gently, his fingers moving to run through her hair as he pours all his feelings of love and affection into her skin.

She sighs softly as she feels his warm lips on her skin "I'll make sure you keep that promise" she replies as she moves the hair from her neck giving him more access to mark her body the action making him smile as he continues to kiss her neck and shoulders nibbling on the sensitive skin, he leaves small red and purple marks peppered over her neck and collarbone. As he moves one hand to cup her face and bring her head close to his so he could look into her eyes "you'll stay with me? Forever?" he asks as he looks deeply into her eyes. She nods her head "forever" she promises as she shimmies the blanket off her body as she climbs into his lap, she wraps her arms around his neck "let me show you how much I love you Channie" she kisses him, licking over his bottom lip with her tongue making him groan as he grabs onto her hips pulling her closer towards himself as their tongues dance together passionately.

His other arm wraps tightly around her waist holding her firmly against him as she bites his lip gently before breaking apart panting heavily Chan looks at her with love filling his dark eyes "my beautiful baby…" Y/N pulls away from his lips to kiss down his neck and jaw leaving her own little bites and marks, claiming him as her own knowing that his court would know who left the marks on their prince. Once satisfied she moves her hands down to unbuckle the belts tied around his waist, next she unbuttons his shirt and pulls the material off throwing it to the floor, taking a moment to run her hands down his exposed body.

The demon prince lets out a low sigh as he feels her touch sending chills down his spine as he leans back and closes his eyes enjoying the sensation of her hands caressing his bare chest. With each movement of her fingers he can feel the warmth radiating through his body enjoying the way her nails dig into his skin "so pretty" she smiles as she kisses down his body moving off his lap to sit on the floor between his feet. She runs her hands over his muscled thighs then settles her hands on his belt slowly undoing the leather material letting it also fall to the floor.

He looks down at her with an intensely lustful gaze as he bites his lip at the feeling of her teasing his body. Chan reaches down to run his fingers through the silky length of her hair as he feels his body reacting to the seductive touch of her fingertips Y/N moves her attention to Chan's hardening length, she applies slight pressure making Chan suck in a sharp breath as she plays with him "don't tease babygirl, it's been too long since I've felt your hands on my body" she bites her lip nodding almost obediently as she motions for him to lift his hips so she can tug his pants down. As he sees her motions he lifts his hips allowing her to pull his pants down with ease, as soon as they are down she licks her lips at the sight of his pretty pink cock a bead of precum dribbles over the head of his length.

Chan growls in warning as he sees her staring "what did I say about teasing me?" he groans "sorry baby just love your cock, so pink and pretty" she smiles as she leans forward to lick off the precum from his head, she gives teasing licks and kisses down the length of his dick. He groans low in his throat as she starts licking his cock, the feeling of her tongue running along his shaft sends shivers across his body as he arches his back slightly urging her to stop teasing him "mmmh.." he moans softly. His big hands flex and grip onto the sofa cushions "ah ah" she tuts as she uses her hands to push his hips down and keep them there "we're doing this my way" she smiles as he looks down at her not fully sold on relinquishing control however his the worry soon leaves him as his mind goes blank when she wraps her lips around the head of his cock giving the slit as few licks then moving back to soft sucks around his cock head.

As she sucks his cock head he lets out a shuddering moan her soft sucks aren't quite enough, he starts gripping the cushions tighter as he begs "mhmm.. baby, please" Y/N feels pride swell in her chest at his reactions to her touch but she wants to explore his body "wanna take my time Channie, we're always rushing because of your bodyguards" she flattens her tongue against the underside of his length using her tongue to lick at the veins running along his length, moving her right hand from his hip she spits into it before gripping his length giving it short pumps. His eyes roll back as she spits into her hand and starts applying sweet pressure to his dick, he can feel pleasure starting to spark in this body "you're killing me babygirl," he pants "please let me fuck you already" she simply shakes her head as she rolls her wrist tightening her hold on his length letting her hand rub up and down as her mouth focuses on the head, she gives him a few hard sucks before she starts to move him slowly down her throat licking anywhere she can as she does, keeping up the rhythm with her hand.

His eyes close as he feels her hands and mouth working together in perfect harmony, she's always been good at making him melt with her touch, but this is on another level. Her tongue feels so sinfully good as he clutches onto the pillows and moans her name, as she moves her head further down taking in more of his length she keeps a firm hold on his length making sure every inch of him is covered and pleasured as best she can with his impressive size. Her thighs start to rub together in a bid to create some much needed friction as wetness starts to collect between her legs, having him in her mouth and hearing his moans turning her on quickly. He feels every movement in her throat, every twitch of her tongue, every touch of her hand. He's almost at the point of no return, and she hasn't even taken all of him yet. He knows he's done for as she steadily takes his full length down her throat, the tightness and wetness of her tongue and throat making his length throb as a low moan leaves his lips and his hands shoot out to take a hold on her head.

