#well I’ll take that as my cue to go to bed

[fertilizing-daffodils]

*technically it’s almost three but whatevs. Honestly, I don’t feel out of control of my life for once. I’m just manic and enjoying my new stand mixer and dnd cookbook. :P

[hushedlover]

Can i request a Mike Schmidt who actually got good sleep but his baby sitter/new found crush looks like she was hit by a train and he’s like “just sleep here” and his own thoughts come in with “take my bed.” (Which she tries to deny)

The sound of the front door closing and keys landing in the dish on the foyer table woke you up. You peeked your head over the back of the couch to look at Mike. He’s peeling the security vest off but for the first time ever he looks like he’s slept a full night.

“Hey. Abby still sleeping?” He calls over his shoulder.

“Yeah. Too early for her to be up,” you call back. Something in your voice sets off alarms for Mike. He glances back at you and sees you staring off into space, unfocused eyes blankly settled on the back of the couch. There are deep bags under your eyes and your hair is a hot mess, looking like you’d been tugging at it all night.

“You okay?” He calls tentatively. That gains your attention. Your eyes snap up and focus on his face. Immediately you send him an unconvincing smile as you stand from the couch. You begin gathering your things, keys and bag, while heading for your shoes.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m just- just tired. You seem well rested though,” the smile you shoot him this time is genuine, a softer version of your usual one. “I’m glad. You need the sleep.”

You drop your keys as you’re getting your shoes on, cursing and bending to grab them. Some part of the action through you off balance, and the next thing you know your butt is firmly planted on the hard wood floor. A dull pulsing pain emanates from the point of contact with the surface and you drown, looking down at the floor accusingly.

“Okay, come here,” Mike grunts as he slides his hands under your armpits. With a quiet groan from both of you, he hoists you to your feet. You stumble and regain your balance before looking up at Mike.

“Thanks,” you mutter as heat floods your cheeks.

“No problem,” he says, his brows furrowed slightly. You go to reach for your keys that are seated in his hand, but Mike pulls them back. “Listen, you’re exhausted. I don’t really want you driving home right now. Why don’t you sleep here?”

More heat rises in your face and you shift on your feet nervously. His face is close, almost too close to yours, his brown eyes demanding your focus and attention. His light scruff is distracting, so are his lips, and you almost get lost in them before remembering to respond.

“Oh no, Mike. I’m fine, really. I wouldn’t want to intrude, plus I’m sure Abby will want to watch TV and I don’t want to take over your couch,” You stutter and trip over your words as you try to rush them out.

“What do you-? Oh! No, no I meant like,” you swear you can see red tint his cheeks as his eyes dart away from yours for a second. “I meant sleep in my bed.”

Both of you go silent and stare at each other with wide eyes for a second. You distantly wonder if he can hear your heart pounding in your chest. Or maybe see your pulse jumping in your neck. Suddenly, Mike snaps out of the stupor.

“Not like that! I mean- No, I um, I mean I’m not gonna be using it since I’ll be up and I just washed my sheets and stuff so-“

You choose to save him from his own suffering.

“I would actually really appreciate that.” Just on cue, you yawn softly. “I think I’d be a hazard on the road and I don’t want that to be on your conscious.”

You send him a sheepish smile, hoping he detects the humor in your tone. He must, because his face lights up in a grin. You squeak in surprise when Mike suddenly squats in front of you, gently grabbing your foot and slipping off the one shoe you managed to get on. He stands and helps you shrug off your jacket.

You distantly register the sound of your keys crashing into the tray as Mike leads you down the hall and towards his room. His hand on your elbow is a warm comfort as he guides you to sit on the mattress. He tugs the blanket loose and gently pushes you down. You blink up at him sleepily as he pulls the blanket up to your chin.

“Stay as long as you need. Really. You do so much for us. Just… rest. Yeah?” He smiles down at you and right now you could swear he’s an angel. You feel your lips quirk up out of reflex and your hand reaches up, but you stop yourself before you can brush his cheek.

“Thanks,” you whisper softly. It’s hard to keep your eyes open now. The pillows, the sheets, the blanket, everything smells like Mike and it’s making you delirious. It’s a weird comfort, like Mike is actually holding you in his arms. The smell gets stronger and you want to open your heavy eyes to see why, but the feel of slightly chapped lips against your forehead tells you why.

That’s the last thing you register before sleep drags you into its clutches.

[nicolinocolino]

@wolfstarmicrofic | May prompt #3: love confession | word count: 882

“I dare us—“

Remus’s stomach swoops.

“—to drink this,” Sirius punctuates by setting a delicate glass vial of clear liquid onto the table between them.

“Veritaserum?” Remus asks. Dizziness overtakes him.

A spontaneous game of truth or dare in the Gryffindor common room ended moments ago with Lily daring James to go to bed. It earned laughs all around, although James took it as a euphemism instead of his right cue to leave her alone. It left him with a mouth hexed shut.

Now, with the stragglers headed to their dorms, Sirius and Remus are the only two left.

Sirius looks smug. “Brewed it myself.”

“Why?”

“Just to see if I could.”

They lock eyes with a long, dangerously charged glare.

“Okay,” Remus agrees, his rare Gryffindor courage taking over.

Sirius throws him a wicked grin that has him second guessing.

Remus drinks the potion first, just a sip to coat his tongue, then passes it to Sirius who does not break eye contact when pressing the vial to his lips.

“Is it working?” Sirius asks.

“Yes.” The truth leaves Remus immediately. This will be tricky.

Sirius leans forward, elbows on his knees, chin in his hands. Ringed fingers cradle his face. “You go first,” he decides.

Remus swallows. He’s strung up like a kite. “All right. Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Why did you really brew the Veritaserum?”

“To move this along.” Sirius waves his hand dramatically in the air between them.

“This?”

“Us.”

Remus notices the first hitch he thinks he’s ever seen in Sirius Black’s throat, as if Sirius himself is startled by how reckless the truth feels coming up with no control.

“Truth or dare?” Sirius continues before Remus can respond.

“Dare,” Remus chooses, afraid.

“Really?” Sirius questions him. He sounds annoyed. “Fine then. I dare you to kiss me.”

The space between them shrinks. Sirius, on the opposite couch, still has his chin in his hands. His smile is sly and his movements coltish, like he knows exactly what he’s doing. Having fun, even.

Remus does not move.

“What? Don’t want to?”

“No, I want to,” Remus confesses, then groans. “Don’t do that, Pads.”

“Do what?”

“Cheat.”

Sirius rolls his eyes. “Are you going to play or not, Moony?”

Remus stands up, crosses the distance, and sits next to Sirius on the opposite couch. He can feel his heart beat behind his teeth it’s so fervid; his hand shakes as he gently cups Sirius’s cheek. It’s difficult to think of anything more anxiety inducing than the moments before his transformation every full moon, but this comes awfully close.

“Well, Moons?” Sirius repeats in a whisper. His grey eyes bounce between Remus’s, wide and hopeful.

“Yes, I’ll play.” Remus tucks a strand of Sirius’s hair behind his ear and leans in.

Their lips barely meet before Sirius responds with earnest, smile blooming. Remus’s fingers drift back to comb through curls, tugging slightly. It’s rapacious. Sirius gasps and laughs. Remus can’t do this for much longer before the point of no return will ruin him forever.

“Truth or dare?” Remus pants, pulling away with a wild expression.

“Truth,” Sirius chooses. His lips are shiny, eyes dark. Remus wants to devour him.

“Am I a good kisser?”

“Yes. That was the best kiss of my life.”

Remus has to put some space between them soon before that point of no return opens up like a black chasm and becomes an inescapable void. He gets up quickly, awkwardly, and goes back to the opposite couch. The fire in the fireplace gives a sharp, crackled pop.

Sirius looks disappointed, rejected, almost angry. “Truth or dare?” He snaps.

“Dare,” Remus chooses again.

Sirius sets his jaw tight, exasperated. “I dare you to tell me how you really feel about me.”

Remus takes a deep breath. “I’m in love with you,” he whispers, the truth ringing in his ears after he says it. He hides his hot face in his hands and lets out a strangled, muffled scream. “You clever git. That’s cheating. Merlin, you really are bold tonight.” He risks a peek through his fingers at Sirius opposite him. Face unreadable, the weak flames of the fireplace dancing golden and scarlet across his face.

“Now ask me,” Sirius says softly.

“What?”

“Ask me,” he repeats. “The same.”

“Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

Remus hesitates. “How do you really feel about me?”

“I’m in love with you too,” Sirius is saying, already halfway off the couch, approaching Remus, tucking in next to him on his knees and grabbing his face with force, kissing him for the second time that night.

Love and hunger and relief and joy. And a little bit of panic. They pull at each other, kiss like they can’t get enough.

Remus breaks away. “For how long?” Veritaserum still coursing through them, he will milk the powerful truth potion for all it’s worth.

Sirius does not let their lips be apart for very long. “Moons,” he says through an open mouth. “It’s been all year.”

Remus melts.

“And you?” Sirius continues. “How long?”

“I don’t know. I don’t remember,” Remus confesses.

Sirius slides a hand down Remus’s chest. He feels how heavy and quick it beats under his palm.

“It’s been so long, I don’t remember,” Remus repeats.

It must be the truth.

[emocheol]

first kiss with seventeen

seungcheol

gets all nervous

has been planning this for weeks

wants it to be so good so bad that he ends up colliding his forehead with yours when he’s going in

gets all red from embarrassment and makes you swear to never tell anyone about it (so of course you tell everyone)

“please tell me that wasn’t the worst first kiss you’ve had”

“well if that’s what you want to hear…”

jeonghan

makes you make the first move

can tell that you’ve been wanting to kiss him since you’re always looking at his lips, just wants to make you work for it

will spend the entire day teasing you by getting close and then pulling away

you have to grab his face and hold him there to finally kiss him

he won’t ever let you live down the fact that technically you made the first move

“you’re obsessed with me, huh?”

“you’ve been teasing me all day!”

“doesn’t change the fact”

joshua

extremely confident

just makes out with you when he feels the timing is right

can’t get enough and will not stop kissing you

becomes a norm in your relationship for him to kiss you every second he gets

“why are you always kissing me?”

“why? can’t i show my partner how much i love them?”

jun

shy shy shy

makes a whole romantic date and at the end he asks if it’s okay to kiss you

is soooo nervous that you’re going to say no, but of course you say yes

swears that fireworks explode when your lips touch

he is so whipped for you

“i think im in love with you”

“what was that?”

“uhhh i think we need more glue!”

soonyoung

gives it no thought

just spontaneously kisses you when he gets extra happy one day

“babe! look our song is number 1!” and presses a bunch of kisses on your lips

all he remembers is how nice it feels to kiss you

continues to kiss you whenever he feels like it and loves it twice as much whenever you initiate it

“soonyoung! you just kissed me!”

“yeah! did you not like it? :(”

“no it’s okay, do it again”

wonwoo

quite simple about it

will pucker his lips at you and wait for you to kiss him

won’t get embarrassed over it either

he’s in love with you! he’s not scared to show his affection

“wonwoo what are you doing?”

“waiting for you to kiss me, angel”

jihoon

heat of the moment kiss

everything feels so right

feels like he’d be doing you a disservice if he didn’t kiss you

is the most gentle man on the planet and holds your face in his hands

will let you take control of the kiss, just this one time

you’ll be grinning like an idiot

“what was that for?”

“just felt right”

minghao

encourages you to kiss him first

you just got promoted at your job and you’re over the moon about it, so you’re celebrating with minghao

“you can kiss me if you want” he’ll say as if it’s the most casual sentence ever

you get all shy and press a sweet kiss to his lips

he’ll take the lead

“don’t be shy, sweetheart”

“you’re just too handsome :(”

mingyu

he’ll be sick and sulking because he wants to go on your planned date but he can’t get out of bed

profusely apologizes but you won’t accept them because it’s not his fault!

when he won’t stop rambling you’ll lean down and kiss him to shut up him

when you pull away he has a dopey smile on his face

“do that again!”

“i can’t risk getting sick…”

“i’ll nurse you back to health”

pulls you down to him, and pecks your lips a bunch of times

seokmin

#1 gentleman

wine and dine

“i totally understand if you’re not ready but, can i kiss you?” SWOON

makes you feel like the most special person on the planet

will still ask you if he can kiss you multiple times after that

“can i kiss you?”

“seokmin we’ve been together for a year”

“doesn’t hurt to ask!”

seungkwan

smooth so so smooth

you’ll be playing a game and the prize is the winner gets to make the loser do whatever they want

seungkwan wins (of course)

pretends to think about what he wants even though he knows

“kiss me”

“what?!”

“i won so i want you to kiss me”

cue you being a blushing mess and giving seungkwan a light kiss

vernon

gets home from work one day and kisses you when he walks through the door

you’re shocked and he’s acting like it’s an every day occurrence

doesn’t want to make a big deal out of it

(he’s secretly been wanting to kiss you for weeks)

“what was that for?”

“just missed you, baby”

this becomes a regular occurrence when he gets home from work now

chan

nervous as hell

wants to be smooth and he is!

until he’s not

accidentally bites your tongue (a/n: i have had a man bite my tongue before and it hurt for a week)

profusely apologies but he’s such a cutie, how can you be mad?

“i’m so sorry, do you want me to get ice?”

“no, chan, just kiss me again”

does it right this time

[lustfulslxt]

where reader gf is a shy bookworm and is dating chris. you can take this in any direction if you want to, but the boys are on live and being their normal chaotic selves so reader sits in their living room reading her book in his clothes & he ends up staring at her in awe thinking about how adorable his gf is and matt and nick point the camera at him and show what he’s staring at when fans ask (they already love her) & start making fun of him but chris just rolls his eyes at them but he never stops smiling

Admiration - Chris Sturniolo

warnings : no summary, read request. just fluff and chris being utterly in love

—

Chris’ POV

“Chris! Get in here already.” Nick complains, waving me over to the phone propped in front of him and Matt.

“The fans want to see you.” Matt adds.

I look down at my phone, reading the text from Y/N, stating that she should be here in around twenty minutes. Sighing, I put my phone in my pocket and make my way over to them. It’s not that I don’t want to talk to our fans, I really just want to spend some quality time with Y/N.

“Hey guys.” I smile, nodding to them. I can see the chat blowing up with an insane amount of people attempting to greet me, it’s actually mind blowing sometimes. “How’s everyone doing tonight?”

“So, we were thinking about just doing a little Q&A because we haven’t been live in a long time, but we also didn’t want to just sit here and stare at each other.” Nick says, chuckling a bit.

Immediately, comments come flying in with an intense amount of questions, Matt having to scroll a bit just to read one.

“Where do you see yourselves in ten years?” He reads aloud.

I instantly grin, replying, “Living life with my brothers, my beautiful wife, and our two kids.”

“Hopefully, I’ll also be with my wife and dog, in a nice cabin in the woods.” Matt answers, then looking to Nick, awaiting his response.

“I don’t know, honestly. Probably exactly where I’m at.”

Matt and I both give him a bored look, “That’s lame.”

“What am I supposed to say? With my husband and our eight kids? Newsflash, I don’t like children and I don’t plan on getting married at this point.” Nick counters.

I give a look to the live, saying ‘not again’, before letting my thoughts roam. I miss Y/N. I know she’ll be here soon, but I just can’t get enough of her. I want to live in her skin. As if on cue, headlights shine through the living room window, indicating someone just pulled up.

“I’ll be right back.” I say, quickly heading down to the front door, eager to see my beautiful girlfriend.

Upon opening it, I see Y/N mid reach for the doorknob, gasping in surprise at my presence. Her shock turns into happiness, a smile taking over her face as she pulls me into a hug. I can feel my heart swell with love, enjoying every single moment we share.

“I missed you, mama.” I say to her, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

“I missed you more, baby.” She smiles, gently kissing my lips.

I grab her bag from her, and step aside, letting her come inside, before following her up the stairs. Once we round the corner, Matt and Nick take notice in her presence.

“Oh, hey Y/N!” Nick greets, happily.

Then Matt, “Hey, I didn’t know you were coming. How’s it going?”

“Hey guys, it’s pretty chill. How bout y’all?” She walks over, giving both of them hugs, and a silent wave to the phone once she notices the live.

“We’re good. Just live, doing a Q&A.” Nick replies.

She nods and makes her way back over to me, attempting to grab her bag as she says, “Okay, well I’ll just leave you to it. I need a shower.”

I pull the bag away from her and place my hand on her back, ushering her towards the stairs leading down to my room. Upon entering, I place her bag on my bed and pull her into my arms once more. I can feel her melting into me, causing my heart to flutter. I truly love this girl with everything in me. I pull away and grab her face, bringing her lips to mine in a passionate kiss. After a moment, we part and I place my forehead on hers as we stare into each other’s eyes.

“I love you. Come upstairs when you’re done.” I state, placing another sweet kiss to her lips.

She nods, “I love you too.”

With that, I leave her to it and head back upstairs. Matt and Nick are now in the kitchen, live on one phone, making TikTok’s on another. I stroll over, immediately joining in on their silly dancing.

“Yeaahhh!” Nick hypes me up, waving his hand up and down.

I can’t help but laugh, walking over to the live to read the chat.

u guys are so cuteee

can we be friends pls?

follow me!!!

where’s y/n

play rage!!!!

I shake my head with a grin, participating in my brothers goofy behavior. We continue dancing and joking around, entertaining ourselves and our fans. Being so caught up in them, I only just now realize that Y/N is sitting in the living room, reading her book.

I can’t help the smile that pulls to my lips, my eyes taking her in. She’s so beautiful, especially wearing my clothes that are too big for her, but she still insists on doing so. I know it’s her way of feeling close to me, plus she likes the way they smell. I love the way she furrows her eyebrows when she reads, focusing all of her attention on the words that lay out across the pages. I love the way she sticks her tongue out in concentration, she looks so silly and so cute. I love the way she’s so shy, but when she’s around me, she’s comfortable enough to, unapologetically, be herself. I love the way she brushes her hair back when it falls in her face. I love the way she sits with her knee up and her face lying on it. I love the way she moves her lips around when she’s bored. I love everything about her, and just thinking about it all whilst I admire her, I cannot wipe the ginormous smile off of my face.

“Awww. Chrissy pooh.” I hear Matt coo from behind me.

I turn my head in his direction and I’m met with him and Nick staring at me as they point the phone in our direction. Looking at the screen, I realize they’re showing the fans Y/N in the background, and it didn’t take long for me to put two and two together. They want to know what I’m staring at.

“The fans are eating this up right now!” Nick cheers, “Kid is such a simp.”

I roll my eyes, but the smile never leaves my lips as I shrug, completely agreeing with him. I am a simp. I love the fuck out of my girl, there was no shame in it. Getting up, I walk over to her, joining her on the couch. Instantly, she’s leaning into me, placing her head on my shoulder as my arm goes around her. I press a couple of sweet kisses to her cheek, then lay my head atop hers.

She smells like heaven and it makes me want to become one with her. Pulling her impossibly closer, I place my nose into her skin, inhaling deeply, causing giggles to erupt from her mouth. The sound brings another smile to my lips, enjoying the melodic noise. My hand intertwines with her, squeezing ever so gently.

“You’re the best.” I whisper into her ear.

She turns to me with a bashful smile, “What did I do?”

“Nothing at all. You’re just you.” I shrug, staring at her with so much love. “And I love the fuck out of you.”

Another laugh leaves her mouth, before she’s placing a kiss to my lips. “I love you more, Christopher.”

She can say that over and over and over again, but it will never be true. I need this girl like I need air, because I physically cannot breathe without her.

—

a/n : heyy, i hope you liked this!! sorry it’s super short, and not proofread. ikik i suck :( i’ve recently learned i am terrible at writing fluff lmfaooo

[sweetfushi]

→ SYNOPSIS. jjk men as your clingy husband. → TAGS. kento nanami, satoru gojo, toji fushiguro x reader, fluff.

KENTO NANAMI.

— I’d like to think that Nanami is an affectionate husband, and I don’t mean ‘requires attention 24/7’ affectionate, rather he has subtle and distinct ways of making your heart flutter.

— So when the rare occasion comes around where Nanami seems restless, you can’t help but notice. He’s usually at his desk, immersed in some kind of work with his glasses on the bridge of his nose and his sleeves rolled up.

— Now, he’s standing in the door to the living room with tense posture, though every time you make eye contact with him from your seat on the couch, he seems hesitant.

— So, you open your arms out to him. “C’mere,” you encourage, watching his fingers twitch in what seems to be relief as he approaches you and lays down on the couch with his head in your lap. You take that as your cue to start combing your fingers through his hair and lightly massaging his shoulders.

— He groans. “I apologise, I’m not usually so insistent about clinging to you,” he murmurs, “but I need some relief”. You wince. “Have you been overworking yourself?” Nanami shakes his head lightly, moaning softly when your fingers press into a tense area on his lower neck. “No, not particularly. I just missed you,” he states. That’s evident in how you spend the majority of the remaining night together.

SATORU GOJO.

— I can also see Gojo as having some reluctance to fully embrace his desire for attention, seeing as all those he loved faced unfortunate fates. This doesn’t mean he isn’t one to practically cling to your leg, he just does this in a more reasonable manner.

— You’d be doing the laundry while humming some song you’d spent the week obsessing over when he calls out your name from the bedroom. “Yeah?” you respond. Gojo whines, what you have learned to be his nonverbal method of requesting your presence.

— He’d pull you into bed as he yawns and scratches his chest. “Miss you,” he murmurs into your neck, wrapping his arms around you to pull you against him. “I’m here, love,” you assure him. “I’m not going anywhere.”

— “Mm,” he smiles softly, chest tight. “‘M sorry.” Your brow furrows. “For what?” There’s a brief moment of silence only pierced by the sound of your soft breathing. “Don’t wanna lose you,” he mumbles before falling asleep.

— Your chest tightens at his words, brow furrowed as your eyes threaten to water. His expression was vulnerable, his voice gentle - almost desperate. Pulling his head against your chest, you wrap your arms around his shoulders. “You won’t, Satoru.”

TOJI FUSHIGURO.

— “Damn, mama, you’re looking good,” Toji grins, running a hand through his hair as he observes your form, clad in your nightdress, your robe falling down your right shoulder. He hears you thank him and he almost sighs infatuatedly at the sound of your voice.

— You’re making breakfast the best you can with Toji cuddling up to you, his chin on your head as he wraps his (almost dangerously large) arms around your neck. “Why don’t you sit down, mama. I’ll get this food going, make you a coffee in the meantime,” he offers, frowning when you object, saying you have it covered.

