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#3 NEXT BUTTONS AND NO PICTURES
predestinatos · 2 months
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you mean everything - MV1 ೀ⋆。🌷
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summary: max needed a wedding date and you were used to being his fake partner.
tags: max verstappen x fem!reader, fake dating, friends to lovers, max is so whipped, fluff, a bit angsty maybe?, mentions of alcohol
word count: 2k
notes: i've been writing (and thinking) so much about max... my period is coming please give me a break i'm sensitive. also would love to get some feedback if possible so i know if it's worth making a series out of this!!!!
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"If you want to make it believable at least hold my hand" you half-whispered to Max, who was buttoning his blazer while getting out of the car, you behind him.
"Sorry, I'm not used to this with you" he said chuckling. His sweaty palm held yours tightly, and the feeling of it was odd. Knowing Max for so long meant that these romantic gestures felt almost cringeworthy to you both, and you both had to put up award winning performances every time you played this game.
The game in question being fake-dating. It started as a funny joke where you both thought it would be great to test out the Get A Champagne Bottle For Free At This Restaurant If You Propose theory (which worked, by the way). From then onwards, you used each other as dates whenever asked by annoying family members, creepy coworkers, or just because you felt like lying.
The talking wasn't hard - you both felt comfortable in that part, lying with words coming off almost dangerously natural - but when it came to acting the part, both of you felt awkward, like kids who found relationships absolutely repulsive.
This time, though, the performance would last longer than usual: it was a wedding. Max's friend's wedding. Max could've just gone along, or bring a friend (even you as a friend). Yet he had told his friend, after one too many shots on his Bachelor's Party, and after being chosen as The Guy Who'll Take the Longest to Settle, that he had, in fact, a girlfriend. His friends didn't believe him, so he showed a picture of you two together - a selfie really, nothing much. And they still said they didn't believe it. So here you are.
You couldn't blame him, even if you wanted to. You agreed to use each other as a fake partner for as long as you could in as many situations as required, although when it all started none of you ever thought it would lead to wedding attendances.
So now there you were, Max's hand on yours, entering the small church. His eyes locked with the groom, who waved and called for you to sit near the altar.
"So you ARE real" he said, nervousness laced in his voice even as he tried to lighten the mood himself. You giggled at the irony of it, nodding as you said your congratulations.
"Just wait until the guys see this" he continued gesturing towards the bench where 3 other men around his age sat. Men you had seen before in some Instagram pictures, men you spent the previous night trying to memorize basic information about so you didn't sound suspicious.
Max's hand now fell on your waist almost instinctively - it wasn't instinctively, he told himself once he noticed its positioning. And if it was, it was only because he took this so seriously, almost as a sort of method acting. Sitting down next to his friends, he noticed how all of them seemed surprised at your presence, and something like pride filled his chest. He loved winning, loved being right even if he was lying; but most especially, he loved how jealous other men seemed to be over the fact that he was (at least in their minds) dating you.
He couldn't deny - though he tried, really - that you two looked good together. His rougher features mixed with your softer ones gave you both an aura of near unreachability, which yes, was pretentious of him to think but he thought nevertheless.
The ceremony was quick and endearing, a smile spread across everyone's faces at the shared loved between the bride and the groom. As the crowd clapped, Max leaned into you, "don't tell me you're crying". "I am, just to think that I'll have to keep pretending to date YOU for the next 10 hours" you replied, his mocking smile recognizing the joke.
The reception hall was beautifully decorated with shades of soft green and violet orchids. Max tried not to think about how much it matched the shade of your dress, how you looked like you had come to life from a classical novel. He tried to feel like anyone but Mr. Darcy as you felt so much like Elisabeth Bennett to him.
Sitting down next to him, you found this part easier - mingling and socializing was something you enjoyed more than he did - especially with alcohol in the mix. It's a wedding, you thought; this is what weddings are for.