Suddenly she pulls off his length completely taking a breath as her hand keeps pumping him, when she's gotten a lung full of air she takes him back down her throat to the hilt and takes a hold of his hands and pushes them into her hair making him take a hold of her "shit~ you sure babygirl?" he asks, she taps his thigh to give her consent as he starts to fuck her throat his hips thrusting up into her mouth starting slowly at first to let her adjust. She takes everything he's got to give, her throat working against him in a rhythm that drives him wild. Her hair slides through his fingers as he tightens his grip, his eyes closed tight as he fights to maintain control and not go too rough. He can feel his release building in his balls, the pressure building with every stroke of her throat, his grip tightening as the rock of his hips increases as he fucks his cock down her throat as carefully as he can.

She moans around his length as he takes control of her body, the vibrations flow straight to his cock making him choke out a loud groan "fuck...fuck... close" he moans out as his grip on her hair becomes almost bruising, she uses her tongue to lick against his cock as he moves faster down her tightening throat. He feels his orgasm building, and with a grunt he grips her hair even tighter, his thrusts becoming more frantic, harder, his breathing quickening. Then it hits him, with a loud moan of her name he holds her head firm against his body as he cums hard down her throat as his grip on her head loosens she slowly pulls away from his cock making sure to clean him clean as she moves away, looking into his eyes she licks her lips and any precum left on her fingers "you good baby?" she asks with a giggle as his chest heaves heavily.

His breath coming in ragged gasps panting for air he nods, letting his hands run over his face before looking back down at her and nodding slightly, "yeah I'm fine..." he says softly, "I think you just sucked my dark soul out through my dick" he chuckles as his breathing evens out. She giggles at his dramatic comment "glad you enjoyed it baby" she crawls back onto his lap as she nuzzles his neck with her nose, Chan basks in her loving attention for a moment before he grins at her mischievously. His dark eyes glow blue as his magic crackles into existence, he clicks his fingers and teleports them to her bed where he throws her down and crawls over her body with a predatory gaze.

He smiles widely when they arrive at her room feeling himself getting lost in her beautiful eyes, he leans forward and presses gentle kisses along her jawline before trailing them lower towards her collarbone, licking lightly "I've missed this, missed feeling you" he clicks his fingers again to leave her bare in front of him, he nudges his nose along her neck as he growls possessively "you smell so fucking good babygirl... smell like me" a shiver runs down her spine at his words she lets out a small whimper as she spreads her legs for him "need you Channie" she reaches her hands out to grasp at his body.

His cock hardens at her words, he nips at her neck softly and smirks a little "need you too little one, need to be inside you... I need to hear your sweet voice calling my name as you cum around my cock..."he reaches his hand down and groans as he feels her slick running down her thighs "so wet... I'll barely have to prep you" he smirks as he pushes two of his long fingers into her wet pussy making her moan out. His words have her walls clenching down on his thick fingers as they thrust up hitting the deepest parts of her body "don't need prepped Channie, I can take you please...please need you in me now" she cries out as her hands come to grip his muscled arms.

He pulls back sucking her essence off his fingers and growls hearing her beg before reaching under her knees and lifting them over his shoulders. He groans deeply as he enters her, stretching her wide, slowly pushing his cock into her, filling her so deliciously as her moans steadily increase in volume before he begins to pound into her with force, his lips crashing against hers with a savage passion that matches his movements. Her back arches off the bed as he sets a rough pace pounding her back into the bed as her eyes screw up from the immense pleasure "want you to call me by my birth name babygirl" he grunts as he re angles his hips to make sure his cock head is hitting her g-spot "want you to call me Chris" a loud moan leaves both of their lips as she clenches down on his length, she nods her head immediately moaning out his name "C-Chris~ fuck baby... you're cock is filling me so deeply" she chases his lips as he trusts into her.

He grips her asscheeks tight pulling closer as he continues to pound into her hard, his teeth bared in a feral grin as he speaks "always wanted to hear you moan my given name...had to wait until I knew you'd be my queen" he grunts each time his cockhead rubs against her g-spot. He growls out her name as he slams into her faster and harder, his breath coming in short bursts, his face twisted in pure lust as her pussy sucks him in greedily. Her bed starts to shake with every thrust but neither of them could care what her neighbours can hear, she whimpers and clenches down on him as he calls her his words "you like that babygirl? when I call you my queen?" he grins as she nods her head, her grip on his body tightening as he rocks her body back and forth.

He groans loudly as he feels her tighten around him, her walls squeezing tightly around his shaft as he pounds into her relentlessly, his hands gripping onto her thighs for support as he leans forward kissing and licking her neck "well I love calling you my queen because that's what you will be when we get married" he whispers between kisses, his voice hoarse from all the exertion as he lays his heart bare for her. Her cries in pleasure are making her throat sore but she can hardly recognise the pain through the immense pleasure shooting through her limbs "'m gonna fuck my babies into you, gonna breed you so every demon out there knows your mine" his grip on her thighs tightens, the skin turning red from how hard he's gripping her "need your cum Chris" Y/N cries out.