— “Let me rephrase; my wife is going to sit at the table while I enjoy the sight of her and make breakfast,” he counters, grinning when you let out a mix of a groan and a giggle. “But—“ you’re interrupted when Toji picks you up bridal style and sits you at the kitchen table.

— He presses a kiss to your lips, breathing out a laugh at your sleepy pout and immediate compliance. “Why are you up if you’re so tired?”

— “Dunno,” you sigh, “I’m hungry.” Toji shakes his head and starts boiling the kettle before sitting next to you and resting an arm around over your shoulders. “Well, I’m not leaving until you’re satisfied.”

sweetfushi © do not modify, repost, translate, copy or use my post in any way. all that is included in this post, aside from the fictional characters and universes, belong to sweetfushi (zee).

[luvv4j4ybe11]

✧Summary~ Neteyam sees how well you act with children and it makes him think of how good you’d be with your own children.

✧Warnings~ Lots and lots of dirty talk, talk of impregnation, unprotected sex, p in v, breeding,mating press, rough sloppy sex, dom!neteyam, sub!reader, and I think that’s it. Lmk if I missed anything, enjoy love<33

✧Translations- Yawntu-beloved, ma’evenge- my girl

✧For best experience, listen to this song😉

All it took was for neteyam to see the way you acted so motherly to your baby sister, feeding her, playing with her, holding her on your hip while you did some chores that gave him the primal urge to stuff you full of his cum and give you a child of your own.

He walked over to you quickly, braids swinging from side to side fluidly. “Yawntu! I haven’t seen you all day!, how-“ “I need you.” He states lowly, looking at you with lust filled eyes. “Teyam I’m kinda doing something right now-“ you remark, signaling to your baby sister that was sitting comfortably in your lap playing with her toy as you were making a necklace for Neteyam.

“I’ll ask kiri to come and watch her.” He says quickly, wrapping his large hand around your bicep. And as if on cue, kiri and your sister tsireya walk in.

“Hey, y/n” kiri says as she walks over to you and your sister, tsireya trailing close behind. “Sister! How’s she been? Did she say anything yet?” She questioned, picking your sister up from your lap.

You chuckle at her questions, opening your mouth to respond but neteyam is quicker than you. “She’s good. Me and y/n need to go so can you guys watch her?” He says calmly, tugging you up quickly so you’re standing next to him.

They both shake their heads yes before turning their attention back to your sister. Giving neteyam the chance to tug you out of your families marui.

You can barely keep up with his long strides,basically jogging behind him to keep up with him.“Neteyam! What’s your issue?” You say angrily, his demeanor slowly started to piss you off.

He stops walking abruptly, making you collide with his strong back. “Ow! Neteyam what the fuck?” You bark, eyebrows furrowed and tail swishing in an agitated manner. He ignores your question as he turns around, scooping you up from the ground effortlessly and place you over his shoulder. “You’re slowing me down.” He states plainly. Tone husky and accent thick. Which told you how aroused he really was.

You stayed silent the rest of the walk, trying to ignore how he’d brush his fingers up against your needy pussy every once in awhile. When you finally get to your marui he slams the makeshift door shut. Throwing you on the bed gently before climbing on top of you, kissing you heatedly.

“Wanna get you pregnant..” he mumbles into the kiss gravelly, roughly grinding his hard-on into your clothed cunt.

The friction from the cloth makes you bite your lip, already losing your mind in the pleasure. But you still try to pull yourself back to your reality.

“Yawntu, I don’t think we’re ready to-“

“Please baby. Please. You act so well with children and so do I, we both have basically raised our siblings so who says we can’t raise our own children?” He argues, leaving you opening and closing your mouth searching for a response but you’re completely dumbfounded. His logic was something you couldn’t argue with.

He bucks his hips into your cunt, making you moan softly. “Fuck! Fine ok! I want your babies Neteyam, please!” You whine, the words making him growl deeply.

Both of you take off your loincloths in record time, desperate to feel each other. He shoves two of his fingers into your cunt, stretching you out for him. Making you grab his wrist to pull it away.

“Uh-uh. I want you now.” You say seductively, spreading your legs wider to give him room. His breathing gets heavier at the sight infront of him, making him grab your hips harshly. Lining his tip up with your throbbing cunt.

“So desperate for me, aren’t you babygirl?” He says before slamming into you, making you both moan loud and wantonly. His pace is slow and deep, hitting your sweet spot perfectly every time.“Fuck ma’evenge.. wanna see you all swollen and pretty so bad. Gonna look so~hah fuck~ gonna look so good with my baby inside you.” He babbles, cock twitching at the thought of you like that. Making your walls flutter around him and your moans and whines get louder.

He places your legs on your sides, holding them in place. Bending you in ways you never knew you could be. The new angle pushes him deeper inside of you, making the coil in your stomach snap immediately.

He lets out a guttural growl at the feeling of your pussy spasming around him, causing him increase his pace. Sending your fast, deep strokes. You shake and whimper as he uses you, tears prickling in the corners of your eyes. “Te-yam..pl-pleasee!” You shriek, voice bouncing from his ruthless thrust.

He throws his head back, lost in the tightness of your pussy and the sound of your moans. “Nah babygirl, you wanted this remember? Don’t whine now because I’m giving you exactly what you want.” He teases, cocking his head to the side causing his braids to fall in front of his face and a smug smirk to go with it all.

You whine pathetically at his words, cunt squeezing him hungrily. His thrust start getting sloppier and his moans and growls turn more guttural the more your cunt gets somehow tighter around him. Making him lean down to kiss you passionately, cadging your head between his strong arms.

He leaves a trail of kisses from your jaw to your neck, licking and sucking into your skin slowly. “Want everyone to know who you belong to, ma’evenge. Want everyone to know whose name you scream every night. Who leaves you a shaking mess because of how hard he makes you cum” he says seductively, pushing his body into yours. Desperately trying to rub his scent all over you and get deeper inside of you.

The feeling of him stretching your cunt beyond her limits and his words is what pushes you over the edge, your whole body shaking in his grasp.

“Fuck pretty girl, gonna stuff you so full of my cum it’s gonna be dripping down your legs for days. Want that baby? Want everyone to know how much of a slut you are for me you let me knock you up?” He rambles, the obscene squelching from your pussy filling both of your ears.

“Mhm! Please! Want that s’bad, teyam!” You slur, officially drunk on his cock. He groans deeply at this, the noise going straight to your cunt. Your whines feeding his primal urge to stuff you to the brim,mark you, and scent you.

You claw your nails into his back when you feel your orgasm hit you like a wave, spraying your essence all his dick and lower abdomen. The sight and feeling is enough for him to spill his cum into your fertile womb,thrusting in you periodically to make sure you’re filled.

He leaves a row of bites on your shoulder and neck, licking and sucking each one when he was done.

“Now you really belong to me, ma’evenge.”

A/N~ I NEED HIM INSDIE OF ME SO BAD HELP😩 writing this made me so incredibly horny I physically cannot rn. I hope y’all enjoyed this tho😋 stay safe and hydrated bbys🩷

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Taglist: @pandoraslxna @plooto @neteyamswillow @neteyamlove69 @neteyamsyawntu @tallulah477 @alexxie @aperiraa @urlocalgayblueberry @somedays-i-just-feel-bad-bitch @km-ffluv @marcelruizboba @koalalafications @rihnnx @skywonder @hotdsworld

[sim0nril3y]

Hi dear! I love your Ghost and civilian reader fics. Can I request a lil something for Simon taking care of her when she’s injured or sick? I’m having an awful period right now and would love to read about a worried or overprotective Simon taking care of his girl.

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), established relationship, sick reader, common cold, protective Simon, a couple British references, canon-typical swearing.

It appeared that Simon caught the signs of the beginning of your cold before you had. Seemingly always fluttering around from one task to the other you hardly noticed the way you had begun sniffling, voice a little groggier and even complaining about the non-existent draft running through the house even with the heating on full whack and wearing a few layers to fight the chill.

That night sitting down beside Simon with a tea, he shuffled a bit further away from you and muttered. “You’re getting a cold…” It caught a quick laugh to fall from your lips. “Don’t be silly. I feel fine.”

Those were certainly famous last words, though Simon wasn’t about to point that out to you. Instead, he just allowed you to finally cuddle into his side and mentally prepare himself for the week that you follow, you would be a sneezing, coughing mess with a high temperature, all that whilst knowing that you weren’t going to want to slow down and recover, but Simon would need to convince you regardless.

As if on cue, the next morning Simon’s alarm began to buzz beside him, looking over to see you shuddering form beside him, even wrapped up in two blankets and the duvet. A low sigh came from him, placing a hand on your shoulder and shaking softly. You certainly looked sickly, your skin was almost tacky and it looked like you had hardly gotten a wink of sleep. “Just wake up long enough to take some medicine, love.” You sniffled and then sneeze. “M’fine-” Your hoarse voice tried to argue.

“Stop being stubborn.” Simon muttered then, carefully adjusting your pillows so that you were perched upright instead of flat down. “Once you’ve had your medicine you can sleep some more.” He informed you, climbing from bed and moving to make you a Lemsip in the kitchen, returning it to you and watching the grimace that spread across your face. You hated these, especially the lemon flavour. “I’ve put some honey in it.” He placed the warm mug into your hands. “It’ll make it more bearable; I promise.”

Reluctantly you took a sip and whined at the taste. “Bloody hot.” You complained, scrunching your nose and sneezing again, Simon's reflexes were quick, hand shootng out to steady your own so no hot drink was spilled. “Need to drink it whilst it’s hot, babe, or else it won’t work as well.” He informed you, beginning to collect forgotten articles of clothes on the ground, watching as you drank down the rest of the drink despite your utter hatred, as if finishing a shot in the club you held the mug up in victory and announced. “Done.”

“Good girl.” Simon hummed, kissing your forehead and slipping the mug from your fingers. “Try and get some rest-” “Can’t… so much t’do…” You sniffled a few times, about to clamber weakly from bed but Simon put a stop to that. “No, you’re staying here. Doctor’s orders.” Pointing a sharp finger down at her. “Oh, are you m’Doctor?” Even now there was a hint of flirtation to your hoarse tone. “Need t’take my temperature?” Rolling your tongue from your mouth playfully.

Simon smirked despite knowing he shouldn’t encourage you. “Oi, behave yourself.” He commanded. For a moment you giggle weakly, your eyes growing heavier and then shaking the tiredness way. “N-no, I’ve got… got to take them parcels to the post office-” “I’ll handle that.” Simon announced with certainty. “The food shop needs to be picked up too-” “Baby, stop.” Cupping your face he gazed into your sickly eyes. “Stop, okay? I’ve got it under control. Just focus on resting and getting better.”

A quiet whine pulled from your lips as you flopped back against the pillows and looked at him with sad eyes. “Tissues are here…” He placed down a packet on the table beside you. “I’ll bring you some snacks when you’re awake later.” Then gazing down into your eyes with so much seriousness. “Try and get some rest, for me.”

“Fine.” You grumbled, sinking lower into the comfortable sheets and watching Simon stalking around the room for another few moments, collecting anymore used clothes he could find that had been thrown aside uselessly and capturing them all into a basket. “Sleep.” Simon commanded, slipping from the door and closing it firmly behind him.

When you awoke it was hours later, all the chores that needed doing were completed by Simon, even finding enough time to make you some food. He sat beside you whilst you munched sadly. It was clear that the medicine was beginning to wear off, sniffling again more than usual and your features becoming clammy again. “Let’s run you a bath, then I’ll make you another Lemsip, eh?”

You nodded, though it was reluctant, the thought of having to stomach another of them wasn’t one that you were looking forward to. Instead of dwelling, you followed him through to the bathroom, sat aside and waiting for him to run a bath, even using the bubbles that you liked so much, ones he told you were too sweet smelling to want to use, this time he didn’t complain.

There was no denying that Simon was sweeter with you and much softer too. Usually he was full of teasing little comments, pressing your buttons as much as you tested his own. However, it seemed with you full of a cold that he couldn’t stomach taunting you and instead was delicate with you, treating you like you were made of glass which was something you hadn’t realised you’d needed.

“Let’s get you in, babe.” Carefully helping you remove the clothes from your aching body and then guiding you into the comforting depths of the bath. He sat beside and carefully watched your body, trying to wash away the illness from your pores, humming quietly as he made diligent work of it. “You’ll be feeling better soon, baby. Before you know it, you’ll be tearing through the house causing chaos. I promise.”

A throaty laugh came form you then, glazing at him through sore eyes and replying. “Sounds like you miss the normal me, Si~” Glancing down at you as he watched your body with such tender care Simon said. “Hate seeing you like this.” He muttered, leaning in to kiss your shoulder sweetly. “I’d happily take this from you, if I could…”

A frown captured your face. “How about we both be happy and without a cold?” You whined sweetly and he chuckled. “Sounds like a deal, love. Let’s get you better then, hmm?”

Masterlist | Ask | 22-11-2023

[wreckedandpolemic]

screwed up and brilliant - matty healy

(mdni) in which your whirlwind summer takes a turn you never could have predicted. part two of white and gold. 16185 words.

warnings (here we go): daddy kink (obvs), phone sex, authority kink, roleplay, dom/sub dynamics, mean dom!matty, spanking, semi-public sex, gagging, oral (f receiving), mentions of anal, vague allusions to parental fuckery

The singular thought circling through your head the entire way home is what the fuck. If it weren’t for the soreness in your muscles, the bruises on your thighs and your embarrassing lack of underwear, you’d believe you dreamt the whole thing. You stop the taxi a little ways down your street, trying not to draw attention to yourself returning from your unbelievable night. It’s not like your parents would know exactly where you’ve been, but you’d rather save yourself the embarrassment of getting caught coming home from a hookup.

It turns out you didn’t need to worry, though, your footsteps echoing through an empty house as you let yourself in the back. Checking your phone for the first time since you left the dinner with Matty, critically low battery and a text from your mother flash up at you. We’ve gone out for lunch at the Dove. Love you x, the text informs you, a sense of guilty relief washing over you. There’s few things you love more than your house being empty; your shoulders loose without your mother’s nervous, slightly oppressive energy and your father’s meaningful and disappointed glances. Your steps are light as you waltz up the stairs to your room, flinging open your wardrobe to start getting ready before you realise you don’t know what you should be dressing for.

You tip out your clutch onto the bed, business cards, lipgloss and a forgotten pair of earrings spilling on your sheets as you dig for Matty’s number. Tapping the keyboard idly, you try to think of a good opening message, inspiration striking as you catch sight of a discarded bra on your bedroom floor. You slip into a favourite set, black with gold detailing and leaving very little to the imagination, and pose in your bedroom mirror, texting the photo to Matty.

hi x

trying to get ready but i don’t know what to wear :( where are we going?

Fucking hell

Hi, pretty girl

You could wear that and I’d be a very happy man

yeah i bet you would

answer the question perv

I don’t want to spoil the surprise

if you don’t tell me im changing

Fine

Brat

It’s nice but relaxed

Youre not dressing for dinner its not that hard

rude

pick me up in an hour ;)

You turn back to your wardrobe with a groan — what the fuck does he mean by nice but relaxed? A skirt and a nice top? Heels or no heels? What are you supposed to do with your hair? Leafing through your clothes, you find a green sundress tucked away near the back, a vintage treasure you’d picked up at a market a few years ago and promptly forgotten about. By some stroke of luck, it fits perfectly, the skirt swirling gorgeously around your calves. Your reflection grins back at you as you dust on some makeup, finding a dangling pair of jade earrings to match.

Exactly on cue, your phone rings, flashing up Matty’s contact. “Hi, love. I’m outside — well, as close as I dare, anyway. I’m on a double yellow, actually. Risking my spotless driving record for you.”

You snort. “They’ve gone out, park in the drive. I’ll come to the door.” You pad down the stairs as Matty’s tyres crunch on the gravel outside. Smoothing down your hair nervously, you take a deep breath, the blurry outline of him visible through the stained glass of your front door. You swing the door open as Matty raises his fist to knock, giggling slightly at the way he stands, his hand hovering meaninglessly in midair.

His eyes blow wide as he takes you in, crowding you close in a split-second. “Hi, princess,” he grins, electricity tingling under your skin where he holds you by the waist, his body pressed against yours. “If nobody’s home, I can do this,” he breathes, catching your lips and kissing you deeply, licking into your mouth like a starving man.

After a long moment, you find the strength to push him away. “Matty, the neighbours!” you protest.

“Fine,” Matty says, walking you inside and kicking the door shut behind him. He pulls you back to him, catching your lips in a filthy kiss, a slide of lips and tongue, sticky with desire. Groaning into your mouth, his lips fall to your neck, pressing kisses over the concealed bruises on your neck. You can tell he wants to cover them, mark you up as his own, and you giggle as you push his head back.

“Do we have to go to lunch?” you tease. “They’re not gonna be back for hours.”

Matty pinches your ass through your skirt. “Needy girl. You’ll love the place, I promise.” Slowly, like it pains him, he lets go of you and steps back, eyes widening as he properly takes in the sight of you for the first time. “God, you look gorgeous, princess. You look like summer.” You flush, shifting on your feet and glancing at the floor. “Can’t believe I get to have you. You know everyone who sees you is gonna be fuckin’ jealous of me, gonna want my pretty girl for themselves?” He looks livid at the mere prospect, a muscle jumping in his jaw.

You giggle. “But I’ll be there with you. Why would I want anyone else?” you assure him, stretching up to kiss at the corners of his mouth until he cracks a smile. Your chest aches a little at the sight, a private moment of happiness stretching between you. You can almost see the path along with it, a brief flicker of a life with him dancing in your imagination before you swat it away.

Fuck, you’re in too deep. You’re hurtling towards a vast expanse of something, and you don’t even have the strength to look away. You can only hope the breakneck pace isn’t going to break your heart, too.

“That’s right,” Matty says, after what feels like an eternity. “All mine, yeah? Shall we?”

You nod, not yet trusting yourself to speak, and take his hand, sliding into the passenger seat of his car. The smell of clean leather envelops you, mixed with Matty’s now-familiar cigarettes and cologne smell. Matty’s hand lands on your thigh and traces absent circles as he reverses out of the drive. The streets roll by, rows of houses all merging together, your eyes glazing over while you avoid Matty’s gaze. “So pretty, baby,” he murmurs. “My pretty little passenger princess.”

“Does that mean you’ll drive me anywhere I want?” you tease, finally bringing your gaze back to Matty. The afternoon light casts him in a soft glow, his curls ruffling in the gentle breeze. He taps his fingers absently on the wheel, a sick thrill running through you as you remember feeling them on your skin, thighs clenching needily under his touch. You slide a hand between his legs, smirking at the hiss he lets out when you palm gently over his cock. “Promise I’ll make it worth your while,” you add teasingly, plying him with wide, innocent eyes.

Matty chuckles darkly and returns his other hand to the wheel, your skin impossibly cold in the absence his touch leaves behind. “You gonna get me off right here? In the car with the windows down? Such a naughty girl.” He inclines his head as if to say go on, calling your bluff, and you lower your gaze and return your hand to your lap, subdued. “That’s what I thought. Don’t make promises you can’t keep, princess.”

You shrug. “Wouldn’t want to taint your spotless driving record,” you tease, and he tips back his head and laughs, the sound filling the car and wrapping around you, your head going fuzzy with affection. A few minutes later, Matty puts the car in park, leaning over the centre console to kiss you. His hand comes up to cup your jaw, thumbing lightly over your cheek and smiling against your lips. Ever the gentleman, he comes to the passenger side to let you out, and you take his arm and let him lead you inside. 

“Afternoon,” Matty greets the maître d’ with a polite smile. “Healy for two, one thirty?”

“Ah, yes, right this way, sir,” he says, his eyes flickering curiously over you as he leads you through the restaurant.

His gaze lands judgmentally on Matty when he tugs you into him by the waist, and you bristle, deliberately planting a kiss on his cheek as you walk. “Would you like to sit inside or outside?” the maître d’ asks in a tone that suggests he’d rather be anywhere else.

“Can we sit outside, please? It’s such a nice day,” you say, and Matty grins indulgently down at you. He inclines his head at the maître d’, who leads you into the restaurant’s courtyard. Your jaw drops at the oasis you’ve suddenly found yourself in, lush green dotted through with glass tables, quiet chatter undercut with the splash of a dancing water fountain.

“This place is gorgeous,” you say as Matty pulls out your chair for you. “Do you come here a lot?”

He sees right through you, smirking over his menu. “I’ve never brought a girl here,” he tells you, answering the question you’re really asking.

“You keep saying that,” you say thoughtfully. “No bullshitting this time, what makes me so special?”

Matty meets your eyes, holding your gaze deadly serious. “I don’t date a lot, princess,” he tells you. “The girls that I… spend time with…” Your jaw clenches. “They’re not… Well, I need to feel a connection, you know? And I hadn’t felt it in a long time. I was kind of starting to give up hope,” he huffs a quiet laugh, a soft smile crossing his face when he speaks. “And then I met you, and I could just feel it.” He’s gazing adoringly at you, and you suddenly wonder if maybe it’s okay that you’re in too deep, because maybe, just maybe, he’s right there with you.

“Matty, I—”

“Good afternoon!” a bright, falsely cheery voice cuts in. “Are you both ready for drinks?”

Annoyed at the interruption, you purse your lips and address Matty. “I don’t know… What do you think I should get?” you grin, deliberately playing up the affection, leaning towards him and batting your lashes.

“I don’t know, darling. Are you feeling like wine?”

“I can come back,” the waitress says, all pretence at cheer abandoned as she taps her pencil against her notepad impatiently.

Rolling your eyes, you wave a hand at her. “No, stay. Just give me a minute to decide, ‘kay?” You scan the menu and deliberately order the most expensive rosé with a smirk in Matty’s direction. He shrugs, ordering himself a Malbec, and the waitress finally buzzes off.

It feels inappropriate to return to your conversation after the interruption, and you chuckle awkwardly. The breeze ripples in the silence between you, pulling clouds away from the sun so it shines directly into your eyes. Wincing, you shield your face, squinting in a way you’re sure is horrendously unattractive. Matty laughs softly. “Here you go, darling,” he says, pulling his sunglasses off his head and gently resting them on your face. “God, and here I thought you couldn’t get any prettier,” he adds, and you flush, picking at imaginary lint on your dress to avoid his gaze. 

“Flatterer,” you scoff, kicking softly at his shin. “Thank you,” you add, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“S’nothing, princess. Keep ‘em, if you want.” Matty shrugs as if they’re inconsequential, and not a two hundred pound accessory. “Smoke?” he offers as you’re still reeling.