The sound of her cry sends shivers up his spine, his hand reaching down to stroke her clit in gentle circles "I'm going to fill you up babygirl, mark you as mine" he whispers before leaning down to kiss her lips passionately, his tongue sliding into her mouth eagerly "want you to cum around my cock~" he grunts as his fingers increase their speed on her throbbing clit. Y/N reaches her hands up to rest in his hair tugging roughly as he thrusts into her, she whines loudly as the pleasure of his fingers on her clit and his cock spearing into her g-spot have her eyes rolling back as she babbles cock drunk "g-gonna- g- gonna cum!~ cumming~" she cries as she bucks her hips up, thighs shaking wildly.

He grunts as she tugs on his hair and he feels her buck against him, her body trembling beneath his touch as she cums hard around his thick member, coating it in her slick "ohh fuck...you're such a good girl for me..." he moans softly, as his thrusts become erratic a familiar blue crackle fills the room as his regal red horns sprout from his head making her gasp, knowing his horns are sensitive she gives them a rough tug making his hips stutter into her walls.

He growls deeply in pleasure at her rough touch on his horns thrusting into her harder as he feels them being played with, making his eyes roll back as he loses himself in the moment "you're so fucking sexy playing with my horns like that...Y-Y/N... I-I'm…" she clenches her walls down hard as he gives her one last rough thrust before he's spilling his hot cum into her pussy, rocking his hips forward as he slowly comes down from the intense high she's milking from him.

He releases a ragged groan of pleasure as he spills himself into her feeling her tight walls clench down on his cock making him shudder with pleasure, leaning forward as he kisses down her neck groaning as he feels her soft lips against his neck "fuck...you're so-wet and warm around me…" they stay still wrapped in each other's arms for a moment as their breathing becomes less erratic Y/N winds her hands through his hair, brushing her fingers over his golden tipped horns with a small smile on her face.

A smile plays on his lips as he feels her hands in his hair and ghosting over his horns reaching up he wraps his fingers around her waist, tugging her closer to his chest as he nuzzles his nose against her own "I love you" a soft giggles escapes her lips at his feather light touches "I love you too Chris" the demon on top of her blushes slightly but smiles moving his lips to place kisses along her wrists, once his length has started to soften he pulls out of her slowly moving his body away to get a damp cloth to clean them up with.

Chan quickly and carefully cleans her up first then gives himself a quick wipe down before throwing the cloth into a nearby bin, he rejoins her in bed crawling over her body as he pulls her close his face inches from hers as he places light kisses over her cheeks then down to her lips. She returns his soft kisses sighing contently, he rubs his nose against her neck then he looks into her eyes "if you ever wait that long before you summon me again I'll hunt you down and make your life insufferable" he laughs as he gently pokes her side "didn't wanna disturb you in case you were busy with your 'princely duties' but couldn't pass up the opportunity to see you tonight" he hums at her answer "summon me anytime you want or need me babygirl, I'm all yours" he smiles as she gives him a tight squeeze.

A low hum rumbles in his throat as he holds onto her tighter, unable to resist the urge to claim every inch of her body. His lips are hot and demanding as they take hers desperately, their tongues intertwining together without restraint. Chan softly pushes Y/N into her bed and he's about to crawl back on top of her when the pair hear two very familiar voices pounding on her bedroom door "you in there Chan?" Changbin asks, sounding a bit sheepish, as a slap fills the space "of course he is, can't you smell them" Minho complains and she can already imagine the look of disgust on his face. Chan simply growls low in this throat "someone better be fucking dying" clearly not sensing the danger they're in at interrupting Chan the duo burst into the room "no one's dying yet… woah" Minho blinks as he points to Chan's clearly visible horns grumbling as he dodges a pillow thrown at his head by Chan.

The frustrated demon prince pulls Y/N behind his back and makes sure her body is covered completely before giving his friends his attention "demons are whispering about how long you've been gone man" Changbin speaks before hesitantly adding "the king and queen, y'know your parents, are demanding you return home" he flinches slightly expecting another pillow to come flying at them.

The sigh that leaves Bang Chan is one of defeat and annoyance "fine fine I'll get dressed and come back home" he turns to his pretty human with a frown " 'm sorry babygirl, I'll make it up to you, yeah?" he places a chaste kiss against her lips, he gives her one last longing look before he stands making the men quickly cover their eyes "you could've waited till we left the room ew" Minho tuts as Changbin laughs silently "you two" Chan points between them "wanted me to hurry and I was clearly very busy before you teleported here" an amused laugh leaves his friends as they both nod muttering a joint "clearly" while looking at each other with smirks on their faces which only works to increase the frown on Chan's gorgeous face.