You nod, tilting your head quizzically. “Thought you didn’t want me ruining my lungs?” you tease, slipping the cigarette between your lips.

Matty chuckles. “It’s a beautiful day, you’re getting fresh air, your pretty lungs will survive one,” he teases, flicking his lighter under your cigarette as you take a deep drag.

His gaze lingers meaningfully on you as the smoke curls from your mouth and you squirm. “What?” you ask, desire evident in his eyes; he just keeps fucking staring.

He blinks, shaking his head as if to clear it. “Sorry,” he murmurs. “God, you look fucking hot,” he adds with a chuckle. Just as you go to reply, the waitress returns with your drinks. You give a cursory thanks and take a long sip, full flavour swirling in your mouth. “You know, I wouldn’t have put you down as a dry wine kind of girl,” Matty remarks. “Sweet little thing like you.”

You flush the colour of your wine, but meet his gaze in challenge. “You don’t know everything about me.”

“I’d like to,” he says immediately, and you swallow thickly, his ability to disarm you frustratingly constant. He’s so fucking perfect, it’s actually disgusting. As you’re searching for a response, he perks up, tilting his head to tune into the song playing quietly over some unseen speaker. “Oh, man, I haven’t heard this song in forever,” he gasps, a boyish grin spreading across his face. “I was obsessed with this one when I was younger. Used to be on my band’s setlist and everything.”

Your jaw drops. “You were in a band?” you demand. “Were you any good?”

Matty chuckles. “I’d like to think so. S’a shame it didn’t pan out, really. I would’ve made a great rockstar, don’t you think?” he smirks, visions of Matty clad in a leather jacket, sweaty and gorgeous, crooning into a microphone swimming across your vision.

“Fuck, yeah. I’d have hated fighting your hordes of fangirls for your attention, though,” you sigh, and his grin widens as you stroke his ego. “Were you the guitarist?” you ask, memories of his calloused hands ghosting over your skin.

He scoffs, insulted. “I was the frontman, obviously.”

“Obviously,” you repeat, teasingly blowing smoke in his face as you stub out your cigarette. “But you still play?”

“Yeah,” Matty says, smiling wistfully, the expression taking years off him so clearly that you can almost see the ambitious, idealistic boy he must have been. You hope there’s a world where the band worked out for him, even if it means you’d never have met. “S’just a hobby, though,” he shrugs, interrupting your reverie. “You should hear my mate Hann, he’s fucking wicked.”

Taking a sip of your wine, you sigh meaningfully. “I’ve always wanted to learn how to play the guitar.” You lean purposefully on the words, and Matty grins.

“You want me to teach you?”

You smile blithely. “Oh, please. I can sight read sheet music and everything, I’d be such a good student, Professor,” you add, smirking as he stiffens slightly.

“Oh, behave,” he scolds lightly, tugging at his

collar as if he’s sweating at your words. 

“Make me,” you giggle, meeting his eyes in challenge.

“You know I will, princess,” he says seriously, your skin prickling hot as he watches you, daring you to break first. You’re saved from having to, though, by the same waitress coming to take your order. Not even having picked up the food menu, you let Matty order for you, trusting his taste. 

As it turns out, his taste is impeccable, down to the steak being cooked exactly the way you like. “God, this is fucking delicious,” you exclaim, digging in eagerly. “This place is amazing,” you add, unable to keep the beaming smile off your face. You chat back and forth for a couple of hours, asking about his family and his childhood, cooing at the stories he tells. If anyone were listening, they’d probably be nauseated by your obscene flirting, getting bolder as Matty continues plying you with wine even as he switches to water.

The same waitress returns, the false cheer bright in her tone as she offers you dessert menus. “No, thanks,” you say without taking your eyes off Matty. “We have dessert at home.” You flash your teeth in a grin so there can be no mistaking your meaning.

Matty picks up the bill, and you don’t even pretend to protest. It’s been years since you’ve been on a date you didn’t have to pay for, guys your age from your circles unusually stingy, and you feel guilty expecting broke college boys to pay for you. And it’s only feminist to split the bill with another girl, anyway. “Dessert, yeah?” he smirks as you slide into the passenger seat, and you squirm.

“I promise I’m just as sweet,” you tease. “Take me to yours and I’ll show you exactly how sweet I can be.”

Matty clicks his tongue. “I don’t think so,” he says, and your stomach sinks. “Good girl like you shouldn’t put out on the first date, or didn’t your daddy teach you any better?” he says, a shit-eating grin plastered across his face.

God, he’s a fucking tease. “You didn’t teach me anything like that, Daddy,” you pout. “You can’t get me all needy looking this hot and not let me have you. S’not fair.” You fold your arms, sulking.

“Oh, angel,” he tuts. “Not figured it out, yet? I don’t have to be fair.” And with that, your fate is sealed, Matty dropping you home and leaning over for a chaste kiss that he resists your attempts to deepen. “I’ll see you soon, princess. You know where to find me,” he promises, your eyes not leaving him until his car turns the corner and disappears from view.

You slope inside, disappointed and unsatisfied, plagued with the thought of where you could be right now if Matty had taken you home with him. Your father’s car is in the drive, and you groan to yourself, utterly uninterested in explaining yourself. Of course, you’re expected to anyways. “Where have you been?” your mother demands, and you fold your arms. If she’d asked out of curiosity, genuine interest, it would be different, but she only wants to know so she can approve or disapprove, sneering consternation written across her face.

“Out,” you say shortly, thick tension pulling taut between you.

“With who?” she asks, lips pursed.

“A friend,” you snap. “God, Mum, I went out for lunch, what’s it to you? I’m a grown-ass woman, I shouldn’t have to ask my mummy for permission to leave the house!”

“Language!” she exclaims, and you roll your eyes and push past her, storming up the stairs and slamming the door, finally breathing easy when the lock on your door forms a decisive barrier between you and your parents. Left alone, it doesn’t take long for your thoughts to drift back to Matty and the ache he left between your thighs. You wonder if he’s home yet, if he’ll want to hear your voice, or if it’s too soon.

You war with yourself for a few minutes, but your desire wins out, calling Matty up and laying back against your pillows. “Hello, darling.” He picks up on the second ring. “Missing me already?”

“Mhm,” you murmur, the mere sound of his voice sending a pulse of desire thrumming through you. “Thinkin’ about you. About how you got me all needy.”

He laughs darkly. “God, what am I going to do with you? Naughty girl can’t even keep her hands to herself for an hour. Are you getting wet for me, angel?”

“Yes,” you moan happily, thrilled to get what you want. “I need you.”

“You beg so pretty, baby,” he coos, grunting softly, and you can just picture him, cock half-hard in his palm as you hear the rustle of clothes dropping to the floor. “C’mon, tell Daddy what you want.”

You whimper, dipping your hand under your waistband, slick pooling against your fingertips. “Wish you were touching me,” you moan. “Could’ve brought me home with you. Could’ve bent me over anywhere you wanted, stuffed me full and fucking used me.”

“Such a slut,” Matty murmurs, faint, slick sounds echoing from the other end of the call as he grunts rhythmically. The image of him makes you dizzy, fisting his cock messily, hips thrusting into his hand. You moan quietly, rubbing slow, tight circles into your clit. “Are you touching yourself?” You murmur an affirmative. “Stop.” Your blood runs cold, like you’ve been doused in ice water.

“Wh- What?” you hiss, disbelieving.

“You heard me, darling. I told you, good girls don’t put out on the first date. Daddy’s teachin’ you manners, yeah?”

“That’s not fair, Daddy,” you whine again. “Don’t need you to tell me when I can get off. Managed just fine before you came along,” you add petulantly.

Matty just laughs. “Okay, baby. I’m sure you did. You could hang up this call right now, get yourself off all on your own. But you won’t,” he says, smugly confident. “You know why? Because Daddy knows what’s best for brats like you. And, really, you just wanna be my good, sweet, dumb little girl, don’t you, angel?”

Thick, choking lust envelops you, crushing the air from your lungs as you find yourself whimpering, “Yes, Daddy. Won’t touch anymore,” you say, your mouth moving without your brain’s say-so.

Your body hums with energy, tense with the knowledge you won’t be allowed to release it. “Good girl,” Matty croons, your chest warming at the praise. “Still gotta punish you for bein’ a brat, though,” he adds, through a soft moan. “Don’t want you touchin’ that pretty cunt without my permission, ‘kay?” Your stomach sinks, arousal flaring impossibly in your gut.

“Okay, Daddy. I’ll be good,” you promise, his appreciative moan sending heat spiralling between your legs. You stay on the call until the sound of Matty spilling into his fist fills your ears, leaving you sticky and fucking throbbing with need. It takes you what feels like forever to get your breathing under control enough that your legs will stop shaking to carry you to the shower. You gasp as you plunge into the freezing cold spray, barely enough to quench the fire rolling through your veins. Unable to resist, you text Matty a picture of yourself when you step out, the steam on the mirror teasingly blurring your wet, naked body.

And that is the last time you hear Matty’s voice for an entire fucking week. There always seems to be some obstacle, a friend’s birthday, or a dinner you’re not invited to, or both of you are up to your eyeballs in pointless, mind-numbing work. You’d almost think he was avoiding you, if not for your constant back-and-forth over text and Matty’s incessant pleas for you to visit him at the office. You resist for a while, terrified of being caught and what that would mean for this… thing… that’s blooming between you, still fragile and new.

But it’s driving you fucking crazy, and you miss him, so after a week, you find an excuse; because you’re a good, dutiful daughter, you’re bringing your father lunch to share after he cancelled your meal out yesterday. You zone out after the same five minutes of talking in circles, giving automatic, robotic responses you know he wants to hear. It would be a lie to say you didn’t breathe a sigh of relief when the lift doors ding shut, carrying you up to Matty’s office. You haven’t told him you’re coming, hoping your presence will be a welcome surprise. What you hadn’t counted on, though, was his bleach-blonde secretary, idly tapping on her keyboard and actively standing in your way.

Your heart sinks. She’s pretty, unbelievably so, and barely older than you. If Matty hasn’t already had her, which you doubt, it’s crossed his mind. What if that’s what he’s been doing, all those times he’s complained about leaving the office late? A vision of her spread out on his desk fills your mind, Matty crooning his sweet, filthy words into her ear as her chest heaves. Her boobs are fake, you decide, your gaze flickering to them. It’s not humanly possible for a pair of tits to be that big and perky at the same time. Pushing down the jealousy roiling in your gut, you step up to her desk. Her eyes sweep over you, unimpressed, and she purses her lips.

You push your shoulders back, letting the snotty, spoiled brat who’s never been told no free, a snide grin spreading across your features. It feels fucking good to exercise that facet of your personality again, having tamped down on it since you went to uni — makes it easier to play well with others. Impatiently, you click your fingers in front of the woman’s face. “I’m here to see Mr. Healy,” you say with a saccharine smile. Sure, you could just call him and tell him you’re outside, but this is so much more fun. Especially now that you get to mess with her head, too. Matty’s never fucked her, but she wants him to, you can tell by the way her face falls when she sees you. Good, you think vindictively. Maybe blondes don’t have more fun. Not with him, at least.

“Do you have an appointment?” she asks, voice nasally and grating.

You sigh, like she’s asking you a ridiculous question. “No, but he’ll want to see me, trust me. Tell him… Tell him Angel is here, yeah?” She looks at you, sceptical and detached. “My parents were hippies, what can you do?” you shrug, raising your eyebrows and flicking your fingers patronisingly at her, as if to say go on. Your gazes lock in a battle of wills for a brief moment, but you grin victoriously when she picks up her phone.

“Hello, sir. There’s a girl out here asking to see you.” The way she says girl feels like a slur dripping from her overglossed lips. “Says her name’s Angel? She doesn’t have an appointment, I can send her away, if you like. Won’t be a problem.”

“No, no, send her in. And, for future reference, she’s welcome anytime, okay? No appointment necessary. Actually, I’ll come get her.” Matty’s voice is faint from the other end of the phone, but distinct enough that you can hear his words and the click as he sets the phone down. Seconds later, he emerges from his office, breaking into a wide grin at the sight of you. “Hello, angel,” he grins, kissing your cheek politely but lingering a little longer than appropriate. “Feels like it’s been forever. Come on in, yeah?” He takes you by the waist and leads you to his office, and you throw a smirk over your shoulder at the secretary as you go, a clear message: I win, you lose. “Oh, and Ruby? Nobody in my office for the next hour, alright?” She flushes as red as her name suggests, glaring at you furiously, trying to tell you this isn’t over. You ignore her, though, because you and Matty are finally alone.

“Only an hour?” you giggle. “You’re losing your touch, sir.”

“Oh, sir, hm? That’s new,” he teases as you perch on his desk, drinking in the sight of him with something dangerously close to relief.

You lean forward. “She wants you. So fucking badly,” you remark.

“I know,” he shrugs, loosening his tie with one hand and stroking your bare thigh with the other.

This time, you let the jealousy bubble up to the surface. “Have you ever fucked her?” You know the answer, but you want to hear him say it.

Matty laughs. “Have you ever heard the expression, don’t shit where you eat?” he asks, and you wrinkle your nose and nod. “Well, that goes double for the young, hot blonde the company dangles in front of you like fucking bait, just waiting for you to cross a line.”

You’re starting to see red, his words nothing close to what you wanted to hear. “But you would. If she didn’t work for you.”

He shrugs. “Maybe.” He grips your hips, sliding you closer to him, dislodging stacks of paper and pens from his desk. “If I didn’t have you.” Then, his fingers creep higher, tantalisingly close to where you want them, and you push down the argument you were about to start. Giving up the best sex you’ve ever had isn’t worth it just because you got a little too possessive over someone who isn’t actually yours.

“She’d never be as good as me,” you say bitterly. “I don’t think a man like you would let a little red tape stop you if you actually wanted her. What’s wrong with her, really?”

Matty smirks. “Jealous girl,” he says smugly. “Don’t wanna talk about her when I could have this,” he adds, rubbing slow, teasing circles into your thigh. You whine softly, arching forward into his touch. “You’d be better than her, yeah? You wanna prove it?” You tilt your head quizzically. “Let’s say you’re my secretary, yeah, baby?”

A thrill runs up your spine. “Yes, sir,” you breathe. You slide off the desk to prop yourself in the chair opposite his, unbuttoning your blouse a little and leaning back with a smirk. “You wanted to see me, sir?” you say, playing up your wide, innocent eyes.

“Yes,” Matty says thoughtfully. “I think we need to discuss your behaviour in my office.” You bite your lip to clamp down on your grin, nodding seriously. “Always in those short little skirts, bendin’ over so you can show off those pretty, lace panties. You wear those for me, don’t you, baby?”

You smirk, popping the buttons of your blouse past decency. “You’re wrong, sir.” You spread your legs wide, and he chokes on his inhale. “I’m not wearing any panties.”

Matty groans, sweeping his desk clear, pens and paper scattering across the floor. “Bend over,” he orders sharply. “Now.”

You stand to obey, then pause. “Wait one second,” you say, darting around the desk so you’re face-to-face. “Just realised I haven’t done this yet.” You sling your arms around his neck and press your lips against his, kissing him hungrily and melting at his touch. Desperately, you try not to dissect the relief flooding your body from the point where his hands meet your skin. “Okay,” you say as you pull back, breathless. “M’ready now.”

Bracing your elbows on the desk, you bend over, baring your dripping cunt as Matty shoves your skirt up your thighs. “Spread your legs for me.” You obey, but he just growls and kicks them further apart, a shocked sound pulling free from your throat. “Wider,” he orders. “Not doin’ such a good job of convincing me you’d be so much better than her, you know,” he says, tone almost conversational if his nails weren’t digging into your hips so hard they’ll bruise. 

Angry, red-hot jealousy floods your veins, tangling cruelly with the ball of anticipation winding tight in your core. You can’t decide whether to go lax, let Matty have his good girl, or to fight against him for comparing you to her. It doesn’t take long for the brat to win out. “You want her so bad? Call her in, then,” 

You can practically hear Matty’s eyebrows raise, the realisation you won’t let him have this so easily setting in. “You want me to, baby?” He clicks his tongue. “I don’t think so. I think you’re jealous of the pretty girl who sits outside my office all day.” He reaches around to pop another button of your blouse. “And you’re scared of what I might be doing with her when you can’t see.” He pulls your shirt out of the waistband of your skirt and tugs it off your shoulders. “So you want her to know exactly what we’re doing in here, so you can lay some kind of claim on me. Am I right?” Your mind spins as you try to think of a smartass response, thoughts jolted free from your head when Matty spanks you harshly. The crack of skin on skin might have been loud enough to be heard from outside, you think with a pulse of satisfaction. “Unless the next words out of your mouth are yes, sir or yes, Daddy, I don’t want to hear it.”

“Yes, Daddy,” you moan out, your cunt throbbing needily. “You’re right. Want her to see how good you fuck me, want her to know she could never make you feel as good as I do,” you say, the admissions stumbling one after another from your lips, unbidden.

“There’s my good girl,” he coos, your stomach clenching at the sound of his belt unbuckling, his zipper falling. “Such a little brat when you’re gagging for my cock, aren’t you, princess?” You nod furiously, whining as he teases your hole with the tips of his fingers. Desperate for friction, you grind back against them, weak, helpless moans tumbling from your lips. “Beg for it.” You choke on a gasp. “Go on, angel. You want my cock so bad? Beg for it.”

You don’t even have time to pretend to have dignity before wanton pleas spill free. “Fuck, Daddy, please! Want your cock so fucking bad, always make me feel so good, s’not the same when I do it myself,” you whine, giving a shuddering gasp when he teases your clit with the tip of his cock. “Please! I’m beggin’ you, Daddy, I’ll be good, I promise.”

Matty chuckles. “Alright, baby, alright,” he murmurs soothingly, lining himself up with your soaked entrance and sliding home so fast you’re gasping. Your knees buckle as you scramble for purchase on the desk, nails scraping against the varnished wood. “Oh, princess, it’s okay, Daddy’s here now,” he soothes, your cunt pulsing desperately around him. “Look at you, bein’ all sweet for me now you’re stuffed full. Such a dumb little slut, aren’t you, baby? Bet you wish you didn’t have to think about anythin’ except my cock.”

“Mhm,” you whine, arching your back as much as you can, your tits pressing against the cool wood of the desk. “M’just your stupid little slut, Daddy, please fuck me,” you beg, grinding back against him.

Matty’s hips slam suddenly against yours, a whining scream tearing from your throat as pleasure spills over in your veins. His hand comes down to cover your mouth, your body going limp against his. “Shh, princess. I’m at work, remember?” The reminder that fucking anyone could come to his door, know exactly what he’s doing to you, sends a thrill up your spine. “Can you be quiet, hm? Or do I need to make you quiet?” Another deep thrust draws a long, low moan from your throat, and he seems to have answered his own question. The fabric of his tie covers your mouth, spit leaking out around it. “There you go, angel. Nice and quiet for me. Bang on the desk if you need me to stop, okay?”

You nod, something that might be yes, Daddy coming out garbled around the gag. Matty fucks into you brutally, your chest heaving as ecstasy burns under your skin. “Good girl,” he coos. “Good, sweet girl. Takin’ my cock so well, princess. Such a pretty toy for your Daddy.”

Matty sets a bruising pace, your tongue pushing against his tie as it holds back your pathetic little noises. Your tits press against the desk, the sharp tip of a pencil digging into your bare stomach. You barely feel it, unconscious of anything but Matty’s skin against yours. “God, you feel so fucking good, princess. Daddy’s girl, aren’t you? Why would I ever want another girl when I’ve ruined you so perfect for me? Look at you, good little girl gagged and bent over my desk like a whore.” You moan, filthy words washing over you, sliding down your throat, sticky, wet pleasure dripping out of you.

You’re dizzy with lust, dazed and drooling, ecstasy spiralling through your bones. You can’t even think, Matty fucking all coherence out of you, every thrust clouding your mind more and more. Garbled moans fall from your lips in a filthy, spit-slick string, Matty’s rhythmic grunts swirling deliciously around your head. The calloused pads of his fingers find your clit, euphoria scorching in your bloodstream at the scrape over your swollen nerves. Your legs feel like jelly, melting hot and sweet under Matty’s touch. “You’re close, aren’t you, baby? Can feel your pretty cunt squeezin’ me so tight, princess. You wanna cum for Daddy?”

A few more rough circles over your clit, one more deep, spearing thrust and you break, wailing around the gag. “Good girl,” Matty croons, fucking you through as stars shatter behind your closed lids. Liquid ecstasy melts your bones, glueing you to the desk. Matty groans your name, cock pulsing as he spills inside you, a sound that’s pure desire falling from his lips. Still inside you, he unties the gag, letting it fall onto the desk as you draw a deep breath. “How are you feeling, angel?”

“So good,” you murmur, voice scratchy from disuse, whining as he pulls out of you. “Always make me feel so good, Daddy,” you add, letting Matty flip you around and set you on the desk, his eyes falling to your glistening core. Cum drips obscenely from you, puddling sticky and wet on his desk, a filthy smirk crossing his face.

“Good girl. So pretty for me, darling.” He tucks himself away, and once his belt is buckled he’s the picture of professionalism while you sit in front of him, sex-rumpled and half-naked and panting. “First girl I’ve ever fucked in here, you know,” he adds, so offhand you’d almost miss it if it it hadn’t made your heart jump into your throat. You can’t make head or fucking tail of him, one minute taunting you with his pretty secretary, the next swearing that you’re special. “M’sorry, darling, I don’t have much in here to clean you up with,” he says with a soft laugh, wiping a tissue through your folds and crooning soothingly when you whimper.

“S’okay. Was worth it,” you say. Your limbs feel tired and heavy, your eyelids drooping as you glance at the time and realise half your allotted hour is gone.

“You tired, sweet girl?” he asks with a soft, fond chuckle.

“Yeah,” you yawn. “You wore me out. Wish we were in bed. That was the best sleep of my life,” you confess, huffing a soft laugh.

You shudder as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch careful and tender. “Soon, princess, I promise. I’m sorry we haven’t seen each other. Missed you,” he says, and the admission melts in your chest, glueing your organs together and squeezing tightly. You sigh, the question on the tip of your tongue dissolving like a sugar pill as your resolve shatters. “How’s your week been, angel? Your friend’s birthday, right?”

You swallow a grimace. Isobel is hardly your friend, in the same way your parents aren’t friends, but you run in the same circles so proximity forced you into something resembling friendship. “Oh, the usual,” you say idly, twirling a curl that’s sprung loose from the gel in his hair around your finger. “Drinks, drugs, boys,” you tease, grinning when his jaw clenches. So he can dish it out but not take it? Interesting. 