Using his magic he quickly redresses himself and his lover allowing Y/N to stand and say goodbye, she gives him a long passionate kiss before muttering a soft "I love you" against his lips. With a longing sigh he responds "I love you too babygirl" he gives her one last tight squeeze before standing with his life long friends and bodyguards "a pleasure as always" Minho smiles giving her a small bow "same time next week" Changbin jokes earning a slap to the back of his head from Chan and a laugh from Minho and Y/N "bye boys, look after him will you?" she speaks sweetly, receiving an earnest nod from the two slightly smaller demons as she blows Chan a kiss and watches with a sigh as they disappear in a haze of smoke "see you next week" she smiles to herself as she flops onto her bed curling into her bed sheets surrounded by the scent of her royal lover.

Banner made by: @cafekitsune 💙

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doppel-doodles · 6 months

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Since everyone is making their own little version of the characters I thought I would join the fun for my Fallen crown Au! These were supposed to be quick little sketches just to get some ideas down but they still took me the whole day:'D will probably change as I draw them but I wanted at least something down on for the time being and I do like how most turned out!

Single versions plus some info and ramblings about each under cut for those interested:

My lamb was mainly based on both, yes the actual player character but also the vibes of my own plathrough which were very "oh god who let this child be in charge?-" while I'll still mostly just call them Lamb I figured they should still have a proper name so I went with my friends @/tamaruaart suggestion as it suits them rather nicely! And most note worthy detail is honestly just the fact that they carry something from each bishops realm on their person now, I like to think they treat those items like little trophies:>

Narinder is probably my weakest I feel like, he definitely needs something to give him some extra "ompf!". I basically made his undertaker fit a sorta reverse or at least loosely inspired by his white robes in game. I imagine he is very boney or a straight up skeleton underneath so he covers it all up beneath heavy fabrics, but because I lack subtly I still covered him in bones regardless-

And yea I kept the veil cause 1. It's a look and 2. It coviently covers up his now sewn shut third eye.

There wasn't much reason behind making him an undertaker, I simply thought it suited him, when your the former god of death you aren't exactly squeamish around corpses. Lastly the dark blues are there to contrast the other followers warm tones, as they kinda seen him as an outcast which is just fine for narinder he isnt exactly thrilled to be here.

I'll put Leshy and Heket together as they were sorta designed as a set.Since they are both youngest among the bishops I sorta latched onto the headcanon that they get along pretty well and just stick together after getting into the cult so they just share a lot of their duties. So I gave them some matching elements like the puffy shorts but also stuff that contrasts like Leshy having looser clothing and Hekets being more tight. Or Heket getting working gloves with a little belt to hold tools plus a hat for the sun, meanwhile Leshy will happily dig through the dirt bare clawed in the sun for hours-

I debated on giving Heket an apron but honestly I think she would only wear one while cooking or tending the farm plots there is no reason for her to wear it casually, the gloves though stay for I reason I utterly love because its PETTY-

Literally the only reason she keeps them on almost constantly is because when the lamb asks she can be like "ew, I'm not touching you with my bare hands." Yes, my humour is broken moving on-

I also gave Leshy a cane just so he actually has something to feel around with when he is areas he isn't too familiar with so he isn't running into crap- on that note, Heket can speak a bit but not exactly loud or for a very long time without seriously hurting her throat, once I properly learn it I definitely wanna draw her using sign language.

Lastly bodies, Leshy was based off a previous drawing I made of him in bishop form, I simply made it less monsterous but he is in charge of chaos so he had to remain a creature- Heket is more straight forward, she is a frog and she is large and in charge.

There was one reason why I made Shamura a tailor and that was the mental image of them sewing the bishops clothes when they were younger and dressing them up all cute.

I went for more pink colors mainly because I thought it better suited the purple and would make their red eyes pop! Honestly I really love their colors they remind me of a Berry! I've drawn shamura before but honestly the only things that stuck were the colors,face and then also the hand markings I did tweak their eyes a bit I wanted something more stern feeling.

For clothing I kept everything nice and loose, while they are the tailor I also love the idea that in their spare time they either teach the youths in the cult or are like the champion of the fighting pit because war is also their domain and they can be- so I wanted them dressed pretty comfy to deal with whatever may come! But still keep everything pretty mature and mildly fancy maybe in the future I'll do some fancy gold and silver embroidery to the pants because of that.

As for body type I wanted them to be pretty thin but unlike Narinder who is twink material under his cloak they have a bit more bulk on top to show that they can choose violence if they so wish-

I adore me some pathetic but still serving men, honestly except for the cross on his belt I completely ignored the fact I made him a medic- If he needs to treat something gross he can throw something over to protect his clothes but just like Heket there is no reason for him to wear that while not working.

Otherwise my main goal was simply to make Kalamar look pretty and fancy. I debated on either short or long bottoms until I realized I'd have to figure out his tentacle situation, then realized I don't hate myself THAT MUCH so bro got put into a floor length gown, work smarter not harder kids.

If I have an excuse to give a character a shawl I will take it so fast.

His body type I mainly wanted to flesh out the roster so I tried making him very squishy and huggable looking, I debated on thinner so he looked more dangly and stretchy but that made him kinda to similar to Narinders build for my liking.

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all-alone-he-turns-to-stone · 1 year

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Sway Me Now

Billy Butcher Masterlist

Summary: For one mission, they have to work together. But after last time, can Butcher really trust her? As tension grows, they inevitably end up on the dance floor and have to dance to keep their cover. And right there, all the anger turns into something else. Can they really finish up the mission now? Pairing: Billy Butcher x F!Reader Rating: 18+ Warning: implied smut but nothing explicit, The Boys level of violence, ennemy to lovers, tension, sexual tension, anger, dancing, fighting Word Count: 3946 A/n: This fic was requested by @mightyhemsworthy! So sorry it took so long!

Don’t forget to leave a feedback!

It wasn't his idea. Truth was, he was completely and irrevocably against it. But Hughie had the annoying capacity to convince everyone, including him. As soon as he used his secret weapon, his puppy eyes, everyone flinched.

"It's a shitty idea," he repeated for the hundredth time. Running his hand slowly through his beard, Butcher looked in the mirror to observe himself from all angles. He hadn't worn anything this fancy in so long.

The costume was very beautiful, there was no doubt about it. The black fabric was soft to the touch, a little reflective, showing its expensive price. The white button up shirt was a little tight so Butcher didn't hesitate to untie his bow tie to loosen a button.

"Who would have thought you could rock a suit."

Butcher closed his eyes and let out a long, telling sigh. That voice, he could never forget it.

"Who the fuck let you in, luv?"

His eyes still closed, Butcher turned to face the woman who haunted his nights… Both in a good and in a bad way.

"The little guy with the blue eyes. He's the one that called me and begged me to come here for your shitty plan."

Butcher's lips twitched in an uncomfortable spasm. Why did it have to be her, out of all the possible choices?

"Not. My. Plan," Butcher finally opened his eyes to place them on the woman in front of him. And for once, he was glad he could keep an unfazed face in any situation, because the view in front of him...

Y/n was leaning against the door frame. Her silhouette illuminated by the light behind her made her look like an angel… but he knew the demon hidden behind her beauty. She wore a red dress so tight, the fabric looked and probably felt like a second skin. The length came below her knees, but there was a slit on the side that went up to her hip, exposing her leg. Butcher couldn't help but stare at that bare part, exposed flesh that made him salivate. After long seconds of impossible scenarios passing through his mind, he managed to raise his eyes. The top of the dress was low cut just enough to show off her assets but also hid some to leave room for the imagination.

To finish up her look, her hair was curled and tied in a bun, small strands falling on either side of her face.

So lost in the contemplation of the woman in front of him, Butcher didn't immediately notice that she was doing the same to him. Her eyes roamed up and down her body, burning and interested in the sight.

He wasn't used to being looked at like that. Not in a long time, at least. Feeling himself losing control over her expressions, Butcher cleared her throat to bring the focus back to what was important and what she was there for. The mission.

Y/n was biting her lip in interest when he spoke.

"Did Hughie tell you his plan?"

“Alright. So the target’s name is Edmundo Rodriguez. I texted you a picture.”

Sitting at the bar, Butcher was sipping a nice glass of strong whiskey when M.M's voice rang loudly in his ear. By reflex, he tried to remove the piece from his ear, but a hand was faster and stopped him.

“We got the picture,” the person next to him muttered discreetly against her wrist, her silver bracelet hiding the microphone allowing her to communicate with the base of operations. The truck was parked further on the road outside the manor, M.M and Hughie ready to guide them if necessary. Y/n slid the phone on the counter by his drink so Butcher glanced at it quickly.

“That motherfucker looks like all the other motherfucking in here, how the hell are ye gunna find him, eh?”

“I don’t care how you do!” M.M's voice once again sounded loudly in his ear. Butcher grimaced. He definitely hated this plan. Hated the mission. “Just do it. Target should be in the VIP section.”

“Sure thing, we just need to get in there now, do we?”

Turning his head to the left and then the right, Butcher mentally noted everything around him again. The room was full of people, cocktails in hand, dancing, talking and laughing out loud. A real bunch of money cows, good at milking the poor to fill their pockets. And they called that event a charity gala? It stank of scam.

The phone disappeared from the counter as Y/n grabbed it. Butcher followed the gesture and watched her put it back in her bag. Again, his breath got caught in his throat at the beauty of the woman next to him, and his frustration grew.