“Did you talk to any boys, princess?” he asks, eyes glittering dangerously.

Shrugging airily, you kick your legs where they dangle off the desk. “So what if I did?” you challenge. The next words wrench themselves free of your mouth, tasting bitter as they fall. “We’re only fucking, it’s not like you actually own me. If I want to fuck someone else, are you gonna stop me?”

The question hangs thick and acerbic in the air between you and Matty swallows visibly. “No,” he says after a pause. “You can fuck whoever you want, princess. Won’t be as good as me, though, and you know it,” he says, smug and acrid.

The air between you is tense, horribly charged and all wrong, and you can feel tears prickling at the back of your throat. “I should get going,” you say abruptly, getting to your feet. “I’ll see you soon,” you add, not looking back at him as you cross the room.

“Say hi to Ruby on your way out, yeah?” Matty says, something close to a sneer in his voice. As you open the door, though, you paste on a blithe smile and relax your shoulders for Ruby’s benefit. 

“Hope it’s not you who has to clean up in there,” you smirk as you pass. “Made a bit of a mess,” you giggle, savouring the way Ruby’s face shifts in colour as she swallows her grimace.

And so you leave Matty’s office more confused about what he wants than when you fucking came in. Something shifts between you after that. Your words don’t change, Matty just as syrupy-sweet as ever, but the difference is palpable, sugared words souring as you digest them. He gets even more possessive while you fuck, more degrading, insisting you’re such a little slut, baby. Whoring yourself out to every fucking boy who looks at you, but you always come runnin’ back to your Daddy, yeah?

But it’s not always angry and mean. Sometimes, it’s slow and so sweet you could swear it’s loving, Matty lavishing you with praise, murmurs of that’s right, such a good girl and Daddy’s girl, so pretty for me soaking into your skin and tying themselves in knots around your brain. Some nights, especially recently, you don’t even fuck when you go to his place. Being there is a comfort, away from catty friends and overbearing parents, somewhere you can just be. Last night, you’d suddenly realised you kind of just weren’t in the mood, apologising and making to leave, and he’d just kissed your temple, pulled you in close and asked what your favourite movie was. And you started to believe. And then you’ll go out for drinks, so much as mention a boy’s name; he’ll toss a jab about some pretty young girl he works with, and you’re right back where you started, tearing each other apart at the seams. 

You’re this close to ripping your fucking hair out, sick to death of bottling it all up when you finally decide you need to unload on someone. “I just don’t get him,” you complain, your best friend Thea making sympathetic noises at all the right moments. “One minute it’s all you’re my girl and my pretty baby, the next it’s such a whore, bet you’d let anyone fuck you.”

“But you’re still sleeping at his place?” Thea asks, judgement obvious in her tone.

You groan. “Yes, leave me alone! If you saw the state I’m in after, you’d understand.”

Thea clicks her tongue. “And you haven’t actually fucked anyone else?”

“No,” you admit, defeated. “Don’t know if I could, to be honest.”

“Does he know that? Has he?”

“No and I don’t know. I just don’t know where I fucking stand, and I can’t ask. He’ll think I’m some pathetic little girl who can’t handle it, I know it.”

“You know what you need? You, me, a pair of slutty little dresses, and those fancy cocktails with about twelve kinds of alcohol in them from 102. I’m not taking no for an answer, I’ll see you at ten.”

And, true enough, at eleven you’re clutching a gin bowl for dear life and screeching along to the song thumping through the club’s speakers. “I need a refill, c’mon!” you shout in Thea’s ear, dragging her off to the bar where you can hear slightly better.

Despite the queue, the bartender stops in front of you with a smile. “Love that dress. What can I get for you?” You scan the menu, brow scrunching in a frown, but your words die in your throat as the bartender steps into slightly better light and you take her in properly. She’s a fucking goddess, model-pretty with thick, dark hair and long-lashed brown eyes. 

Thea swats your arm and you realise your gaze has drifted down, and you pull it back up to where she’s waiting with a smirk. “You’ve— The menu’s changed. I used to get a Sucker,” you manage to get out around the lump in your throat.

“Alright,” she says cryptically. “And you?”

Thea shrugs. “I’ll have what she’s having, I’m not picky.”

She laughs. “Oh, no. You two do not pick the same poisons. I’ve got this, okay?” Slightly entranced, you watch her work, setting something golden and glittering in front of you. “Sunshine Baby,” she says with a wink. “And for you… Antichrist.”

Thea takes her swirling, dark drink with a delighted grin. “She was into you,” she teases, nudging you with her hip.

“Oh, please, she wanted a tip.” The pair of you find a table, one with a prime view of the DJ booth so you can ogle the hot, blond DJ as he whips the crowd into a frenzied mass of sweating bodies. You keep returning to the same bartender, whose name you learn is Charli, and she keeps plying you with free shots for hot girls and increasingly strong drinks, until you find yourself stumbling onto the dancefloor and losing track of Thea.

Your head feels light, your body loose in a way it hasn’t been in weeks, the alcohol dampening your coherent thoughts. A pair of hands find your waist, and you twist your head back to meet the eyes of their owner. He couldn’t be further from Matty if he tried; your age, for one, tall, willowy and blond. The kind of man you’d usually never have looked twice at. But maybe that’s exactly what you need right now, you think, grinding your hips back against his with a grin. “Can I get your number?” he asks, pulling you free of the dancefloor, sweaty and flushed and smiling freely. After a long moment of consideration, Matty’s warning gaze flashing in your mind, you smirk and give it to him. “Let me take you out. You free Thursday?”

His overconfidence is jarring, and you swallow a frown. “I don’t know,” you tease. “Maybe. Why don’t we get back out there and you can convince me?” You obviously aren’t going to fucking go. Even as drunk as you are, you know that. Whatever this thing with Matty is, it’s serious to you, and you know the pair of you need to untangle it. But, for now, you shove it to the back of your mind, distracting yourself with free shots from a pretty boy, your head spinning wildly by the time you find Thea.

She might even be drunker than you are, stumbling and slurring as you bundle her into a taxi; she lives on the other side of town to you, so it doesn’t make sense to share. “Go, I’ll be fine,” you insist. “There’ll be another one in a minute, okay? Bye! Love you!” you shout as the car pulls away, Thea’s slightly green-tinged face hanging out of the open window. Left alone, you suddenly realise just how drunk you are, your vision blurred as you slump to the curb. When ten minutes pass without a taxi appearing, panic starts to set in; it’s too close to closing time and you’re too drunk, 102 won’t let you back in, and it’ll be the same story anywhere up and down the street. You’re alone in the dark, bile rising in your throat as you do the only thing you can think of and dial Matty.

“Hello?” he says, voice gruff with sleep. “Bit late to be calling, darling. Can’t sleep? Need some help to relax?” he adds, his smirk audible.

Your voice wavers as you speak. “M’sorry, I didn’t know who else to call,” you say, choked with the effort of holding back tears. “I can’t call my parents, I don’t have any fucking friends who’d care, there’s no taxis, I—” you cut yourself off with a hysterical gasp.

Matty shushes you soothingly. “Baby. Baby, breathe. Breathe for me, okay?” You try your best to obey, drawing deep, hiccuping breaths, shuddering harshly on the exhale. “What’s wrong, love?” You stumble your way through an explanation, babbling profuse apologies, mortification creeping up your spine. “Darling, it’s okay. Don’t be sorry. Where are you?”

“102,” you sniffle. “It’s—”

“I know the place. Sit tight, okay? I’m getting in the car now, I’ll be there soon. I’ve got you, promise.” The wave of relief that floods your body when you finally spot Matty’s car pulling to a stop in front of you is near-crippling, and you’d have collapsed when he wraps his arms around you if he wasn’t supporting your weight. “Oh, baby. Sweet girl, it’s okay. I’m here now. I’ve got you,” he repeats soothingly, only pulling away when you stop swaying on your feet. “God, you smell like the floor of a dive bar,” he teases, and you chuckle weakly. “C’mon, angel. Let’s get you in bed, yeah?”

You murmur another apology as you slide into the passenger seat, and he waves it away with a smile. “Hey, my house is the left back there,” you say, the cool night air having snapped you back to yourself a little.

“I know,” Matty says quietly. “I’m not sending you back there alone, darling. Promised I’d take care of you, didn’t I?” he says, his hand on your thigh gently calming instead of teasing.

“Thank you,” you mumble, looking down at your lap as Matty parks the car in his drive.

“Any time, angel. I’m serious. I’m glad you called. Don’t ever want you to think I won’t be here if you’re not okay.” And fuck if that sickening, chaotic mess of feelings doesn’t just bubble right back up to the surface. He leads you into the kitchen, your body curled into his to steady yourself. “I’ll get you something to eat, okay?”

You shake your head. “Mm-mm. You’re already doing too much. And I won’t keep it down, anyway,” you say, pressing a hand to your roiling stomach. “I just need to lie down.” You start to wander into the living room, and Matty grabs your wrist gently. 

“You need to eat something, darling. Drink some water, sleep in a bed,” he adds insistently. You let him fuss over you, plying you with a slice of toast and a glass of water, and you tuck yourself into his chest as he carries you up to bed. Dressed in one of his well-worn shirts, his familiar scent fills your lungs, comforting as he tucks himself into bed next to you.

“Thank you,” you repeat. “Can’t say it enough. Didn’t have to do all this, Matty. I would’ve been okay.”

“Don’t want you just okay,” he answers. “Want you feeling good, and safe, and happy. Get some sleep, love, m’here.” You close your eyes obligingly, but your drunken haze lifting has set your thoughts free, spinning like a coin set on its edge that just won’t fall. Your night plays back in sickening detail behind your lids, the memory of the boy’s hands on you bringing bile up your throat. Laying in Matty’s bed without having been thoroughly exhausted first always plays with your sanity, your brain wandering to places you know it shouldn’t go as he sleeps peacefully next to you.

The sun is coming up by the time you give up on sleep, hoping Matty’s rhythmic breathing means he won’t hear you trying to sneak away. No such luck, though. “Where you goin’, sweetheart?” he asks, and you feel a stab of guilt at interrupting his sleep yet again.

“Home. I’ll get out of your hair, now. Thank you again,” you say quietly.

“Baby. Princess. Come here, come back here,” Matty says, and he looks so sweet and earnest, sleep-soft and smiling, that you obey, and you can’t help the happy little sigh that escapes you as he pulls you close.

Shame burns hot through you as you remember the previous night all over again, and you can’t stop yourself from blurting out, “A boy asked me on a date last night.”

Matty’s hand tightens on your hip. “What did you say?” he asks, voice low with warning.

You sigh, steeling yourself to look into his eyes. “What do you want me to have said? you answer, and he blinks, confusion written across his features. “What is this, Matty? Because if this is casual, if you just want a shiny young girl on your arm for a few months, it’s fine by me,” you lie, pushing down the nausea that pools at your words. “But if this is just fun, we should be allowed to see other people — are you seeing other people?” you ask, tension winding between your shoulder blades as you prepare for the answer. 

“No,” Matty practically growls. “And I’m not fucking anyone else, either, before you ask. I haven’t in weeks.” He huffs a laugh. “I tried, the day I met you, tried to get you out of my head ‘cause I didn’t think I’d get to have you.” His thumb rubs gentle circles into your hip, his touch comforting as his words soak in, a soothing balm to your nerves. “Didn’t fucking work. Couldn’t stop picturing you instead,” he confesses. “You’re in my head, princess. M’sorry I let my little strop go on so long. Thinkin’ about some other man touching you was driving me crazy. I was bein’ selfish. If you want to see other people, I—”

“I don’t,” you interrupt. “Only want you.”

He breaks out in a wide grin. “Pictured this being a bit more romantic, but,” Matty pinches your hip gently, and you giggle, pressing a soft kiss against his lips. “You’re my girl, yeah? Properly mine.”

“Yeah,” you say, practically glowing as you smile back at him. “As long as you’re mine.”

He threads a hand into your hair, kisses you like breathing is a choice, licking eagerly into your mouth as you melt against him. “What are you gonna say if another boy asks you on a date, princess?”

“I have a boyfriend,” you beam, just using the word making your heart warm. The tangled knot that’s sat in your belly for weeks now blissfully untied, your body feels loose and happy and willing. “I’m gonna have a shower, okay, then I’ve gotta thank you properly, yeah?”

A filthy smirk pulls at Matty’s lips. “I like the sound of that.” You giggle, pressing a kiss to his nose before climbing off him.

“You would,” you tease, padding into the bathroom and running the shower. You luxuriate under the water for several long, glorious minutes, the water pressure melting the last lingering tension between your shoulders. The smell of the club lingers in your hair until you scrub it with Matty’s expensive shampoo, the smell familiar as you work your fingers over your scalp, lingering like you’ll be able to absorb him through your skin. You towel your hair mostly dry, despite your insistence that Matty was committing a cardinal sin by doing the same, and wander back into the bedroom still naked and dripping wet.

Matty chokes on a gasp. “Fuck. Hi, gorgeous.” The praise heats your cheeks and you kneel at the foot of his bed, clasping your hands behind your back.

“Hi, Daddy,” you say sweetly. “I said I’d thank you properly. Gonna show you what a good girl I can be. Best girl you’ll ever have.” Matty smirks, sitting up to give himself a better view. “Can do whatever you want with me. All day long.” He smirks, dirty and sleazy and delicious, and pats the sheets next to him.

“C’mere, princess. Up you get.” You scramble to obey, sighing happily when he tangles his legs with yours and kisses you slow and deep. His hardness presses against your thigh as you make out, his hands wandering to your ass and squeezing. “God, so perfect, darling,” he praises. “Can’t believe you’re all mine.”

“Yours,” you whimper into his mouth, almost deliriously happy. His kiss is almost ferocious, hungry and devouring, desire coiling under your skin. “Daddy, please. Want you so bad,” you murmur.

Matty laughs. “Patience, angel. Thought you were gonna be good?” he says, but it’s light and teasing, without any of the underlying meanness that might have laced his tone a week ago. You relax, tension unspooling in your belly as you put your trust in him. His hands skim over your body, somehow both gentle and working you into a frenzy. A litany of pathetic little whimpers fall from your lips as you squirm under his hands, Matty smirking into the kiss. “Sweet, needy baby,” he croons. “Missed havin’ you all sweet for me. M’sorry I was so mean, princess. Gonna make it up to you, I swear.” His fingers finally find your clit, heat welling between your thighs. It takes a Herculean effort to stay still, not react beyond your involuntary gasp, but the proud little smile on Matty’s face is worth it. “Good girl. Tell Daddy what you want, angel.”

You nod, swallowed in hazy pleasure as he rubs slow circles over your clit. “Want you to fuck me,” you choke out, your throat closing in overwhelming arousal.

Matty rolls on top of you, connecting your lips in a messy kiss. “Of course, baby. You okay like this? Wanna watch your pretty face while I fuck you.”

“Please,” you breathe. Matty doesn’t tease, just rubs gentle circles over your clit as he enters you, moaning softly into your mouth. Your hips roll, desire pooling under your skin as he fucks you slow and deep.

“God, missed havin’ you like this,” he breathes, his head falling into your shoulder. “Oh, darling, I know, I know. Daddy’s here, I’ve got you, okay?” he murmurs as you whimper softly, languid, bone-deep pleasure rolling over you. Matty’s eyes are liquid with affection, his lips curving into an unconscious smile.

His lips find yours again, your tongues sliding together as punched-out gasps fall from your lips in time with his smooth, measured thrusts. It’s immeasurably intense, Matty playing your body like a symphony, and you’re powerless to do anything but whine and writhe. “Thank you s’much, Daddy. Feels so fucking good,” you whimper, locking your legs around his waist. The change in angle is glorious, ecstasy winding through your bloodstream as Matty rubs circles into your clit.

“Good girl,” Matty murmurs, “Such a good girl for Daddy. My girl, my fucking girl. Wish I could keep you all sweet and cockdrunk for me all the fuckin’ time. Fuckin’ wish I could have you as my little kept girl, have this pussy at home waitin’ for me every fuckin’ night,” he groans, the familiar fantasy spiralling through your mind. He murmurs soft, sugary words into your ear, liquid desire melting your brain until you’re sure it must be dripping from your ears, soaking the sheets under your hair. “So, so pretty, darling. Look so gorgeous while I’m fucking you, god.”

You glow at the praise, heat thrumming under your skin as his hips meet yours over and over. You’re practically delirious, lost in thick, syrupy pleasure, the lewd sound of skin meeting filling the room. “Mmh, oh, my God, fuck—” you gasp, pleasure coiling tight in your belly as you dig your nails into his back. “M’gonna cum, Daddy, oh, my God, need it s’bad. Wanna cum, wanna make you cum, shit. Need to feel it, need you to fill me up, make me yours, God, please!”

“Fuck, such a good girl,” Matty gasps, his rhythm faltering as he gets closer. “Can hold on for me, just for a second, yeah? Wanna cum together,” he adds, and you whine, rolling your hips up against him and trembling with the effort of holding your orgasm at bay. He fucks into you with deep, sloppy thrusts, moaning into your mouth and pinching your clit. Garbled moans of fuck and yes and Daddy stumble from your lips, sticky, hot desire dripping from your cunt as you writhe under him. “Fuck, princess, you ready?” Matty gasps against your lips.

“Yeah, m’ready, Daddy, c’mon. Cum in me, fill up this slutty little pussy. M’yours, your good girl, your little cumdump. God, need it s’bad,” you moan, breaking into a whine as Matty spills inside you with a groan. Your orgasm follows a split-second later, moaning against Matty’s mouth with stardust glittering in your veins. Euphoria scorches under your skin, your head floating clear of your body as pleasure floods you, gasping and moaning. “Thank you,” you say dopily, smiling up at him as he pulls out. You widen your legs to watch his cum dripping out of you, pooling obscene and sticky on the mattress.

Matty watches you with a laugh. “Little cumslut,” he says fondly.

“Your little cumslut,” you smirk, stretching out your sore muscles. “When I said anything you want, I meant anything,” you grin. “Want me to be your little kept girl? Cook and clean for you while you look all pretty and important?”

He chuckles. “First of all, I’ve seen what you think passes for a meal, princess. Don’t know how you haven’t poisoned yourself.” You swat his shoulder, laughing. “Second of all, if you can stand right now, I haven’t worked hard enough,” he says, a smirk pulling at his lips. 

“You’re lucky I like you cocky,” you tease, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth and testing your weight on your feet as you stand. Matty catches you as you stumble slightly, I told you so written plainly on his face. “Don’t,” you warn, before it can leave his mouth.

“Y’know, I think I like the sound of having a little housewife for the day,” he grins, your stomach tying itself in a knot at the word wife from his lips. “C’mon, sweet girl, I’m sure we can find something for you to occupy yourself with while you’re waitin’ for me to fuck you dumb again, huh?” he teases, your thighs clenching at the words. You bend to reach for your clothes, and he tsks softly. “Didn’t say you could get dressed, did I, angel?”

“No, Daddy. I won’t.” You swallow thickly, following him downstairs, feeling shockingly exposed in the glare of the sunlight pooling from the floor-to-ceiling glass windows. Matty’s cum trickles down your thighs as you hover beside him.

“Make us some tea, would you, darling?” he says, casual like you’re not naked and dripping cum on his pristine kitchen floor. “Shame you haven’t got a little apron, or something. Think I’d go a bit crazy, seein’ you in my kitchen dripping wet in nothing but an apron and a smile. Gotta teach you how to cook someday, if you wanna be my kept girl,” he continues, still maddeningly conversational as your cunt pulses wantonly at his words. “Tea, darling? Or have I got you too dumb for that without even touching you?” he teases.

Almost mechanically, you fill the kettle and flick it on, dropping a teabag into a mug for him and wrinkling your nose unsubtly. “Can I have a coffee? I don’t do tea.”

Matty laughs. “Course, princess. Want you to make yourself at home. Coffee’s just down there.” He points to a cupboard near your feet, stroking over the curve of your ass as you bend over. You don’t realise his game until you scan the contents of the cupboard and find nothing but pots and pans, and his fingers are tracing your messy, sensitive cunt. “Oops, did I say down?” he deadpans, reaching above your head to open another cupboard. “I meant up.”

“Perv,” you tease, retrieving the tin of coffee as the kettle whistles.

“Can’t help it,” he murmurs, dipping his head to kiss softly at your neck and jaw. “Too fucking gorgeous. Can’t believe you’re all mine.”

You giggle, breaking his hold to pour your drinks. “Can’t believe it took us this long. We’re idiots, kind of.”

“A bit,” he chuckles, accepting his tea and taking a sip. “So, what did you say? To that boy?” he asks, and you roll your eyes.

“No, obviously. Felt so guilty taking his number. Deleted it in the car,” you admit, staring into your coffee to avoid his gaze.

“Good girl,” he praises. “Knew nobody could fuck you like me, right? Nobody could treat you as good?”

You flush, setting your drink down and hopping up onto the counter, crossing your legs behind his back as he crowds into your space. “No, Daddy. Only you, I promise.”

Matty cups your jaw. “That’s right, princess. All mine. And I’m yours,” he says, cupping your jaw and connecting your lips in a searing kiss, drinking in the taste of you as you pour your emotions into his mouth. “So perfect, such a perfect girl for me,” he says, sucking a bruise into your skin and working his way down. He presses kisses over your tits, one hand coming up to play with a peaked bud as he wraps his lips around the other. You whine, arching your back and pushing against his attentions, a low buzz of pleasure growing in the back of your skull. “Love these tits so much, baby. So fucking perfect,” he murmurs against your skin, pressing a kiss in the valley of your breasts and tracing his fingers down, your muscles tensing at his touch. Desire whirls in your stomach, your head light and skin loose on your bones. He drops to his knees on the cool tile floor, kissing your knees as he spreads your legs wider, eyes blowing impossibly wider at the sight of your dripping cunt. “God, made such a mess of you, huh, princess? Want Daddy to get you cleaned up?”

“Please,” you gasp, threading a hand in his curls as he kisses the tender skin of your inner thigh. “Daddy, please. Want your mouth,” you whimper, moaning when his lips meet your slick skin. The pressure between your thighs is instant and familiar, mounting as Matty laps at your folds. He pulls off to bite at your thighs, scraping over his own fading bruises, faint pain tangling with pleasure under your overheated skin. His tongue is hungry as it fucks into you, his moans vibrating gloriously through you as you cling to the counter for dear life.