“Are you gonna stop being a baby for one night?” She sighed, turning to him completely. After crossing one leg above the other, she leaned against her hand, her elbow against the counter. She narrowed her eyes at him, clearly judging him with her gaze.

“Only when you’ll stop being a greedy bitch,” Butcher replied, mimicking her posture to face her as well. He grabbed his glass and put it to his lips, but decided not to drink from it at the last second. “Why are you even here eh? We don't need ya, like we didn't need ya last time either.”

"Oh, if that's how you say thank you, then fuck you!" Straightening slightly, Y/n swiveled towards the bar to order a drink, but Butcher interrupted her.

“I won’t say thank you, hun, not after what you did last time.”

“You’re still mad about that!”

This time, the two were face to face, standing on their feet, their faces so close they could feel each other’s body heat.

“I’ll always be mad that you betrayed us and joined the fucking enemy.”

The only reason she could answer him at the same height was the 4 inch heels that adorned her feet. “You know why I did that!” Noticing she was raising her voice, Y/n looked around. Her gaze wandered behind Butcher for a moment, then she grabbed his arm to pull him even closer to her. “Now's not the fucking time. I'm there, like it or not,” she whispered, her face so close he could admire every detail of her beautiful eyes. “The guards are looking at us, we're making a scene and getting too much attention so you’re gonna shut up and follow my lead.”

Butcher had no time to protest or answer, he was being dragged on the dance floor. Once they were in the middle, Y/n looked to the left where the guards were and Butcher followed her gaze discreetly. Indeed, three men were staring intently at them. Cursing himself for accepting the mission, and more importantly, agreeing to go with her, Butcher didn’t notice the song had changed. He understood only when he felt his hands switch places to end up against a fabric that was soft to the touch. Turning his head in front of him, his eyes widened as he noticed he was now holding her waist.

“Follow my lead,” Y/n hissed through her teeth. Already, her hips were moving side to side and she was raising her arms to wrap them around Butcher's neck. Caressing the back of his head, she moved closer to him enough to press her chest against his torso. Still in shock of having her so close, Butcher didn't move. A strong pain in the foot brought him back to him with a choked moan of pain. "Sway me now!"

She was crushing his foot with her heel? Perfect! He was awake now.

Suavemente, bésame

Que quiero sentir tus labios

Besándome otra vez

Prior to The Boys, Butcher had been to many events that required dancing. To not embarrass and shame Becca, he had learned and practiced relentlessly. It had been a while now since his last dance, his body responding to the movements by remaining rather stiff, but it was enough. And the confused but satisfied expression of the woman in his arms confirmed he wasn’t too bad at it.

Cuando tú me besas

Me siento en el aire

Por eso cuando te veo

Comienzo a besarte

One foot in front of him, Y/n moved hers back and they repeated the movement a couple of times to the beat of the song, swaying their hips. Then, Butcher grabbed Y/n's hand, kissed it quickly before spinning her on herself several times. After a few turns, he grabbed her against him and helped her down to the ground by holding her hands. Y/n slid, one leg in front and the other behind as she did the splits. Applause sounded around them, but neither paid attention to their spectators. Once on the ground, Y/n stuck her legs together and Butcher spun her around to build momentum and lift her up. With a strong, precise movement, she seemed to fly through the air for a moment, her legs splitting again but in the air this time.

Y si te despegas

Yo me despierto

De ese rico sueño

Que me dan tus besos

Suavemente

Grabbing her by the waist, Butcher gently helped her land on her feet. Then, they pulled back, Y/n moving her hips and caressing her body as she kept her gaze on her partner. Pointing at him, she motioned for him to come closer, which Butcher did, a smile on the corner of his lips. Swaying, he advanced towards the young woman so that she ended up in his arms again. His hands rested on her waist again, but the heat had already risen too much, and his fingers wandered lower on her body, inviting her to sway her hips even more.

It was hot. Their bodies touched more often than they stayed apart. The two were sweating as the song struggled to finish. The 4 minutes of the song felt like an eternity, but soon, that eternity was over. The song ended as Butcher rocked Y/n backward against his arm. Her hair, surprisingly still in her bun even after the dance, tickled his arm. Her back was arched perfectly and he was holding one of her legs with his other hand.

The sound of their rapid breathing filled the room full of people watching them, but it felt like there were only two left in the world. Nothing existed anymore, nothing could reach them in the bubble they were in. The tension was palpable, the dancing had warmed them both up in a way they hadn't expected. Of course, Butcher knew how incredibly beautiful Y/n was. And sexy. Fuck, she was so hot. But that moment they had lived... It felt more than that.

Butcher stared at Y/n's lips with one longing...

His face moved closer and closer to hers, and she didn't do anything to stop him. He could feel her breath on his lips, feel the fruity scent of her lip gloss tickle his nose, they were so close… when a round of applause startled him.

Butcher was getting his dance partner back on her feet when a voice rang in his ear.

“Nice way to get attention, well done.” He had no idea how they saw the dance back in the truck, but they knew and it made Butcher lose focus once more.

Y/n was faster than him and leaned over to salute and thank the crowd. Butcher did the same, and then the band resumed the songs and people started talking as if nothing had happened.

Time seemed to slow down as the dance looped through his head. People talked to him, but he didn’t listen to any of them. He could almost taste them, her lips, feel their warmth on his… And he wanted to. So bad. God, he was screwed. He only hoped she didn’t notice how strong her hold was on him and how bad he wanted her. That would be fucking embarrassing.

"Y/n-" Butcher turned his head towards her, but she wasn't near him anymore. He blinked a few times and looked around, panic slowly rising in him. She was there and then, gone. Raising his watch to his mouth, Butcher let his fear pour out.

“M.M! I lost Y/n!”

“Relax,” the voice answered. “You spaced out for a while Butcher. She’s doing her job. Look towards the bar.”

A long sigh of relief escaped Butcher's lungs when he found the red dress among the people sitting at the bar. He was walking towards her when he finally noticed that she was not alone. Sitting next to her, a man was talking to her. Although he was far away and the man had his back turned to him, Butcher could still notice the smirk stamped on his face as he looked at her, his big stubby hand going up on Y/n's thigh. His dirty fingers slid through the slit of the dress to caress her leg… And that was his limit.

Butcher saw red. Not waiting a moment, he rushed to the bar, pushing the other guests around without worrying about attracting attention. He was almost there when a waiter stepped directly into his path.

“Un entrée vous ferait-il plaisir, monsieur?”

Butcher recognized his voice before realizing that the server was speaking French. “Frenchie, get out my way now.”

“Saw your little dance there, impressionnant,” Frenchie, disguised as a waiter, nodded. Of course, they had to send him inside in case something turned bad. That was how M.M knew about the dance, Frenchie had a great time describing what he was seeing. “But now’s not the time to screw your cover. Take a little pain crouté and let her work.”

“I don’t care about your food!” Drowning in his anger, Butcher's hand went off on its own and the plate filled with probably very expensive appetizers flew through the air to end on the floor in a deafening din. Of course, this caught everyone's attention, including the guards, the man at the bar, and Y/n. “Leave me alone Frenchie,” Butcher hissed through his teeth. Frenchie lowered his head, muttered something in French and left. Butcher was about to continue on his way to the bar when a hand landed on his chest to stop him.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!” Y/n whispered and glanced behind her where she had left the man. She quickly waved at him to let him know it would take her a moment and then turned to Butcher. “Why are you making a fucking scene!”

“Why are you flirting with the first guy you see, eh?!” Butcher clenched his fists, casting a hateful gaze toward the bar and the man.

"Are you fuckin-" Not finishing her sentence, Y/n grabbed Butcher by the wrist and led him out of the room. Once they were in an empty hallway, she stopped and turned to him. Certain she would only try to find more excuses for her actions, Butcher was surprised to see that look on her face.

Her beautiful eyes were sad, filled with overflowing tears. Her eyebrows were furrowed, clearly disappointed in his behavior. She let go of his wrist and Butcher felt the chill creep up his spine as she pulled the phone out of her bag to show him the photo.

“Why are you showing me the target again!” He exclaimed, raising his voice louder than he liked.

“Because I was with him at the bar! Are you blind?!”

“I knew it, you’re gunna go with the enemy again!” Clapping his hands over his head, Butcher was about to leave the mansion, fuck the mission, when a hand forced him to stay put.

“How can you think I would- I was seducing him to get the fucking key! Yanno, for the safe that contains the fucking documents we need to destroy Vought!”

Butcher lowered his hands. It was like his body weighed a ton and gravity was pulling him down. He hadn't thought of that. However, that didn't calm the anger he had been feeling ever since he saw her again.

“How do you want me not to think that after last time!” No matter how hard he tried to calm down, the anger and that negative feeling ate up inside him like an ever-growing black cloud.

Pain passed over Y/n's face. Her eyes filled with water again. No tears rolled down her cheeks though.

“I had no choice…”

Her voice had become so quiet, he had difficulty understanding her. "What?"

“Last time. Monaco. I had no choice. They had my dad, and if I didn’t give them the documents…” Lowering her head, a lock of her bun finally fell over her eyes. “I didn’t want to… But I had to save my dad.” When she lifted her head, a single tear spilled out of her eye and started rolling down her cheek, but she wiped it away before it could sink too low.

“Why did you never tell me?” Butcher's voice was softer now. Although the betrayal was still fresh, he could understand. He would have done the same for Becca. He would betray his own team for the one he loved, no hesitation.

“Cause I failed that too,” she shrugged and smiled sadly. Her mouth opened to add something but her gaze shifted to the side and her eyes widened. "Oh shit."