Your hips grind against his face, euphoria spiralling through you, stoking the fire low in your belly. “That’s it, princess. Gonna help Daddy get you off? My pretty little cockdrunk slut, need it all the time, right?” he murmurs, rubbing circles into your clit as he buries his tongue back into you. You can’t fucking think, everything in your brain drowned out by lips, tongue, teeth, Matty.

“Fuck, yes, Daddy, feels s’fucking good,” you whine, burying your hand in his curls and dragging him even closer, his tongue impossibly deep inside you as you clench around the muscle. Heat unspools in your belly, licking under your skin and setting your blood on fire, your hips rocking unbidden against his mouth. You cry out as Matty wraps his lips around your clit, pleasure-pain screaming from your still-sensitive nerves, all his attention focused on your swollen bud. “Oh, my God, oh, my God, oh, my God,” you gasp, pulse jackhammering between your thighs, so fast you’re scared it’ll set off dynamite in your chest.

“Yeah?” Matty smirks up at you, his lips and chin soaked in your arousal. You’re close, embarrassingly so, his tongue sloppy and greedy as he devours your cunt. His quiet moans into your cunt are intensely gratifying, amplifying the ecstasy kicking wildly under your skin. “God, you’re so pretty fallin’ apart like this. Could live between these pretty thighs, princess.” In response, you tighten them around his head, savouring his little gasp as his tongue returns to your cunt, licking over your hole with fervour. Your eyes roll back in your head, swimming dizzily in ecstasy, your cunt throbbing with need.

Your entire body is tense, muscles clenched and expectant as Matty tongue-fucks you within an inch of your life. “M’so close, Daddy, wanna cum,” you whimper, chasing the pleasure that coils tight around your veins, your vision blurring as euphoria chokes you.

Matty circles his fingers over your clit, his callouses scraping deliciously over your tender skin. “Cum for me whenever you’re ready, princess. Wanna feel you fallin’ apart on my tongue. Sweetest fuckin’ girl in the world,” he murmurs, pulling your clit into his mouth and sucking hard, a scream tearing free from your throat. Molten desire pools in your belly, your body humming with energy begging to be released. “Come on, darling, let me hear you. Give me everything you’ve got,” he moans, your cunt dripping on his tongue.

“Oh, fuck, m’cumming, Daddy, fuck! Oh, God, feels s’good, fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whimper, pure pleasure breaking you wide open, your vision whiting out as Matty’s tongue curls deep inside of you. You throb around him, every muscle in your body suddenly jelly, his hands on your thighs the only thing anchoring you to reality. Matty gets to his feet with a smirk, wordlessly prising your jaw open and sliding his wet fingers into your mouth.

You wrap your fingers around his tongue, sucking and licking the taste of you off his skin and moaning softly. “Good girl. You look so fucking gorgeous when you cum, princess.” He catches your lips in a messy kiss, your slick on his tongue as it sweeps your mouth, his hands finding your hips and pulling you close. “You up for a little day out, angel? Wanna show off my pretty girl, make everyone jealous of me.”

You giggle. “I told you. Anything you want. If you want to bend me over and show the entire fucking world who I belong to, I’ll drop my panties right then and there, promise.”

Matty’s jaw clenches, nails digging into your hips. “Don’t want anyone else seeing you like that, ever,” he growls. “C’mon, princess, go and get dressed. Got a busy day planned,” he grins.

“When did you have time to plan a day out?” you scoff, hopping to your feet and heading back up the stairs.

“Wanted to take you out and ask you to be my girlfriend, but that part got wrecked. I still wanna spoil you, baby.” He wraps an arm around your waist and presses a kiss into your hair.

You melt into his touch, leaning into him with a soft, private smile. “You’re too sweet,” you say, pulling away from him to step into your discarded underwear and jeans, turning to rifle through his drawers. After a few moments, you find what you were looking for, a shirt that must be a remnant of some distant, misspent youth; so small it’s almost your size, and it must have been cropped short on him because it barely brushes the hem of your jeans. “Did you actually wear this?” you laugh, turning this way and that as you admire how surprisingly well the shirt flatters you.

Matty laughs. “Told you, I was in a band in my twenties. Made some questionable fashion choices, but I made it work.”

Your eyes light up. “You have to show me. Please, I have got to see what you looked like when you fit into this,” you plead, and he scoffs.

“Nah. Looks better on you, anyway,” he says, sliding a pair of sunglasses over your eyes and kissing your cheek, brushing a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “Have you got a jacket? It’s fucking cold, for June,” he comments, a poor attempt at sounding casual.

It’s not that cold, and he knows damn well you don’t have a jacket. “Hmm, nope.” You pop the ‘p’ obnoxiously. “Guess I’ll have to borrow one of yours,” you say airily, as if that wasn’t his obvious fucking game all along. He slides a leather jacket over your shoulders, well-worn and smelling like him, and your reflection stops you dead. You look fucking hot. You look like a rich man’s scandalously young girlfriend, the graceful lines of him slotting perfectly into the picture. You snap a sweet photo of the two of you as he kisses your temple, and you giggle up at him.

“God, never gonna get over how gorgeous you look wearin’ my clothes, darling,” he murmurs, giving your ass a little smack and hurrying you into the car. His hand is familiar on your thigh as he drives, the warmth of his touch soaking into your skin and fizzing up in your chest. He presses kisses to your cheek at every red light, his gaze adoring every time it lands on you.

You share a lazy, light breakfast, trading kisses over pastries and coffee; yours heaped with cream and sugar and his bitter and black. Matty listens as you explain your friends’ petty little dramas, nodding or frowning at all the right moments but wise enough not to weigh in. He presses you against the car when you leave, digging one hand into your hair and the other into your waist and kissing the sugary-almond taste out of your mouth. “Pretty girl,” he praises, smiling as you flush. 

“Sweet boy,” you murmur, kissing his nose as he pulls back and opens the passenger-side door for you. “Such a gentleman,” you giggle, sliding into your seat. You fiddle with the radio, turning to him expectantly when the car stays in park. “Thought you had the whole day planned out?”

“I do,” he grins. “Just waitin’ for you to tell me where you like to shop, angel.” 

You smile, rattling off a list that comes as easily as breathing. “Are you gonna take me shopping?” you giggle as the engine purrs to life. “Won’t you get bored?”

“Nah,” he shrugs, reversing out of the car park. “I’ll be like the male lead in a romcom, carrying all your bags and following you like a lost puppy. It’ll be well funny,” he chuckles, and you can’t help but laugh, the image of him laden with shopping he’s paying for and wandering around a boutique looking slightly mystified frankly adorable.

“You’d make a good movie star. Just about pretty enough.” Matty gives an offended scoff and lights a cigarette, sulkily facing away from you as he takes a drag. An old favourite song crackles through the radio and you sing along, uninhibited and happy and maybe even a little in love.

Matty smiles at you indulgently as you start flipping through clothing racks, running your fingers through the fabric and musing which pieces already in your closet they’d pair well with. You pull out a pretty little summer dress, white and lacy with pink florals, and hold it up without looking at the price tag. “What do you think?” you grin, watching him picture you wearing it with a sleazy smile.

“If you want it, it’s yours,” he shrugs. “Go wild, princess.” Not one to look a gift horse, you take him at his word, draping the dress over your arm and fluttering off to flip through the skirts. A scandalously short leather mini catches your eye, and you hold it against your hips thoughtfully.

Matty’s jaw tightens unsubtly. “Oh, don’t be such a boy,” you tease. “I’ll model it for you later,” you add with a grin, and his hands fly to your waist and pull you in.

“Please don’t get me all worked up, sweetheart,” he pleads against your lips. “Don’t wanna have to cut this short because I had to bring you home and take what I need from you, do you?”

Your insides melt into liquid and you flush, heat slick under your skin. “Tempting,” you smirk. “Later tonight?”

His eyes darken, sparkling with allure. “I’m counting the minutes,” he murmurs against your lips, taking an inappropriately greedy handful of your ass and pressing his lips against yours.

Your knees go weak when Matty licks into your mouth, his tongue hedonistic and clever and sure. You indulge yourself in his kiss for a few moments, his body pressing against yours as he threads a hand into your hair. “Mmh, stop trying to distract me,” you say, voice slightly rough with desire. “I’m gonna bleed you dry, darling.”

Matty grins. “Do your worst, angel.”

And you certainly try your fucking hardest, piling his arms high with blouses and dresses and skirts; lipsticks and powders and creams; pumps and heels and sandals. When Matty starts dragging his feet, you take pity on him and pull him into the lingerie section, his jaw going slightly slack as he stares around; he looks vaguely guilty, like he’s been caught somewhere he shouldn’t.

You pluck a delicate, white corset off the rack, holding it up musingly. “How about this? Might be cute with one of those skirts?” Matty swallows thickly, clearly stuck for words that won’t get the pair of you banned from the store and maybe arrested for lewd behaviour.

“I like it.” He clears his throat. “A lot.”

You grin mischievously. “I have an idea, Daddy,” you murmur, the word a delicious taboo as it slips from your lips, scandalously inappropriate on the wide-open shop floor. “Should get yourself some presents, too. Pick some stuff out for me?”

A filthy smirk splits his face, and you shiver, a thrill running up your spine. Matty, it turns out, has extremely discerning tastes, at least when it comes to lingerie. Everything he chooses is carefully considered, holding the lace against your skin to consider the colour, the shape, the cut of the piece and how it’ll sit on your body. You end up heaped with a pile of bras and panties, corsets and teddies, babydoll dresses and chemises, slightly dizzy at the thought of dressing up in them for him.

“Think that’s more than enough to keep us both happy, don’t you, princess?” he grins, leading you to the counter. It takes aeons to get you rung up, and you feel a little faint at the sight of the total; it’s more than five thousand pounds. Matty doesn’t even look fazed, though, kissing you softly and swiping his card like it’s nothing. It’s maybe a little embarrassing, but you feel a faint tingle of arousal at him taking such a massive sum in stride.

You drape yourself across him as he loads your bags into the car, pressing grateful kisses anywhere you can reach. “Thank you, Daddy. Too good to me. Tell me how I can make it up to you.”

Matty smiles, wide and warm and so fucking sweet you can taste the honey dripping from his mouth. “Don’t need to, angel. Just let me spoil you. Like seein’ you happy after I was such a little bitch before. M’sorry, sweet girl.”

You laugh as you slide into the car beside him. “I’ve accepted worse apologies for worse things from far worse men. I think we’re more than even now.” You run your hand over his thigh, cupping his cock with a smirk. “How about I put on a little fashion show for you when we get back? Call it even when I can’t even remember my own name?”

He grins. “You are filthy,” he says delightedly, throwing on a burst of speed that pins you against the seat, suddenly desperate to get the pair of you into a bedroom. 

Matty’s mouth is ravenous on yours as soon as you’re alone, dropping the bags to grip your waist hungrily and pull you flush against him. “Mmh, hold on,” you say, breaking away regretfully. “Don’t you wanna see me all dolled up for you, Daddy?”

Groaning, Matty slides his hands down to your waist, spanking you when you bend over to retrieve your bags. A pulse of wanton arousal throbs stickily between your legs, an involuntary moan rumbling from your lips. “Pretty little slut,” he mumbles approvingly. “Wanna get that pretty ass all red for me, god.”

“Yes, Daddy,” you murmur, straightening up and leaning back against him. “Anything you want.” He follows you up the stairs, making himself comfortable on the bed as you slip into the bathroom and change. You primp and preen, experimenting with lip swatches and sparkling eyeshadow, switching out your outfit until you’re satisfied. 

Matty is waiting on the bed when you slip back into the room. The sight of him, his legs spread wide and clad only in boxers with one hand lazily palming his cock through the fabric, is almost enough to make you abandon your plans. “D’you like the skirt now, Daddy?” you ask, pulling the waistband down to reveal the scrap of deep-red satin clinging to your waist.

“Mmm, I don’t know if I’m quite convinced yet, princess,” he teases. “Think you should show me what it looks like off.”

A heavy pulse of want wells between your thighs, and you grin. “Let me put on a little show for you, first.” You cue up a carefully-curated playlist, swaying your hips in time with the beat and slowly peeling off your shirt. Matty’s breath catches at the sight of you, groaning low in his throat, the sound going straight to your cunt.

Turning and bending over right on cue, you shake your ass, flashing your panties under the skirt; Matty moans outright. “So gorgeous, princess. Gettin’ me so fucking hard, god,” he groans, and as you turn to face him, you’re treated to the sight of him freeing his cock, slowly pumping it and watching you intently. Your skirt slides to the floor as Matty fucks into his fist, delicious, gasping little moans tumbling from his lips. “Fuck, c’mere, please,” he pleads, gaze fixed on you as you stalk to the edge of the bed.

“Wanna sample the merchandise, huh?” you tease, straddling his lap and grinding down on his cock. Matty’s hands come up to your tits, palming and squeezing greedily as your head falls forward to meet his lips. You let him grope you for a few long, delicious minutes, his hands finding your hips, your waist, your ass and digging in. Then, you hop off his lap, and Matty whines. “I’ve still got more stuff to try on,” you grin, slipping away and changing into a sheer-white babydoll with a matching thong.

Matty chokes on air at the sight of you, and you smile angelically, kneeling at the foot of the bed. “God, gonna drive me crazy, darling. Need to fuck you so bad,” he groans, his cock flushed red and dripping as it disappears into his fist.

You giggle. “M’glad you picked this one, Daddy. D’you wanna know what I thought when I saw it?” He nods, dazed and practically drooling. “I thought, ‘That’s what I wanna wear around the house when I’m bein’ a good little housewife for my Daddy,’” you murmur, and Matty has a physical reaction, shuddering as his eyes go wide, the fantasy playing clear as day on his face.

“Fuck, princess,” he groans. “Angel. Darling. Sweet girl. Come here. Let me fuck you, please,” he begs, hips shifting needily as he pumps his cock.

Draping yourself over his lap, you smile blithely up at him. “You promised to spank me, Daddy,” you pout, and Matty gives a filthy smirk, tracing his fingers over your panties as you shudder and squirm.

“Such a filthy little slut, god,” he murmurs. “This sweet little ass is gonna look so pretty covered in my handprints, baby. Gonna remind you who you belong to every time you sit down, yeah?”

Arousal swirls through your body, wanton need dripping from your neglected cunt. “Belong to you, Daddy. Your girl— ah!” you gasp as Matty’s hand comes down, meeting your ass harshly. A long, low moan pulls from your throat, sweet pain tangling with the burning need under your skin. “Yes, Daddy, fuck. Please, more,” you whimper, face pressed against the sheets as you sink deeper into glorious submission. Three more smacks come in quick succession, the flesh of your ass flaming under his touch.

Matty kneads your tender skin gently, soothing before he delivers another hit, the pain washing over you and coiling into thick, palpable pleasure under your skin. “Love this pretty ass so much, princess,” he praises.

“Want you to fuck me there, one day,” you say dreamily, so lost in desire-slick fantasies that you don’t even process the admission as it falls from your lips. “Wanna be yours. Every single hole,” you murmur, eyes lidded and voice rough with lust. Matty freezes, and you tense. God, was that a weird thing to say? Too early to admit it? Is he gonna think you’re actually a slut now?

A moan of pure, unfiltered lust falls from his mouth and your thighs clench, the fabric of your panties soaked and sticky between your thighs. “Fuck, you can’t say things like that, princess. Gonna make me fuckin’ cum before I’ve even fucked you,” he murmurs, voice low and raked over gravel, thick with lust. His fingers tease over your clit through your panties, and you arch up into his touch, whimpering.

“Then fuck me,” you plead. “Please, Daddy. Want you.” Matty grins, manhandling you until you’re laying on your front, pleasure tense in your belly as he slides your panties to the side. 

Your cunt clenches around nothing, gasping and pleading softly as the sheets dig into your cheek. “This okay, angel? Wanna watch the bruises come up on your pretty little ass.”

Lifting your hips, you shake your ass at him, a smirk pulling at your lips. “Gonna think about fucking it, Daddy?” He groans, the sound going straight to your core, slick cunt dripping as you press against him. “S’okay if you do. I have been. When I’m alone, when I want you, fucking myself on my fingers and thinkin’ about you stretching me out there. Would feel so fucking— Ohh,” you break into a moan as Matty enters you with no warning, meeting no resistance from your soaked cunt.

“So fucking wet for me, princess. So fucking filthy, playing with that needy cunt and thinkin’ about me fucking your ass, god,” he groans, dipping his head to kiss between your shoulder blades. A shudder runs through you, the stretch and burn between your thighs familiar, the ache soothing.

Your cunt throbs, thick pulses of arousal hammering in time with your racing heart. “Harder, Daddy, please,” you whine, arching your back. Dizzying lust envelops you, your head hazy and light, practically floating clear of your body. A shocked moan escapes you as Matty spanks you again, pain sinking into pleasure that coils tightly through your insides. 

“Don’t be greedy, darling,” he chides. “C’mon, lift your hips a little for Daddy, okay?” Unthinkingly, you obey, letting him puppeteer you, mould you into whatever shape he likes. “Good girl,” he murmurs, sliding a pillow under your hips. You glow at the praise, nails scraping the sheets when he fucks deep into you, the change in angle sending waves of pleasure spilling over you.

“Ngh, Daddy, fuck,” you whimper, your words coming out garbled where your face presses into the sheets. Incoherent moans of please and fuck and I need and Daddy stumble from your lips, your body melting into a pleasure-soaked haze as Matty fucks deep into you.

Your hips meet obscenely, lewd sounds filling the room as your world narrows down to the four walls, aware of nothing but him. “That’s it, princess. Let it all out, let Daddy hear those pretty noises, yeah? Nobody else gets to hear you like this, right?” he coos, pinching your clit and moaning softly as your cunt clenches around him reflexively.

“N-no,” you promise shakily, struggling to pull the words to the forefront of your mind, delirious with pleasure. “Only you, Daddy. Only one who can fuck me like this. So fucking good.” You choke on a gasp, Matty’s hips meeting yours over and over, your vision swimming, your body set adrift in an ocean of sheer ecstasy. 

“Such a sweet girl,” Matty murmurs, teasing your clit as you whine powerlessly. Seemingly just for the fun of it, he slaps your ass again, the sweet sting tearing you open. Pleasure rushes through you, cradling your very organs, stoking a fire that chars your bones. “God, I love your pretty ass, darling. Can’t wait to fuck this tight little hole.” His words sink into your skin, wrapping tight around your sore muscles, ecstasy coiling in your veins. With what feels like a monumental effort, you rock your hips up towards him, Matty impossibly deep inside you.

The tip of his cock brushes that perfect spot inside you, sending a bright jolt of pure euphoria fizzing up your spine. A keening wail falls from your lips, a loud, uninhibited sound of undiluted pleasure. “Gettin’ close, angel? Wanna cum for your Daddy?” You nod wildly, indistinct, stifled pleas tumbling from your lips like prayers. “Go on, princess, cum for me. Cum all over my fuckin’ cock, make me cum.” In that same obedient, thoughtless way, you do. You choke and whimper and whine, drool pooling in your mouth and dripping out against the sheets as you moan the only word you know: Daddy. Euphoria burns white-hot under your skin, melting your organs until your body is made of liquid desire, messily strung together by flimsy ligaments. Matty’s touch is the only thing anchoring you to reality, your head still hazy as you drift back to Earth.

Matty’s pace is erratic, frenzied and wild and hot as your cunt pulses with aftershocks. “Cum on me,” you beg. “On my cunt, on my tits, on my face, I don't care. Just wanna see it, wanna feel it, want you to mark me, make me yours,” you plead, and Matty groans. He gives your ass one more swift smack for good measure and flips you over, your bruised skin screaming in protest as it presses into the sheets. Three quick passes of his fist over his cock and he’s cumming, white ropes splashing across your belly and up to your tits, painting your skin in a filthy, lurid display. “Thank you, Daddy,” you murmur as he breathes heavily above you. “Love bein’ your little cumdump.”

His head tips back, a disbelieving laugh bubbling free. “Such a good, sweet, pretty girl with such a filthy mouth, princess. So fuckin’ hot.” You smile proudly, dragging your fingers through his mess and sucking the taste of him off them. Matty’s eyes go wide, his head falling to lap at the skin between your tits, kissing and sucking ravenously at them. He makes his way up and presses his lips to yours, the taste of him smearing between your mouths, the kiss a filthy thing, alive with desire. “You’re beautiful,” he mumbles, hushed like he isn’t even aware of the words, and you flush.

“So are you,” you smile as he falls next to you, gazing adoringly into your eyes as your chests heave.

“We should get cleaned up,” he says with a weak chuckle, and you mumble an affirmative without even pretending to move. “Just a minute, princess, then I’ll get you cleaned up, cook us some dinner, yeah?” he promises, kissing you gently as your eyes flutter closed. Of course, the pair of you wake an hour or so later, dried cum on your belly and crusting into your brand-new lingerie, your thighs uncomfortably wet and sticking. Matty carries you into the bath, takes gentle care of you, the promised meal waiting when you pull yourself out of the now-lukewarm water. Pillar candles glow atop the dining table, the light sparkling off your wine glasses, and your heart melts.

It doesn’t take long for you to fall deeply, irrevocably in love with him; every passing day reveals something new to adore. The words spring to your lips at any and all moments, both opportune and not, and it starts to become a real struggle to swallow them back down. You don’t want to be too much, too soon, and truthfully you’re scared of what his answer will be, and even more so of how you’ll react.

Your private-not-secret relationship is your so-called friends’ favourite topic of discussion, so much so that you’re afraid it’ll get back to your parents before you’re ready for them to know. You try to keep them happy with minor tidbits, throw them off with misdirections (yes, he’s older; no, I won’t tell you by how much; no, my parents don’t know him), but their endless reserves of intrusion are starting to wear you down. Thea is your only confidante, the only one besides Matty himself who knows the ins and outs, and you’re fucking dying for someone new to brag and gush to. So when Matty texts you one day in mid-August, asking if you want to meet his friends, you jump at the chance.

My friends are absolutely desperate to meet you, by the way

Insist they have to meet this girl I won’t shut up about

I’ve been told to tell you Emerald Hill at 10pm on Saturday, and not to take no for an answer

If that tells you what kind of a bunch they are, fair warning

i’d love to :)

come pick me up at 8? then we’ll have time to get presentable before we have to go ;)

By the time Saturday rolls around, you’re practically fizzing with excitement, much to your parents’ suspicion — they’ve been sceptical all summer of how happy you’ve been, curious glances and pursed lips every time you so much as smile at your phone. The excitement has turned to nerves as you’re leaving Matty’s, though, roiling in your gut as you obsess over every detail that could go wrong. Matty wraps comforting arms around your waist from behind, kissing the top of your head and holding you close, the thump of his heartbeat at your back soothing. “Stop worryin’ so much, love. S’gonna be fine, okay?” He gives a boyish little grin as he opens the car for you. “Can’t wait for you to meet my boys. All my favourite people in one place,” he says, and you smile softly, that warm, fizzing affection you don’t want to give a name to creeping up your chest.

Matty lets you choose the music as you drive, shaking his head every time you queue up another glitter-gel-pen pop song. He takes your hand and leads you into the bar, a classy little place tucked into a street corner, his eyes lighting up as he catches sight of whoever you’re here to meet, swallowed into a bear hug by a tall blond when he reaches the table.

“Ah, mate, it’s been too long,” the other man says, pulling back and offering you a hand. “George.”

You look up into his face and your jaw drops. The hot DJ from that fateful night at 102 grins down at you, and your eyes widen as you try to take back your composure. Swallowing your tongue, you smile and give your name, taking a seat as Matty pulls a chair out for you. Just as you’re getting over that shock, you lock eyes with Charli and she smirks back at you.

“Sunshine Baby!” she exclaims. “Fancy seeing you here.”

You laugh, the tension in your shoulders loosening at the merest semblance of familiarity. “How do you remember that?” you laugh disbelievingly.

“Wait, you two know each other?” Matty interrupts.

Charli shrugs. “Sort of. Sunshine over here racked up a three hundred quid tab and tipped me a hundred on top. Don’t forget that in a hurry.”

You cover your face in embarrassment. “That makes me sound like an alcoholic,” you groan. “Your fault, by the way.” You poke Matty’s shoulder affectionately. “I was mad at you, practically fucking bought out the bar about it. Entire place got a free drink off me.”

“I like her,” another member of the group chimes in with a laugh. You look up to meet the eyes of the speaker, and– Jesus. One group of friends shouldn’t be allowed to have this many hot people in it. “Ross,” he says, and you smile politely. The last member of the party introduces himself as Adam, and you greet him with a smile, letting yourself get absorbed into rapid conversation and raucous laughter. “Right,” Ross interrupts. “Matty — you’re picking up the tab,” he declares. “Oh, don’t make that face,” he says as Matty scoffs. “Amount you drink, I’m not paying it on a teacher’s salary.”

You giggle. “Aw, give him a break. These days, I’m spending his money faster than he can make it,” you joke, and Charli cackles. You’re pleasantly tipsy, the alcohol loosening your lips and lifting the weight of anxiety in your chest, conversation flowing between you as easily as the wine in your glass. You cling to Matty as you leave, waving cheerful goodbyes and promising to text Charli to arrange a girls’ night.

“I’m gonna regret introducing you two, aren’t I?” Matty sighs, pulling you in close against the unseasonably cold wind, the warmth of his body soothing.

“No,” you giggle. “I love her. Wish I had friends like yours,” you say, wistful and slightly self-pitying as you slide into the car.

Matty cups your cheek, leaning in across the console to press a tender, loving kiss against your lips. “I’m sorry, baby. But you have me. Always gonna have me, yeah?”

Your heart flutters, those three little words rising in your throat once again. “I guess you’re a pretty good consolation prize,” you tease, pushing down the frightening intimacy of the moment with levity.

“Alright, alright,” he chuckles. “Wanna come back with me? Or do you want me to drop you home?”

You scoff. “Is that even a question?”

The rest of your summer passes quickly, too quickly. You spend more time at Matty’s house than home, more and more of your things finding their place there as time passes. You start going to visit him at work without any other justification, every step nerve-wracking as your father’s presence looms. You have one unbelievably close call when he’s in the lobby as you’re leaving, frantically slamming the door close button in the lift before he can turn and spot you. Ruby stays just as hostile, seething at you and muttering warnings that Matty’ll be bored soon every time you pass her by. You take a petty, savage pleasure in tormenting her, just a little, deliberately pulling Matty in for long, filthy kisses as you open his office door.

By the time you can’t put off going back to uni any longer, there’s barely any point in you being home at all. Naturally, Matty offers to be the one to drive you up, and you seize the opportunity to be alone with him for the last time in however fucking long. Your father is privately relieved not to be the one to have to, you can tell, accepting your explanation that Thea’s just passed her test and she’s offered to drive me. You don’t mind, do you? without question. Shows how much he knows; Thea’s failed her practical six times and counting.

When you arrive, Matty insists that you don’t lift a finger, carrying all of your boxes upstairs and giving you something to ogle in the process. You’re the last one back, your housemates smirking at you and nudging each other at the sight of him, fourteen years your senior with grey in his hair, kissing you filthy and unashamed in plain view. Later, you mouth behind his back, their answering giggles reminding you that you do have good friends, after all.

Matty looks devastatingly gorgeous in the late-autumn sunset, leaning against his car with a cigarette dangling from his lips. You snatch it with a smirk, stretching up to peck his lips and taking a deep drag. His smile melts you into goo, your heart hammering so fast it might smash free of your ribcage. If you don’t say it now, you’ll lose your nerve.

“I love you,” you rush out, muffled against his chest as he holds you, arms cradling your body tight and warm and safe. “You don’t have to say it back, I just… I do, and I want you to know.” 

Matty pulls back to look at you, eyes soft with affection and adoration and maybe even something deeper. “Do you know how long I’ve been waitin’ to hear you say that, princess? God, I love you. I love you so fuckin’ much,” he groans, his hands at your waist the only thing keeping you upright as your knees go weak. “Think I might die, havin’ to be without you these next few weeks.” You giggle, giddy with infatuation and devotion and… God, you can just say love, now. “I’ll be back soon, don’t worry. Could never stay away from you.”

[soleurs]

▎    BAD IDEA, RIGHT?

concept yeah.. maybe, not really ・ gender netural reader + word count 494 genre fluff .. established relationship warnings mentions of : cuddling .. suggestive thoughts .. kissing — cred. to byhees for the cute layout

napping with roronoa zoro is a bad idea. in fact, it’s the worst scenario to end up in.

with sturdy arms that have been bronzed by years of honing his undeniable talent, he’ll weave one around your waist. as for the other? well, that’s probably fallen asleep too after hours of resting beneath your head.

(like arm, like owner—you humorously suppose.)

initially, you’ll whittle down time by staring at your dozing swordsman. out of all the looks you’ve witnessed him sporting in the past and present, you’ll definitely be confident in claiming tranquility’s his best. but as much as you want to continue staring at the living art, streaks of marigold and azure are beginning to blend beyond the broad horizon.

and here is where the catch begins.

silly you will think that escaping his grasp will be easy. after all, he sleeps like a log being carried by the ocean’s little waves. all you need to do is squirm a little, perhaps sprinkle a few kisses upon his calloused palms to warm him up a little. oh look at that, zoro’s eased his hold.

now that you’re on your feet, it’s best you go—

“come back to bed.”

the rich, raspiness of his voice echoes in your ear, accompanied by his gentle tug that puts you back where you began: wrapped up in his embrace. what a shame, you had managed to walk a few more centimeters away this time. (your previous record stood so weakly at eleven centimeters.)

“clover, we need to get up..” you try to convince him, but how can you do that when he’s tracing kisses across the crook of your neck? “..then they’re gonna make assumptions, and that’s a whole other mess i can’t handle on an empty stomach.”

this is where your suspicion arises.

there’s no more warm breath fanning across the spanse of your skin, or even a non-committal hum that merely ripples from the top of his chest. in fact, you can’t even hear the little snores he tends to make in between the steady thrums of his heartbeat.

you just never seem to learn, which is why it’s so easy for zoro to move you until you’re facing each other. (an impressive feat that’s taken at least five times to perfect; you fondly call it the hammroll. and while he calls it silly, he secretly likes the name of this special move. makes it feel like it belongs to only you and him.) the warmth you were looking for earlier? it’s right there, skimming your face as he leans in to kiss you. 

but he won’t be satisfied with just one. no, before he dives in for another, he’ll make sure you hear him whisper, “let them guess. i’ll still have you with me afterwards.”

it's not such a bad idea, right?

daylight I'M ALIVE !!!!! is what i wanna say but my mental health's been going loop-de-loop so cue the awkward laughter- to the anon who requested this, thank you for taking a chance on me ♡ 

[waitingonher]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ korra and her love languages

i. korra whose love language is physical touch. korra whose love language is physical touch because she finds solace in the warmth of your touch. 

if she could, korra would spend the rest of her life like this, with you nestled in her arms as the sun rises to paint republic city in hues of oranges and pinks. there’s nothing like waking up to a beautiful girl next to a beautiful sunrise. korra lays there silently, playing with a strand of your hair. 

in about an hour, she has to carry the weight of the avatar, but right now in this quiet corner of the world, korra wants nothing more than to just be ‘(y/n)’s girlfriend.’ and so she does. 

her eyes roam over your figure, drinking it all in. how did i get so lucky? from your cascading hair, to your plump lips, to your soft hands that just seem to flawlessy fit in her own, korra never knew it was possible to be this perfect. all her life people have only seen her as just the avatar, but you were the first to see her as just korra. you were the first to treat her as if she wasn’t some expendable end all be all to the world's problems. 

“(y/n),” korra starts, the back of her hand grazing your cheek. her voice is barely above a whisper, “i know i don’t say it as much as i should, but you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. i love you so much and i-”

beep. beep. beep.

“stupid alarm.” she mutters, reaching to shut it off.  

with a soft groan, your eyes flutter open slowly, the warmth of korra's touch lingering on your skin. as consciousness filters in, you feel the strong arms of your girlfriend pulling you close. 

“good morning, baby,” she whispers, placing gentle kisses on your forehead. 

with a contented sigh, you gaze up at korra, smoothing out her tousled hair, “mm, good morning.” 

she chuckles at your groggy voice before placing a final kiss on your crown. making efforts to rise from her position, she untangles herself from the bedsheets, “i’ll get the tea going. we’ve got a busy day ahead of us,” she sighs. 

“korra,” you draw out her name. reaching for her arm, you gently tug on the sleeve of her pajamas, a silent plea for her to stay, “please my love, stay. ten more minutes?” 

you flash her your signature puppydog eyes, your lips pulled downwards, eyes widened. and as easily as that, korra’s resolve falters. how can she say no to you? especially when you look so beautiful, your tired eyes looking up at her so sweetly and your open arms inviting her back to the comfort of your touch. 

“well…” she gives you that saccharine smile you’ve always been fond of, and that’s when you know you’ve got her, “i guess the world can wait another hour for their avatar.” 

and she climbs back into bed.

ii. korra whose love language is quality time. korra whose love language is quality time because amongst all of her avatar duties, she'll always want to come home to you.

the arctic hen sizzles beautifully on the pan as you take in the fragrant aroma of the kitchen. it’s savory from the arctic hen, yet delicately sweet from the cookies in the oven. you dance around, tending to the sea prune stew and seaweed stir fry. checking the clock, it reads 6:46pm, serving as a gentle reminder of korra’s anticipated return by 7:00pm. 

everything is perfect. 

after all, it is korra’s birthday. it has to be perfect. 

you begin plating everything, attempting to replicate the elegant plating from a mover that you had watched over the weekend. a little smear of sauce. some accent dots. and finally…seaweed flakes for garnish. clapping your hands together, you take a step back from the dining room table, admiring your hard work. as if on cue, you hear the front door slide open. 

“babe, i’m home! wow it smells really go-”

“happy birthday, my love!" you exclaim, catching korra off guard as you dash over and envelop her in a tight embrace. stepping back slightly, you tenderly sweep a stray lock of hair behind her ear, your eyes overflowing with affection. leaning in once more, you share a deep, heartfelt kiss, your whispered words carrying the weight of your emotions. "i love you so much, korra.”

she swears she’ll never get used to you doing that, her rapid heartbeat a testament to that. korra chuckles, her hands finding purchase on your waist, “i love you too. now, what smells so good?” 

her gaze wanders the kitchen, taking in the familiar sights, as you gently grasp her hands, guiding her toward the dining room. as korra enters, a gasp escapes her lips, and she feels a rush of emotion at the sight before her. the table is adorned with an array of dishes, each one a cherished memory from her childhood, meticulously prepared with love.

with a sheepish smile, you guide her to the two wooden chairs at the table, “now i know it’s not a lot. but i asked your mom for the recipes so i hope you like-”

korra shuts you up with a kiss. her hands again find their way to your hips, holding you. and by the look in her eyes, you know that she's been needing this. korra knows she’s never exactly been the best with words, so she hopes you understand what she’s trying to say, “(y/n), it’s perfect.” 

you lean into her side, a sigh of relief escaping you, “oh good, i was so worried you’d hate it.” 

your girlfriend turns to you, an expression of disbelief painted on her face, “what? babe, i’d love it even if you were a bad cook.” 

“what about the time i burned the seal jerky?”

“okay maybe that’s the exception. how do you even burn jerky?” 

“hey! you were distracting me!”

iii. korra whose love language is acts of service. korra whose love language is acts of service because when she’s not out there saving the world, she’s making sure her baby is taken care of. 

if there were a competition for the worst worst day ever, today’s events would take the cake. first, you and korra totally overslept, thus causing you to be late to your crucial work meeting. after a solid ten minutes of your boss’s scolding, of course, your coworker just had to call out sick, and just like that, you had to complete his portion of the work project. oh and for the cherry on top, your favorite lunch spot was inexplicably closed. 

today was not your day, you conclude. 

with a heavy heart, you trudge homeward, with nothing but your bothersome chores in mind. fold the laundry, dust the shelves, reorganize the desk…each task more dismaying than the last.

unlocking the front door, your ears are met with the quiet melody of an upbeat jazz tune. that’s strange. there’s never really music playing unless you’re home. then you’re greeted by naga, her gargantuan head nuzzling your side. and it’s even stranger, usually korra’s the first to welcome you home, “naga,” you stroke the top of her head, white fur as fluffy as always, “where’s korra?” 

the polar bear dog offers you a hushed bark as her nose points you to your shared bedroom, “thanks girl.” 

you find the door closed, the music resonating softly from the room. as the door swings open, you’re met with korra precariously balancing on her tippytoes, diligently dusting the shelves. the rest of the room seems to be spotless, the laundry basket empty and your desk absolutely pristine. 

“korra?”

at the sound of your voice, your girlfriend whirls around, almost surprised, “(y/n)! hi! you’re home early.” 

you chuckle, her crooked smile on display, “yeah, i spilled stew on my pants so i got to go home,” you gesture to the brown stain on your thigh, “but wait, wasn’t i supposed to do all of this? you only had to do the dishes and clean the bathrooms.”

“yeah, i know,” she lilts. korra’s grin widens as she hops down from the wooden stool, meeting you where you stand. her hands come up to rest on your waist and she plants a sweet kiss on your lips, “but i did them all anyways.” 

your astonishment quickly melts into gratitude. maybe today isn’t as bad as you had thought, “but…but when did you even have the time? didn’t you have to meet with the city council?” 

korra nods, savoring your reaction, “mhm, but they cancelled, so i came home and got a head start on everything. and plus, i wanted you to come home and not have to do anything for once. i know how much stress your work has been putting on you recently.” 

as you stand there, taking in the scene before you, another wave of gratitude washes over you. tears begin to well in your eyes, a floodgate opened by the weight of the day's trials and tribulations, mingling with a profound sense of appreciation for your girlfriend. korra knows all too well what you’re feeling—what it's like when the dam breaks. once more, she pulls you into her tight embrace, sturdy arms enclosing your waist.

“i’m sorry,” you begin, attempting to hold your tears back. korra gives you a sympathetic smile, “i’m happy, i promise. it’s just…everything today was such a big mess. so, thank you.” 

“it’s no biggie, babe,” korra states, her hands gingerly wiping away your tears. she places a soft kiss on each tear stained cheek before taking hold of your hand, leading you out to the living room, “bolin’s new mover is out. wanna give it a watch?” 

[v3nusxsky]

Hi! Request from prompt list 🔥17

Dom Emily Prentiss x sub reader with overstimulation kink

Thanks :)

You can take it baby 18+

*Authors note~ 3 days into a particularly stressful placement and of course I want Emily Prentiss in completely normal ways right now. Full confession this was meant to be posted last week but I had the week from hell. I apologise guys*

Trigger warnings~ dom Emily, sub r overstimulation kink sub space mommy kink fingering oral strap on referenced as the real deal praise degrading humiliation kink spanking edging oral fixation aftercare hinted at threesome

Prompt~ see ask^^^

————————————————————————

Really, it was amusing that you sat here pouting at a situation you had walked straight into. Willingly. All day you had been bratty, distracted and just plain disobedient to Emily and that was something she would never accept from you. As her wife, you knew damn well what you’d done and yet you still had the audacity to sit here squirming, despite the command to kneel and remain still. However, your wife was no stranger to recognising the cues of what you needed, perks of living and working together. Well and she is a profiler while you are just a technical assistant.

On the rare chance that no psychopathic serial killers were out on the hunt, the team stayed home bound and worked on paperwork that was so long since needing to be attended to. That was the soul reason you’d been able to achieve such a great result in annoying your lover with your behaviour. The instructions had been simple, go and strip bare, move so your nose is touching the wall and your knelt on your knees with your palms resting comfortably upon the tops of them.

Timeouts are something you hate, especially after you’d been edged on the drive home. All you wanted was her and that was something you knew you’d have to earn forgiveness before you could even think about having. You’d lost count how long she left you alone in the room, thighs coated in your need, craving the raven haired woman’s presence. You’ve always been told to be carful what you wish for, never understanding fully the meaning. Until now.

Ending up over your shared bed with Emily behind you was definitely not the attention you wanted. But it’s what you got. Her hand coming down against the soft globes of your ass and the backs of your thighs as she forced you to count and thank her for every hit. “Such a little slut, just needed mommy to give you a good spanking didn’t you baby?” She would taunt as an obnoxiously loud mewl slipped past your lips at the delicious sting her palm left behind. “Oh, you really are a little whore , wonder what the team would think? Their little mini PG over my bed whimpering like a bitch. Do you like it when mommy hits you baby?” You never confirmed it, you didn’t need to, the fact your enjoyment was dripping down your thighs told her everything she needed to know.

By the twentieth spank you no longer felt the same pleasure in the sting, your voice wavering as you counted for the woman. “Surely a slut like you can take ten more, right? Or are we not even capable of doing something so simple for mommy?” Her words only motivating you to take more. The brat in you simmering down into her pliant little girl. “I can mommy! I can please! Wanna be good” you whimpered causing the last ten wacks to be laid down on your ass faster than the speed of light.

You didn’t even have a breath to dry your falling tears before Emily’s slender fingers trailed down to the apex of your thighs, fingers playing with the copious amounts of slick that took residence there. “That wasn’t enough for my little whore was it? I think you need more, what do you think?” She murmured as if you were just discussing what to have for dinner. “No please mommy I’ll be good now, I swear!” you whined trying to squirm out of her hold despite there being no where to run. “Oh you poor girl” she cooed with her words dripping in faux sympathy, “You are mommy’s bitch to play with so why would I take orders from you? Remember your place little girl” she growled into your ear leaning down to grab your hair and roughly manhandle you into her desired position. “There’s so much fight here, a pretty slut like you doesn’t need it. Let mommy do all the thinking, just lay there and look pretty for me. Can you do that? No, you will do that or I won’t be as kind with my next move. You didn’t like that last time did you sweetheart?”

Last time flashed between your eyes as you remembered being left with your thighs covered in your sticky need for days on end, Emily refusing to touch you, no touching yourself and most definitely not allowing any of the potential friends into the bedroom touch you either. Your mama would’ve given into your crocodile tears and whimpered pleads too easily for Emily’s liking. But that didn’t mean that JJ wasn’t clued up on why you tried to hang around her more at work, subtly pleading with her to have her way with you, in fact the whole of the BAU had gathered you were very much on a punishment as time trickled on. “No mommy! Please! No don’t want that” you cried hoping to avoid the situation.

“The behave” she snapped back at you before yanking your legs apart and settling between them. Her lips trailing all over your exposed skin, nipping, biting and marking every inch of it from your neck to thighs. You could’ve sobbed in relief as she took your rock hard clit into her lips, allowing you some form of relief. “M-mommy” you choked out in between mewls of pleasure. Emily was always so skilled in every aspect of the bedroom but you often told her how this was your favourite way to let her take you. And when she added two fingers into your weeping hole as her tongue focused all its attention on your clit you swore you were ready to see stars. Until you didn’t.

“Mommy!” You sobbed in poor frustration at being edged once again. You really couldn’t think of anything but her. You’re cunt being sensitive and in dire need of some relief, clenching around thin air causing her to smirk at your pathetic state. “Pathetic. Can’t even handle a simple edging. Why should mommy give you and your pathetic pussy my cock hm? Do you deserve something so special?” Her teasing triggered a string of incoherent begging and pleading for her to take you with her cock that you knew was attached between her legs from the moment she’d had you knelt on the floor.

Knowing and seeing however are two very different things, seeing her cock was definitely better than just knowing it was there. In fact, you were practically drooling at the sight. “The sight of Mommys dick really does just turn you into a mindless bitch in heat doesn’t it my love? Oh my girl do you want it in your mouth? Say please, beg me” she murmured as she now approached you bare apart from her not so little hard friend. “Mmm please mommy, I want it” you whimpered, eyes never leaving the woman’s new appendage. It’s a deep maroon colour, that just so happens to be one of your favourite colours on the woman. And naturally Emily just had to buy one for her sweet girl.

“Open slut” she demanded looking down at your blown wide pupils with a smirk plastered on her lips. You instantly did as she asked of you and was rewarded with her veiny cum filled cock in your mouth. Your gags were music to the profilers ears, so much that she would pull out and forcefully thrust back in testing your gag reflex. Tears again now flowed freely as you did your best to take her abuse on your throat. Emily couldn’t lie, seeing you on your knees, her cock in your mouth was enough to have her on the edge with a simple look but that’s not what she wants tonight so she unhappily pulls her shaft from your now puffy and abused lips.

Simply deciding you’d slipped deep enough now she threw your plaint body on the bed and positioned you to be on your hands and knees, spread apart and ready for the taking. And taking you she would be. You couldn’t help but sigh happily as the tip of her cock teased the wetness all over your glistening folds. Those sighs soon turned into a gasp as she thrusted herself into your warm awaiting hole, stretching your soaking walls to accommodate her sheer size. “Mommy hurts” you whimpered adjusting to the stings and burns she’d created until they faded into blissful pleasure. “Oh, poor baby” she cooed not bothering to slow her pace or shorten her thrusts. The woman may as well have been a wild animal with how she was pounding your oversensitive pussy. Any whines and cries of protest were swiftly ignored and met with words that practically oozed dominance and sex.