“So that’s where you were, Cariño…” Butcher closed his eyes, a silent “fuck” mimed on his lips. Turning slowly, he got face to face with the man from the bar, the target, Edmundo Rodriguez. And he wasn’t alone. Three guards accompanied him, all armed with weapons. Edmundo shook his head and sighed. “What a shame it has to end before I can own you.” Butcher could feel a shiver of disgust and hatred wash over him at those words. “Oh, you wanted this, perhaps?” Raising a hand, Edmundo passed it through his sweater to pull out a chain and at the end of the chain, a key. The one they needed. “You thought me stupid. Tried to rob me. But who’s dumb now eh? Corpses don’t do well in stealing. Kill them.”

“Oh fuckin finally some action I’m good at.” Butcher smiled darkly. As the guards closed in on them, Butcher pulled off his far too expensive jacket and grabbed the gun hidden behind his back to point it at the nearest guard. However, he was already in front of him and with a quick swing, disarmed Butcher. His weapon fell to the ground and slid away much to the dismay of the man who took a punch in the face. His whole body twisted from the force of the hit and his mouth filled with blood. "Oh. You shouldn’t have done that.” Turning his head towards the guard, Butcher offered a bloody smile that made him take a few steps back. The guard had fear shining in his eyes… Even if he was the one with the gun. "Oh, don't be scared," Butcher was still smiling.

It happened so quickly, the guard didn't stand a chance. Butcher grabbed him by the sweater with one hand, the other grabbed the wrist that held the gun, and in a strong and precise movement, headbutted him right in the nose.

A crack was heard, followed by a scream.

Clearly stunned by the hit, the guard staggered and he put a hand to his face. Butcher took the opportunity to hit his knee with his feet, a strong and precise kick that bent his leg at an angle that shouldn't be possible. More cracks and yells of pain were heard. The guard fell to the floor screaming, his gun falling from his hand, and Butcher didn't hesitate to press his foot against his throat and pressed. Purple slowly crept into the guard’s face as he squirmed under the boot, trying to get free and get oxygen. But Butcher didn’t let go.

A gunshot sounded so close to his ear that Butcher had the instinct to duck, but the bullet missed its target. Looking behind him, he could see that the fight wasn’t over. One of the guards was pointing his gun at him, and if he missed the first shot, he wouldn’t make the same mistake again. Butcher was ready to drop to the ground, praying the bullets would miss him, but it wasn't necessary. Because one moment the guard was standing with a gun pointed at Butcher, and the next he was falling on the floor with a knife stuck in his throat. A few feet away from him stood Y/n, the covered side of her leg raised to show a belt filled with small knives strapped to her thigh.

"That's hot," Butcher couldn't help but say as Y/n picked up another knife and threw it at the last guard. Since the guard was busy dealing with knives being thrown at him, Butcher could pick up the gun the guard dropped, but it was unnecessary. Because one second later, Y/n skilfully jumped on the guard to stab him in the throat until he fell to the ground, motionless and choking in his own blood.

“Where’s Edmundo?” She asked, straightening her dress as if nothing had happened. She was barely disheveled, no cuts or wounds and above all, no drop of blood was on her person.

“I don’t care.”

Leaving the gun on the floor since he didn’t need it anymore, Butcher took the few steps that separated him from Y/n to immediately place his hands on her waist and pressed his lips to hers. It took her breath away, both with the force and the surprise of the intense kiss. She didn’t wait a second to respond, wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer. A low moan echoed in his ears as he slammed her against the wall, their lips parting just long enough for her to jump up and wrap her legs around his hips. "You're so fuckin hot," Butcher sighed and without waiting, brought his lips to hers again. One of his hands was used to support her while the other did not hesitate to slide under the slit of the dress to caress and grip her thigh.

The kiss was wild and filled with a longing and frustration that the two constantly felt. So needless to say, it only took a few moments for Butcher to undo his pants just enough to have access to what he needed.

Meanwhile, a French waiter who didn’t really have his place in this kind of event had intercepted a panicked person who was running towards the guardhouse. With a quick kick and a precise punch, he knocked him down, dragged him to a quiet place, bound and gagged him and finally, stole his key. Proud of himself for getting the key, he started searching for the two people under cover to tell them the good news. The mission was over, they had to leave before someone realized what happened.

After a while of searching, Frenchie finally found them…

Right in the middle of the hallway, caught up in an activity he wished he had never seen.

“Ah! Non, non non non! Not today! I’ll wait in the car!” Frenchie started to walk away, both hands raised in despair. But as the moans reached his ears, he cringed and shouted without turning back: “No, better than that, when you are done, just call a taxi! Au revoir!”

Forever taglist: @nitnat6245 @eevvvaa @wickedinspirations @fictional-affairs @awkward-and-indecisive @peachyaliien @katbratsupernaturalwhore

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