“Gonna take my cum baby?” She panted into your ear after tugging your almost limp body towards her chest. “No mommy, too much can’t” you mewled quietly as the woman did nothing to slow the abuse on your core. “Shh, just a little more my love, such a sweet girl for your mommy. Mommy wants to make her sweet girl nice and full hmm? Can you be a doll and let mommy do that baby?” She murmured sweetly causing you to nod, giving Emily that okay to let herself and you fall over the edge as you both came rushing over the edge at the same time. A sneaky right arm squeezed at the base of her cock causing her cum to spurt into your awaiting walls with ease. The sensations causing you to go dizzy with pleasure and everything went black.

Now to say Emily wasn’t proud of her ability to fuck you like this wasn’t her secret joy of life would be a lie but she was always there jumping straight into aftercare. In scenes, your nothing more than a means to an end, how you both like it, but now your her wife, her sweet lover who deserves the world, sun, moon and stars. There’s nothing she wouldn’t do to be that for you so it was no surprise that she sprung into action, ridding herself of the strap on, heading to get a warm wash cloth and lotion for you as well as drinks and snacks for when you came round to the world of the living.

Like always she had been able to care for your sore body before you’d even roused yourself, and when you did the familiar haze covered your beautiful eyes showing the woman how far down you are. “Are we with me sweet girl?” She murmured softly, a stark contrast of what she’d been earlier on. A pitiful whimper was all she received as a response as you slowly rolled onto your stomach knowing the routine well enough. “Thank you sweet girl, mommy just wants to make you feel all better now darling. I’ll be gentle love” she murmured to you lowly as she took your desired cream and applied generous amounts onto your sore arse. Next on the order would be a drink, trip to the rest room and a snack if you desired.

Before you knew it you were laying your head on Emily’s chest as she gently stroked your cheek with her index finger. Truly you looked nothing short of perfect in this state and it’s one she always wanted to commit to her memory. Although a sub drop didn’t appear to be on the cards Emily always easily let you back to the real world but slowly easing out of the scene, something that had worked well. What she had never seen you do is poke your tongue out to swipe at her finger before moving your hand to grab at her rest and bring the finger to your mouth.

On instinct really, you began to suckle on her finger as she watched on mesmerised. Oral fixation isn’t something you have discussed or discovered about yourself but it appears to be a needed conversation. “You’re okay darling, mommy is here okay?” She murmured to you watching as your eyes fluttered shut, contentment filling your body. Happy murmurs surrounded her fingers as you tried to snuggle even closer. “Good night sweet girl, mommy loves you darling” she whispered as you appeared to be falling into a peaceful slumber, not letting her finger slip from between your lips.

Word count 2144

[bellatriestowritesometimes]

To Know

aaron hotchner x reader

Summary: You attend your best friend's wedding where you see Hotch for the first time in four years since you were shot on your wedding day by Peter Lewis, forcing him to go into witness protection and leave you.

Part 2

AN/explanation:

Listen it’s been a minute since I’ve written anything and by minute I mean 4 years so bear with me!! There’s probably spelling and punctuation errors but I wrote this in the middle of the night so cut me some slack.

OK so a bit of an explanation on this.. so you know how everyone has their imaginary scenarios they make up before bed or wherever (and if you don’t you’re weird!) well this is mine!! OK not really but ever since I watched CM which was probably about 5/6 years ago now, Hotch was on my mind 24/7 and I have this plot in my head with YEARS worth of scenarios thought out with original characters and everything!! This is just a small snippet of the whole plot I have had thought out for Hotch and Alex (that is what I have named her in my head, but have obviously written it as a Y/N to make it more enjoyable I guess? Idk what people prefer!!). I could probably write a book on this crap but I’ll just start with this part. I am in the process of writing a part two to this so if anyone’s interested I’ll try to get it out before the weekend’s over as this is the only free time I have currently! Now if I ever was going to make this into a series (that’s a very big if) this would be a chapter towards the end of this plot that I have created. Anyways enough rambling…

I am an angst over any other kind of genre girly so that’s all this will be :D this seemed better in my head and it ALWAYS does but I just wanted to get it out of my system.

Hope u enjoy xx

Warnings: smut (a little not too much), cheating.

Word count: 3.9k

It was your best friend’s wedding and you couldn’t have been happier. Henry was your rock and pretty much the only family you ever had. He had been with you through everything, all the highs and lows, so he deserved today to be absolutely perfect.

You were helping Luca with his tie and giving him a final check over before he went out to marry your best friend. Luca knew how important you were to Henry and how important Henry was to you. The three of you were practically a throuple. OK maybe not a throuple but anyone who was important to Henry became important to you. They had been together for almost 5 years but knew each other for even longer. 

“He’s here you know...” Luca said “Henry invited everyone from the BAU..”

You raised an eyebrow at Luca whilst finishing up with his tie.

“I know,” you replied simply.

Henry was the one who got you a job at the BAU. He knew almost everyone and if he didn’t, he knew someone who did. He had helped out with several cases and knew everyone at the BAU well, so of course they all got an invite to his wedding which was in London. Henry knew your history with Hotch and that meant so did Luca.

“He has them all staying at the Ritz you know, booked a suite out for everyone,’’ Luca rambled.

“I know,” you repeated and rolled your eyes.

Of course he has you thought to yourself, money was never an issue for him. Not that it was for you either but you were slightly more modest than him.

Luca could sense that he wasn’t going to get anything else out of you so he decided to change the topic.

“You think we’re doing the right thing?” He asked referring to him and Henry.

“Absolutely,” you confirmed “he needs you Luca, I don’t even want to imagine what he would be like without you. It’s not something I’m prepared to take on” you let out a laugh. “You two have practically been married for the last 5 years, now it’s just time to make it official!” You gave his arms a squeeze.

“I’ll see you out there, no backing out now,” you gave him a wink and Luca gave you a nod with a smile.

You took that as your cue to leave and made your way towards the alter and towards Henry. As you made your way up to the front you saw all of the guests take their seats. You spotted JJ, Will and her boys a few rows from the front, who were staying at your place for the next few days. Emily, Spencer and Garcia were seated a few rows behind them and you spotted Morgan and Savannah seated on the other side of the room. You were trying to find Rossi and Krystall until your eyes landed on someone else. There he was sitting right next to Rossi with a brunette next to him which you assumed was Beth.

“How is he?” Henry’s voice snapped you back to reality.

“Huh?” Was the only thing that came out of your mouth as you slowly dragged your eyes away from the man that left you on pretty much your death bed and then divorced you.

“Luca – how is he? He’s not making a run for it is he?” Henry laughed but behind the laugh he needed the reassurance. He hadn’t been the perfect fiancé and has put Luca through the wringer at times, but there’s no one else for Henry other than Luca and vice versa.

“Stop being stupid!” You swatted him gently, “Of course not! I stopped him just before he got to the fire exit,” you replied playfully.

“Ha ha very funny,” Henry replied dryly, “And how are you? …You know with him being here.. You did say it was okay for me to invite him but I can send him home if you want. Just tell me and I’ll have him escorted out by security-”

“Please stop, it’s fine. Honestly I mean it. We’ve both moved on. I’m with Avery now and he’s with Beth,” you answered. “Besides today is not about me or my woes, it’s about you!”

-

The wedding ceremony was beautiful and it was now time for the reception. You made your way round to all the tables saying hello to the people you recognised until you reached the table you dreaded the most. Thankfully your husband Avery caught up with you to let you know that it was time to make your way to your seat as it was almost time for your speech.

You gave Rossi a smile in the distance before walking back to your seat, avoiding contact with Hotch for now who was sat right next to him.

-

After the speeches were done and the drinks began floating around the room, everyone felt a lot more relaxed. You were listening to the conversation Emily and Avery were having about a book they both had read, until you felt someone tap your shoulder.

“Hi you must be Y/N! I’m Beth, Aaron has told me so much about you!” Beth exclaimed as you turned around to face her.

“Yes hi! It’s lovely to meet you, I’m sorry I couldn’t introduce myself earlier,” you gave her a smile.

It was a genuine smile, she seemed nice and in any other situation you could even be friends. She is not to blame for what had happened between you and Hotch, however you did wonder what kind of things he has told her about you.

“It’s okay don’t worry about it! I understand how stressful weddings are,” she continued and for a second you thought if she had married Hotch without anyone telling you. Your eyes flicked towards her left hand that was wrapped around a champagne flute. No sign of a ring. You cursed yourself for still caring enough to check.

“That’s a beautiful ring” she said bringing you out of your trance.

You followed her gaze which was now on your own left hand. You hadn’t realised that you were twisting your own wedding ring with your thumb, reminiscing about how it felt when you had the ring on that Hotch gave you. It was a lot smaller than the one you have now. It had an oval diamond in the centre with three green sapphire leaves holding the diamond in place on each side. It was a delicate ring and you loved everything about it. Everything but the dreaded memories that came along with it. The ring was now replaced with a big teardrop diamond from Harry Winston and it was beautiful. It sparkled even in the dark and felt almost heavy on your finger. You had to admit that Avery had great taste, the two of you had now been married for almost 2 years.

“Thank you..” you smiled and let a breath out you didn’t know you were holding.

“Uhm this is Avery my husband-” you cleared your throat, almost forgetting to introduce him to her.

They shared a few polite words until Beth excused herself. You assumed she had gone to find Hotch as she disappeared into the crowd.

“She seems nice,” Avery said and gave you a small smile. He knew what had happened with you and Hotch and he wasn’t his biggest fan but he was never the one to bad mouth him.

“Yeah she does…” you replied quietly whilst your mind drifted off elsewhere. Emily sensed that you were uncomfortable and resumed her conversation with Avery in an attempt to take his attention off you.

-

It was several hours into the reception and you had stepped outside with Luca and lit a cigarette for you both to share.

You had noticed Beth was in the distance on the phone but Hotch was nowhere to be seen.

“Today has been beautiful,” you hummed as you took a pull of the cigarette and passed it to Luca.

“It really has been, thank you for helping Henry with the planning,” he expressed.

You both conversed about the wedding and your favourite parts until someone had interrupted you.

“Oh sorry,” your eyes followed his voice, “I thought Beth was out here,” he explained as he looked between you and Luca.

“She is,” you pointed with the cigarette between your fingers “she’s just gone into the gazeebo over there to take a call I think,” you replied.

“Thank you,” he looked into your eyes longer than he should have before he began walking her way.

“Is this the first time you’ve spoken to him tonight?” Luca asked whilst following your gaze that was still on Hotch.

“Yup.”

“There’s an explanation. I am sure he has an explanation,” Luca tried standing up for the man he barely knew.

You didn’t respond and instead focused your gaze on something else.

“You know… and I really shouldn’t be saying this but... I think Henry might’ve had something to do with it,” Luca continued.

“What makes you say that? Has he told you something?” You questioned focusing your attention back on Luca.

“Nope. He doesn’t tell me anything when it’s to do with work and I thank him for it. But it wouldn’t surprise me if he did. He would do anything to keep you safe. Even if it meant putting your newly husband into witness protection…”

You thought about it for a minute or so and yes maybe Henry was the one who suggested going into witness protection but that still doesn’t explain the radio silence from Hotch even after Peter Lewis was caught.

“I want you to have what me and Henry have,” Luca brought you out of your thoughts once again.

“I have that. With Avery, he makes me happy,” you replied not knowing if it’s the full truth. Avery does make you happy and you love him but you’re not sure if it compares to what you and Hotch had and it seems like Luca doesn’t either.

“Let’s get back in there shall we? I’m sure Henry is looking for you!” You perked up, trying to change a conversation that was becoming too heavy for your liking. 

-

Since you were one of the few people who didn’t drink at the wedding, you decided to give Emily, Spencer, and Garcia a lift back to the hotel whilst Avery, JJ, Will, and the boys got an Uber home back to your place.

The car ride back to the hotel turned into an episode of carpool karaoke with Emily blasting any and every song that came on the radio.

Once you pulled up to the hotel you helped Emily out of the car and then let Spencer take over. You were about to shut the passenger door when you noticed a phone on the seat Emily was sat in.

“You left your phone Beyonce!” You called out to Emily as she was finishing her 3rd run of single ladies from the start.

You caught up with her and placed the phone in her hand, she took one look at it and blurted out that it’s Beth’s and that she had found it by some gazebo outside.

You pressed the lock button on the side and the phone lit up revealing a picture of Hotch and Beth set as the lock screen.

“What room is she in do you know?” You asked Emily but she just shrugged her shoulders and carried on signing. Spencer and Penelope both gave you a shrug signalling that they didn’t know either.

“Right I will just leave it with reception. The three of you get some sleep ok, we have brunch tomorrow!” You shouted even though the three of them were already inside the hotel queuing up for the elevator.

You pressed the lock button once again making the phone light up just to stare at the lock screen once more. With a sigh you then began to make your way into the hotel and walked towards reception.

“Hello Miss can I help you with anything?” The lady asked.

“Uh yes actually, I’m trying to return a lost phone to a friend of mine but I don’t remember the room number. Could you please let me know? It should be a suite under the name Hotchner, they’re here for a wedding,” you smiled hoping she’d give you the information you needed.

She typed away on her keyboard for a few seconds before replying to your question.

“I have an Aaron Hotchner on the system along with a Beth Clemmons sharing suite 107?”

“Yes that’s the one! Thank you so much!” You thanked the lady and made your way to the elevator. Emily and the others were long gone, probably passed out in their beds by now you hoped.

-

You tapped softly on the door waiting for someone to open it and hoping that it wasn’t Beth. You weren’t even sure what you were doing, what you were going to say, what if Beth’s awake, what would happen then?

You had no excuse and no business to be knocking on his hotel door. Well aside from the fact that he left you on your wedding night right after you got shot, had someone serve you with divorce papers as soon as you came out of your coma and you still haven’t had an explanation even though it’s been close to 4 years.

After a few moments the door was gently pulled open and there he stood. Still in his shirt and trousers from the wedding. He looked taken back seeing you stand there in the hallway. Although you were the only one on his mind tonight, you still had caught him off guard.

“Hi…” Was all that he managed to say.

“Hi…” you breathed out. “..Beth left her phone at the wedding reception,” you said holding it up as proof.

You looked behind him and could see 3 mini whisky bottles that were now empty, lined up on the coffee table. On the left you could see two large double doors that were shut behind the sofa. You had assumed that’s where Beth was sleeping as there was no sign of her anywhere else.

“Oh… Well thank you for bringing it here, you didn’t have to go out of your way...”

“It’s okay I was dropping Emily and the others off anyway,” you replied whilst handing him the phone.

As he took the phone from you he moved slightly to the side, almost inviting you in before actually saying it.

“Would you like to come in?” he paused for a moment, “…please come in” he pleaded. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you the whole night I just didn’t want to disturb you. Beth’s asleep so you don’t have to worry about her or we could take a walk somewhere,” he went on; desperation clear in his voice.

Instead of replying you walked past him making your way into his room, a completely different side of you taking over.

You made your away towards the sofa, never sitting down just standing in front of it. You turned to face Hotch who closed the door and walked towards you, stopping just a few inches away. You could tell he had been drinking. You had obviously seen him drink at the wedding but he left several hours ago yet here he was emptying the mini fridge in his hotel suite.

You eyed the bottles on the coffee table.

“Rough night?’ You asked but it sounded more like a statement. When you looked back at him his mouth was slightly open, almost as if he was thinking of what to say but no words were coming out.

You tilted your head to the side as you took in his features. He looked different. Good but different.  After all these years had passed, you never knew when you would be able to get a good look at him again, and god how much you’d missed his handsome face. The last memory you had of it was when you collapsed in his arms after being shot during your first dance as Mr and Mrs. You don’t remember much after that, just faint shouting in the distance as your vision went blurry until you eventually passed out in his arms.

“I- um I don’t know what to say Y/N… I don’t even know where to begin,” he expressed. Concern, pain and regret all clear in his voice.

Before he could continue you lifted your hand up in an attempt to stop him from saying anything else. That’s not what you came here for.

“I am so sorry,” he breathed out but you took a step closer to him and placed one of your fingers on his lips to silence him.

“Shh,” you whispered whilst you ran your other hand slowly down his chest stopping at the belt of his trousers. You could feel his pulse quicken as he took in what you were doing.

Never breaking eye contact you began to gently move your hand lower until you reached his crotch. You then began to palm him with a bit more force, feeling him harden underneath your touch. A slight smirk played on your lips as you realised how much of an affect you still had on him, how much his body still responded to you. You believed that you were the only one that could get him this flustered, to get him to cheat on his girlfriend, to get him this hot and bothered over practically nothing.

“Take off your trousers...” you hissed.

The concern and regret was now replaced with confusion and curiosity but he did as he was told and began to undo his belt. You watched him carefully as he dropped his trousers to the floor stopping at his boxers.

“You can leave those on, this won’t take long,” you instructed coldly and pushed him onto the sofa. As he sat down he reached over to switch a small table lamp off, leaving a soft glow on your silhouette that was coming from a floor lamp on the other side of the room.

You lifted your dress and rolled it up stopping at your waist whilst you straddled Hotch. The familiar feeling of his dick beneath you was enough to send you over the edge.

You lifted yourself up slightly using your knees and grabbed him through his boxers, silently thanking him for wearing a pair with the slit. He watched your every move and took in a sharp breath when your hand made contact with him and took another when you gently lowered yourself onto his dick.

You began rocking your hips, savouring every single second. You started to pick the pace up and you felt Hotch move in to kiss you to which you gently pushed his head back with your hand, not wanting any other intimacy other than the feeling of him inside you and maybe you inside of him.

You took two of your fingers and placed them on his lips again, this time using them to part his mouth. You gently slipped them inside and he welcomed it. You decided to push them in deeper. Not deep enough to hurt him but deep enough to your liking. Your fingers felt cold against his tongue.

At that point you knew you were close and so was he, your fingers in his mouth helped him to stifle his moans, whilst you watched him intently. After a few moments you felt him twitch beneath you as he threw his head back when he came and you shortly followed.

You removed your fingers from his mouth and gently stood up lowering your dress back down giving the man you still loved one last look before turning around to leave. Just before you got the door you stopped and turned around, he was now up grabbing his trousers off the floor.

“You left me… I was in a coma Hotch and when I came out of it you weren’t there. You left me Aaron.”

Without giving him a second to respond you left and closed the door behind you.

-

As you stepped into the elevator a thousand thoughts were racing in your head. You began to question yourself on why you had come here in the first place, but you knew exactly why. You wanted to see if you still had that control over him, you wanted to see if you could still have him, if he still belonged to you. And he did. You thought about how your relationship had evolved from being just co-workers to friends from friends to lovers and from lovers to strangers. That’s what it felt like being in that room with him. Just two strangers having sex. That was probably the first time the two of you had sex instead of making love. There was a difference between the two and you knew which one you preferred.

Deep down you knew why he had to leave and most importantly leave without you, but it still didn’t make it any less painful. You had thought back to what Lucas said earlier when you were outside, that Henry might’ve had something to do with it... But the truth is whether he did or didn’t it wouldn’t have changed the outcome. He needed to leave, to hide and go into witness protection. Not only for his and Jacks safety but for yours too. It all made sense. Peter Lewis couldn’t hold you over him anymore if you had no connection to him so he left. He left without you and then had you served with divorce papers.

The elevator doors opened and snapped you back to reality. You shook your head in an attempt to get rid of the thoughts. You didn’t want to go back there, you had tried your hardest to move past that part of your life and dwelling about the details and the what if’s is something you didn’t want to do anymore. You had wasted enough time doing that and you’ve moved on since then and so has Hotch. But sometimes late at night when you can’t sleep, those thoughts creep back in and they have a way of suffocating you.

“Did you manage to return your friends phone?” The lady behind the reception desk asked with a smile.

“Yes I did, thank you so much for your help again!” You replied and returned the smile.

You made your way to the parking lot and got into your car and made your way home… To your husband…. Who you had just cheated on with your ex-husband. You pulled out of the parking lot and let the memories from earlier fill your mind. You had glanced briefly at your watch and the time told you that is was quarter past three. You groaned at the thought of having to be up before 11 am later that day for a brunch that Henry and Luca had organised with a smaller amount of guests, which included the BAU team.

You had wondered if he’ll be there with Beth or if he won’t show.

To be continued....

Part 2

[milf-murdock]

Your writing is literally phenomenal - sincerely, someone who just binged your entire masterlist!! 💗 If you’re interested in this, I’d love to see dark!simon doting on reader when she’s finally pregnant 🤭 I’m sure he’d wait on her hand and foot, soothing and comforting her, but also being so smug because he’s literally a mastermind who’s been planning this for ages

Thank you so much for the kind words, love 🥹🥹 Comments like this mean the world to me and inspire me so much to keep writing 🖤

I fucking loooooooved this ask. When I tell you my brain was instantly just braining. However, I must be fully honest with you 😔 This is so fucking soft. Just. Wildly. Absurdly. Tooth-rottingly sweet. It turns out once dark!Simon actually gets her pregnant he just melts into the sweetest softie ever (shh don't tell anyone). Thinking about writing another part that's filthy smut with dark!Simon and his pregnant girl but I was just so excited about this fluff I wanted to share it lemme know if anyone would want to see that tho

Anyways, here's Simon helping her with morning sickness, Simon hearing the heartbeat for the first time, and Simon feeling them kick for the first time 🥺

Warnings: pregnancy, female reader, mentions of doctors offices, morning sickness, vomiting

Part 1 can be found here and Part 2 (NSFW) can be found here

Simon’s eyes blinked open as he registered your movements. The sound of your footsteps on the floor echoed through the room as you raced to the bathroom. His response was automatic as he rose out of bed, blinking the last dregs of sleep away as he followed your steps to find you kneeling on the cool tile in front of the toilet, dry heaving into the porcelain bowl. It seemed more often than not your mornings started this way. With no hesitation he knelt down on one knee beside you, pulling your hair up and away from your face into a loose pony tail held in his hand. His other hand rubbed soothing circled on your back, gently stroking up and down as he murmured soothing words. 

“I’m sorry, love. ’M sure this bit’s almost over.” 

As if on cue, you wretched once more into the bowl and Simon grimaced at his own poor timing. With a gasp you laid your head on your forearm against the toilet seat, eyes closed while you struggled to catch your breath, one hand rising up to flush the contents down the drain. Simon released your hair and rose to grab a cloth from the cupboard, running it under cool water and wringing it out. 

“Remember, doc said this was all completely normal. Good even, really.” Simon’s voice was nearly as comforting as the cool washcloth he pressed against the back of your neck. “Means the baby is developing and your body’s changing and whatnot.” You finally raised your head up, taking the cloth from Simon and running it over your face. 

“Yeah, still fucking sucks though,” you muttered before leaning back into Simon, his strong arms wrapping around you to pull you into him. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head as one hand snaked down to rest against your abdomen. 

“It’ll pass, babe.” Simon pressed another kiss to your temple. “Besides, you’re still stunning.” 

You raised your head off his chest, shooting him the most menacing glare you could muster. “Not in the mood for your sarcasm, Si,” you grumbled. 

Simon brushed a strand of hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear. “Not sarcasm, babe. I mean it. You’re glowing.” 

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the soft smile that tugged at the edges of your lips. “Whatever, you’re gettin’ soft.” 

“Don’t I know it,” Simon agreed, pressing another kiss to your cheek before rising and helping you off the floor. “Come on, I’ll go make us a tea.”

___________

It was a well known fact that Simon hated hospitals. And doctors. And, well, really any kind of medical setting. Simon shifted anxiously in the uncomfortable plastic chair next to your exam bed. The sterile smell of medical suite was practically burning his nostrils. His leg bounced up and down at a rapid pace, one hand gripped tight on his knee and the other gripping yours in a similar hold. He looked around the room, taking in all the infographic posters explaining the various stages of pregnancy, health adverts, and more.

“Si.” Your gentle tone pulled Simon from his thoughts, his eyes drifting back to your face. “Relax,” you reminded him softly. “It’s okay. I’m here with you.” You gave his hand a gentle squeeze. His eyes drift from yours down to your abdomen. He swore you were beginning to show, just the barest hint of a swell to your belly. 

There was a knock at the door and then the friendly technician entered, introducing herself to you and Simon before placing a paper drape over your lap and having you lay back. You shifted your shirt up whilst she set up for the ultrasound, giving Simon an excited smile as you settled in.

“Oh that’s warm,” you commented as the tech squeezed a light gel onto your bare skin. 

“Yeah, we have a little warmer we keep it in, just something to help make the mum’s a bit more comfortable,” she commented as she started pressing the wand to your belly. 

Simon’s eyes flicked to the screen, the waves of black and grey indecipherable as the tech  moved around your stomach. 

“Ah, there we go. See? Right….here.” The nurse tapped to a black shape on the screen as she pressed the wand a little deeper into your skin. “There’s your baby.” She tapped a few buttons on her keyboard, taking a picture. “Would you like to hear the heartbeat?” 

You nodded enthusiastically, but Simon couldn’t even get a word out. His own heart was racing so fast, his eyes staring at the screen, taking it all in. His baby. There were no words to adequately describe the pure joy, excitement, and absolute terror he was feeling. Y

You and Simon clung to each other, your joined hands serving as a lifeline for you both, tethering you to this moment. You and Simon each hold your breath, unsure what you’re waiting for. 

And then there’s a whoosh, and the sound of a steady heartbeat fills the room. Tears instantly filled your eyes. “Oh my god, Si,” you whispered. “That’s their heartbeat.” 

Simon’s own eyes were misty as he took it all in. “Yeah, babe. That’s our baby.” He blinked the tears away, internally urging himself to keep it together. He pressed a kiss to the back of your hand. “There they are.” 

______

Simon was upstairs tackling the crib that he had been so fucking sure he didn’t need the fucking instructions for, only to find out that the damn pieces weren’t locking into place the way they were supposed to. “Bloody hell,” he growled, tearing through the mess of cardboard and styrofoam to find where he had tossed aside that bloody manual. 

A shout from downstairs had him freezing in place, his blood running cold as the bottom dropped out of his stomach. 

“Simon! Come here! Quick!” You shouted from your place on the couch, urgency in your voice. 

Simon dropped the drill to the floor, racing down the hall and flying down the stairs as fast as his feet could carry him. His mind spiraled, thinking through doctor’s numbers, fastest route to the hospital, or should he call an ambulance? No, he was positive he could drive faster. He rounded the corner, eyes wide and fixed on you. 

“What’s wrong? What’s happened? Are you okay? Is it the baby?” His questions rushed out like word vomit as he strode to your side. He dropped to one knee, a protective hand resting on your pronounced bump, eyes flitting from you to your stomach. 

“What?” You asked, brows furrowing in confusion at the panic-stricken man panting before you. “No, I’m fine Si, just…here…feel,” you commanded, grabbing his hand and moving it to the lower left side of your stomach. “Wait for it…” you muttered. Simon was still trying to calm his racing heart, trying to take in the fact that you seemed perfectly fine. In fact, if anything, you seemed slightly annoyed. 

“Darling, what—” 

“Shhh!” You snapped. “Wait for it.” 

And then Simon felt it. A little force pressing against his hand, a fleeting sensation that was over as soon as it started. 

Simon’s eyes widened. “Was that?” 

“Mmhmm,” you squealed with a smile. 

“They kicked,” Simon laughed, pure awe on his face. He pressed his hand a little harder against your swollen mound, moving his hand just slightly to the right. He lowered his face to your stomach. “Come on, love, let’s see that again.” As if on cue, he felt a swift kick to his palm. Your laugh mingled with Simon’s as the radiant joy overtook you both. 

“He likes your voice,” you commented, smiling down at your bump and placing your hand atop Simon’s. 

“Of course she does,” Simon teased back. You weren’t finding out the gender in advance, wanting to be surprised. You each had your own suspicions though. At the sound of his voice, another kick hit his palm, harder than both the previous ones, causing you to wince. “Oi,” Simon jokingly chided, giving a stern look to your bump. “Take it easy on your mum. She’s working hard to grow you nice and strong.” Another strong kick. 

“Looks like we have a future football star on our hands,” you commented was you rubbed a hand against your sore swollen side. 

“Maybe they’ll play for Man U.” Simon pressed a kiss to your bump, right where the last kick was before rising off the floor to sit next to you on the couch. His lips found yours, kissing you with a fierceness that took your breath away. “Thank you, love.” His voice was soft as he pulled back from the kiss. “For this. For all of it. This is the greatest gift.” 

[wheeboo]

tu es belle | yoon jeonghan

SYNOPSIS. in which you and jeonghan are invited to paris fashion week. PAIRING. idol!yoon jeonghan x idol gn!reader GENRE. fluff, secret relationship au, two suggestive lines if you *squint* WARNINGS. reader is wearing makeup, terms of endearment (angel, darling) WORD COUNT. 1.9k

requested by anon: hiii I have a request 🥺I was thinking about idol!oc x jh in Paris during a fashion week?👁️👄👁️  like they’re together and they were both invited 🫣

notes: secret relationship w hannie just hits different yk.

You close your eyes as the makeup brush makes contact with the crease of your eyelid, your hands fiddling nervously on your lap with the material of the outfit you wore. You shouldn’t have any reason to be nervous𑁋you have done these kinds of events plenty of times.

But the only reason you felt this way is because your own boyfriend was pretty much right under your nose. Even though the two of you arrived in Paris in separate flights at different times, the thought that you know he is here in the same hotel as you gives you a mixture of anxiousness and excitement. You love knowing that he is here, but at the same time, you can’t help but think at the risk of getting caught together. 

Yet you can’t deny how much you’ve missed him. Your schedules have been filled to the brim and it’s been so long since you spent the day being in his arms, and risking your careers by going on dates together. There have been so many close calls, but somehow, fate had kept your secret intact. But now, being in such close proximity, the temptation to run to him the moment you lay eyes on him only grows stronger.

As the makeup artist finishes her work, you thank her and watch as she exits your room. The soft evening glow of the city of Paris filters through the large, lavish window, casting a natural warm ambiance throughout the hotel room. Soon, you would have to leave to attend Paris Fashion Week, where you would meet other celebrities and idols... as well as Jeonghan.

And speak of the devil, the moment you hear your phone ring, you run over to it instinctively, eyes lighting up to the sight of Jeonghan’s name.

“Hannie?” You lower your voice down, even though you were the only person in the room. “Are you alone right now?”

“I wouldn’t be calling if I wasn’t,” Jeonghan responds teasingly. “I miss you, angel.”

You settle yourself down at the edge of the bed, releasing a contented sigh. “I miss you more.”

“Are you all prepared and ready?”

You take a glance at yourself in the mirror, swaying your body from side-to-side to admire your outfit. “I am. Just finished doing my makeup, so you called at the right time.”

You swear you can see the smirk playing at his lips. 

“Hmm, I wish I could be in your room right now, see how beautiful you look, take you all in for myself...” Jeonghan says, drawling his words out purposely. “but you know I also love surprises.”

You feel the heat spread throughout your face. He knows the effect he has on you. It never takes him long for you to be wrapped around his finger. 

“You are just... a menace,” You murmur, but you know he hears you.

Jeonghan chuckles, the sound making your heart swell. “Can’t help it, angel. It’s so easy for you to take my breath away.”

Before you can respond, a knock at your door startles the words out of your mouth. And when you look down at the time displayed on your phone, you realise that it’s your cue to leave and probably Jeonghan’s too.

“I’ll see you tonight, okay?” You quickly say into the phone. “I love you.”

As you utter those words, you can imagine Jeonghan's warm smile on the other end of the line. "I love you too, darling. See you tonight.”

Hanging up, you let out a relieved breath before approaching the door, frowning at the bittersweet ache to your heart. When you finally open it, it reveals your manager who tells you that you need be down in the lobby in a few minutes. 

You nod and swiftly grab the designer-branded bag that you were representing. The thought of seeing Jeonghan lingers in the back of your mind. Even though you can’t be seen fully interacting with him, you wanted to at least be close enough.

Following your manager down to the lobby, you feel the anticipation boiling. The sound of your shoes against the marble floor echoes through the corridor as you make your way downstairs. You notice the lively business outside, already seeing a multitude of cameras all clicking and flashing at a few celebrities and fashion icons before disappearing into the crowd. You try to look if you can see Jeonghan anywhere, but you have no luck. Gosh, where could he be?

As you near the entrance, you take in a deep breath and mentally prepare yourself for the onslaught of people coming your way. And the moment you step outside, you are immediately engulfed by a sea of flashing lights and fans trying to pry their way through.

“Y/N! You look so beautiful tonight!”

“Oh my gosh, is that really Y/N?”

“They look so elegant!”

The voices of the fans and photographers merge into a jarring abundance of white noise. You smile graciously to as many as you can, acknowledging their presence while staying focused on navigating through the chaos. The vibrant energy of the crowd buzzes around you as you find yourself breathing in the evening air of the bustling Paris streets. 

Despite the chaos surrounding you, your heart still longs for a glimpse of Jeonghan𑁋just something, anything. You march through the crowd, and your eyes scan each face, hoping to catch sight of any familiar features. You know he is here. Somewhere. 

Suddenly, nearing the entrance to the Carrousel de Louvre, you overhear voices calling out a familiar name. 

“Yoon Jeonghan! Yoon Jeonghan!”

“Wow, he’s so much more handsome in person.”

It makes you come a halt, and you look back to see a frenzy of fans surrounding a figure heading slowly in your direction. And when your eyes catch sight of his familiar dark hair, you feel your heart skip a beat.

His outfit consists of all black: a chic, trendy oversized peacoat and some black pants and leather boots. Yet even despite the solid colours, he always manages to stick out of the crowd. His beauty is unmatched, and his aura radiated an ethereal charm that captivated the eyes of everyone around him. But he captured more than your eyes; he captured your heart as well. 

As Jeonghan nears and you stay put in your spot, the two of you meet gazes, and for a split moment, the world around seems to fade away. A spark of recognition bursts in his face, and a soft smile plays at his lips as he takes in your beauty with his eyes in while coming closer. 

Your thoughts tell you to approach him, to draw him into your arms for a heartwarming hug that you deeply cherished, but you both know you can’t do that. Not in front of all these people.

With a heavy heart, you muster a smile and give Jeonghan an acknowledging nod as he strides past you and inside the building, your shoulders slightly brushing against each other. It's a silent understanding between the two of you that you must maintain the façade at least until the end of the night.

Releasing a sigh, you wait a few moments before walking inside as well.

Inside the Carrousel de Louvre, the world transforms into a universe of high-class fashion and elegance. The grandeur of the venue makes you gasp as you take in the regal appearance of the runway. You sense the eagerness in the air as models, designers, celebrities, and other idols talk amongst each other, all ready for the showcase.

You find yourself talking and greeting a few recognisable faces, but not enough to strike a conversation. Plus, you were more focused on one task only: finding Jeonghan.

As you navigate through the sea of attendees, you realise everyone beginning to take their seats. You feel the panic arise as you try to look around for an available seat somewhere, but it didn’t help that other people were doing the same as you.

However, your eyes settle on an empty seat next to a familiar face. It's Jeonghan. The realisation hits you like a wave𑁋surprise and nervousness. Sitting next to Jeonghan would mean risking exposure, but jeez, how did every seat manage to be taken in a matter of seconds? 

Letting the courage takeover, you approach the seat next to him, trying to remain composed despite the fluttering in your chest. You see the surprised look to his face once he turns his head and catches sight of you walking up to him. A knowing smile dances on his lips as he scoots over slightly to make space for you.

You sit down next to him, chest tense with nervousness but also a sense of relief. The proximity of him next to you sends a surge of warmth through your body.

Jeonghan glances curiously in your direction, leaning in ever so slightly to be able to whisper, “You look beautiful tonight.”

A blush rises to your cheeks as you meet Jeonghan's gaze for a moment before looking away.

“And... you look stunning tonight as well,” You reply shyly.

Jeonghan's eyes flicker with mischief. "We make quite the pair, don't we?"

Ever the tease, You think, shaking your head playfully, but you can’t help the grin at your lips. 

The two of you don’t say anymore words after that, just exchanges of stolen glances and affectionate smiles. 

As the lights begin to dim, everyone shoots their gazes towards the runway, voices fading into hushed silence. Your eyes follow the first model that paces down the runway, entranced by their alluring presence and the way they seem to command the runway so easily as they showcased their outfits. As more models travel down the runway, you find yourself immersed in the show. 

But in the midst of all this, you feel your hand grazing against Jeonghan’s between your seats. Your breath hitches nervously at the touch as you struggle with the dilemma of interlocking with his or taking it away. His presence resembled a magnet; your heart yearned for him as much as he does for you.

So you let your hand lock with his, the underlying fear of someone seeing briefly taking over, but the gentle squeezes he gives reassures those thoughts away.

As the fashion show unfolds before you, your focus shifts between the runway and Jeonghan, an admiring smile to your face as you take in the impeccable beauty of both. This is a little secret that only the two of you know. Sometimes you wish you can love for the whole world to see, but maybe you weren’t ready for that just yet. You and Jeonghan felt perfectly content in the shared intimacy of each other’s presences.

You didn’t need the world’s validation to tell you how and who to love.

As the show reaches its finish and the final model takes their last walk down the runway, the crowd erupts into applause. You and Jeonghan, along with everyone around, all stand up to give applauses of your own, but you have to sneakily let go of each other’s hands.

When the crowd begins to disperse, you feel a hand grab your arm and pull you to the side. You turn to see Jeonghan as he leads you away from the crowd. He brings you to a secluded corner of the venue away from the bustling sounds of the fashion show.

“Hannie? What are you doing?” You whisper, feeling the paranoia sink in.

“Put on some comfortable clothes when you get back to your room,” Jeonghan tells you quickly. “We’re going on a date.”

You lift a suspicious eyebrow. “But what if we get caught𑁋”

"We won't get caught, I promise.” He gives you a warm smile. “Trust me, angel."

You feel the hesitation, but you couldn’t say no. You have been missing him for way too long to say no. Being apart has been torture.

And so you nod. “Okay, I’ll be ready.”

Jeonghan lets his eyes rake over you once more, drinking every inch of your form, finally getting the opportunity to properly check you out. A smirk crosses his face.

Then he leans in close, his lips brushing against your ear. “I can’t wait to have you all for myself tonight.”

taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @ylliris-hanniehae

[theushijimaoverlord]

"this whole thing is a mess"

♡ tooru oikawa x reader - 1.3k ♡ warnings - none other than oikawa himself (and some ugly baby shenanigans) ♡ notes - hi! i'm purple and this is my first post, enjoy! (prompt credit from @creativepromptsforwriting)

It was a mess.

A big, tremendous, nearly-unfixable mess.

The day started off normal enough, you in your comfy gray sweat, loose shirt (that may or may not belong to Oikawa), a book you’ve been overdue to read in your hands. As your eyes scanned the pages, your attention was drawn away as you began to the thump thump thump of someone running up the stairs. And unless someone had broken into your house, you already knew who was currently making their way towards your bedroom.

As if on cue, a familiar ruffle of brunette hair came into view as said person came barreling through your door. For an athlete, it always bemuses you how Oikawa always got so winded running up your stairs.

You patiently wait for him to catch his breath. Finally, after he had decided that enough air had entered his lungs, he looked up and if you knew any better from the look in his eyes, you could already tell he was about to tell the most ridiculous thing ever. Because your boyfriend wouldn’t be doing the world justice if he were one for the dramatics.

“You would not believe what I just found out.”

Staring at him for a few seconds, you roll your eyes, close your books and turn your whole body to face him. This was gonna take a while. “Okay I’ll bite. Tell me what you found out.”

If you squint hard enough, you could almost see the joy gleaming in his eye from the fact that he caused you to turn your whole attention to him. But it quickly disappeared as he crossed the room and plopped down face first onto your bed, arms wide, and began whining.

You should convince him to take up theater.

“Come on Tooru, tell me what you came all the way up here for or I’m going back to my book,” Turning his face, Oikawa looked at you and gave his signature pout. If you called him out for it, he would vigilantly deny it.

“Did you remember when you went over to my mom's house a week ago?” 

“When we visited for new years? Yeah I remember, remind me later to ask her for her mochi recipe.”

“Yeah, yeah. So you remember when the two of you decided to torture me by looking at my baby photos?” Honestly, he was the one torturing you with the way he was loudly complaining with each flip of the photo album.

If it wasn’t already obvious by the media attention, countless photo-shoot bookings, and (to his dismay) amount of fanfic being written about him, Oikawa Tooru was a very handsome man. Some might even argue (you) that the word pretty comes to mind when talking about the Argentina National Volleyball Team’s setter.

But a little secret that he had and would rather take to the grave is that he was a very, very ugly baby. At least by his standards. You have a running theory that he only thinks that way because Iwaizumi liked to taunt him about it, especially when they were younger.

“Yes Tooru, although I’ve told you pointless times that you were a very normal looking baby, I do recall looking at photos with your mom.” Reaching a hand out from under the warm blanket, you grab his hand that is closest to you and intertwine your fingers. You swear his pout lessens a little before he continued telling you about his current dilemma.

“Well I was scrolling online and you will not believe what I saw” Sitting up without disconnecting your hands, he sits on the bed, brown eyes now directly across from you. 

“Well she. Posted. The. Photos.”

A beat of silence passed as he just stared at you, straight faced and serious. 

And then you break eye contact by letting out a short laugh, which apparently broke a dam inside you because your free hand came up to cover your mouth as you tried to suppress the fit of giggles you couldn’t hold back anymore. 

Oikawa just continues to stare at you, but now he had a dumbfounded expression on his face, as if he hadn’t just told you the worst possible thing to ever happen to him. Realizing you weren’t gonna stop, Oikawa lets out a long drawn whine, closing the gap in between the two of you and throwing his arms around your body, pressing his face into your neck.

The position caused you to uncover your mouth and now the only sound filling the room was your unfiltered laughs. As much as Oikawa loved listening to the noise, he hugged you tighter hoping you would eventually stop being entertained by his misfortune.

“Why do you hate me, babe. What have I done to deserve this mistreatment?”

As your laughter finally dies down, you reach your arms around and hug him back, rubbing one palm up and down his back as the other hand carded his brown moppy hair through your fingers. Your bedroom was now engulfed by a (rare) moment of peaceful silence as you felt him breathing into your neck.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’d have a knack for always being the most dramatic person in a room” A pause before his response.

“...no” An obvious lie, but you let it slide.

“Alright, what are people saying about your photos though? Can’t be that bad”

Sitting up straight again, his arms were still wrapped around your body so he had to crane his neck to look down at you and you find yourself doing a similar motion to look up at him. If anyone else saw the two of you like this, they might find the positioning comedic.

“It’s terrible. Absolutely horrible. This whole thing is a mess. The entire world is making fun of me as we speak.” 

Rolling your eyes, you reach for your phone on the nightstand and begin searching for his mother’s post which wasn’t hard considering you closely followed her actively due to her weekly recipe post. And just as you presumed, Oikawa’s mom’s most recent post was a picture of some photos from the album the two of you looked at a few days ago.

You could tell they were pictures of Oikawa during his infant years, but only because you were able to see it in person but…. When you closely examined the post, you were astonished that anyone could even tell what the photo was off. Even though mama Oikawa had skills in the kitchen and taking pictures of the foods she makes, the woman wasn’t as skilled when photographing other things.

“Babe, literally no one can tell what this is a picture of. If I didn’t know any better, it just looks like she took a picture of a photograph of a loaf of bread and posted it.” A gasp falls from his lips, causing you to look back up at him.

“Are you saying I look like a loaf of bread? How dare you!” You are practically rendered speechless.

“No! I’m saying that unless people have seen the real thing, there is no way anyone would guess that it’s a photo of you as a baby. And I’m looking at the comment section right now, no one is saying anything about you, most people are asking what it even is.”

“What? I swear people were saying stuff” Snatching your phone, he also begins to scroll before he comes across a comment that read:

that’s the stupidest looking baby I’ve ever seen

Turning the phone to show you, he pointed at the words on the screen, giving you a wide eyed I-told-you-so look. 

“See??” Looking at him, you gave Oikawa a blank stare.

“Tooru, Hajime is that one who commented that” Flipping the screen back around, his eyes quickly scan for the person who typed out the atrocious words and staring right back at him is Iwa-chan’s username, and profile pic of the gym he worked at.

“Oh”

Pondering his existence, Oikawa almost misses the snort you let out if it wasn’t for the explosion of laughter you let out.

Again

♡ hello! thank you for finishing my first work, i hope you enjoyed it. i would love any type of constructive criticism, either in regard of my writing, theme, or anything else

♡ i took a lot of my inspiration from @adoringhaikyuu, especially when creating my theme so i wanted to give them credit, and i completely recommend their work so go check them out

♡ thank you (again) and warmest regards, ms. purple