So you drank the wine with the main course and sipper champagne to celebrate and ordered a few cocktails when it was time to dance and talk - and you felt it on your body almost as much as you felt Max's hand occasionally sitting on your thigh, but not even close to how strongly you felt his thumb caress your skin as he did so. Truth was, he too was drunk; his eyes looked smaller and his cheeks were flushed, and the amount of times he ran a hair through his dirty blonde hair had caused it to look messier. As you looked at him, you felt he never looks as attractive as when he is like this - loose and carefree, his shirt sleeves rolled up and a smile on his face when he notices people laugh at his joke.
"I have to admit I didn't think it was true" his friend said when Max left to go to the bathroom. He looked drunker than the two of you combined, his words hard to decypher, like a riddle. "He's been talking about you for months now and we never saw you for real so we thought you didn't exist" he laughed, and you laughed back before it registered.
"Months?" you asked him, eyebrows furrowed yet attempting to remain composed. You shouldn't have asked it - a supposedly month old girlfriend wouldn't be surprised but you were his fake month old girlfriend and you weren't understanding it anymore.
"Yeah. He talks about you so much all the time I think even we started to date you" he laughed again, yet this time you didn't find the joke so funny. You were frozen in your seat, merely blinking as if trying to put the confusing puzzle together, the pieces not quite fitting the way you thought they would.
A touch on your shoulder unfroze you, almost like magic, like a disney film come to life. You turned around to find the groom, somewhat sober, smiling at you while also looking somewhat concerned. "He's calling for you... And he's also absolutely wasted" he said, pointing to the door of the hall.
"Shit" you cursed, getting up from your seat at a speed you couldn't believe, worry filling your heart, making you forget the conversation you were just having.
Opening the door to the garden outside, you found Max sitting down against the wall, shirt partly unbuttoned and disheveled hair. When he saw you, he grinned, such genuine happiness laced with tipsiness.
"Lightweight" you mocked as you crouched in front of him, trying to balance yourself on your heels, somehow managing it despite your own drunkness.
"You're laughing at my mis- Shit- my misery" his throat bobbed up and down, exaggerating his own agony with a hand on his chest and another on his forehead like a Shakespeare character.
"I have to admit it's quite fun sometimes" you bit your lip as you fixed his hair as best as you could, hands brushing through its soft, blonde mess.
"You're so– you're so sweet" he said, his words dragged and messy. He brought a beer bottle to his lips but you stopped him before any liquid touched them.
"I think that's enough of that for tonight" you grabbed it and placed it behind you, sitting in front of him.
"See now... Now you're being mean" his hand grabbed a strand of your hair and played with it softly as he pouted.
"Okay big boy I'm gonna get you some water" you say, getting up once again, yet his hand stops you, grabbing your wrist tightly.
You looked at him, startled. His drunken state is visible, and it felt frustrating that you had to be the one sobering up for him. The music vibrated through the wall he leaned against, somehow tickling him, making him giggle.
"Stay," he managed to say, eyes half closed, "I'm so glad we're- Fuck things are spinning so much" his hands rushed to his eyes and his head hung low, "Ah fuck. I'm so glad we're datin- Fuck, no, oops-" he continued laughing despite how sick he felt, the whole situation sounding hilarious when filtered through alcohol.
You giggled along with him, mostly because you wanted to see if you could convince him to move, scared he might feel worse or pass out on the cold floor if he doesn't do so. "Fake dating. Fake dating, I know. I knowww" he continued, his words dragged and his finger pointing at you before poking your nose with such innocent sweetness you were taken aback.
"Max" you tried to sound more assertive but found it hard to do so, your own intoxicated state making the situation lighter than what it actually was. Your heart racing was a symptom of it, one you wouldn't feel if sobriety was an option, you thought. Max's eyes wouldn't seem to stare at you differently were he sober as well, and the way he scanned your features, his gaze staying on your lips for longer than expected, wouldn't affect you in the slightest had you not drank some alcohol.
"I like it when you say my name" he looked up at you innocently, pleading, almost.
"Want me to say it again?" you asked, smiling. You complied with these demands because you knew they were childish whims of an intoxicated man, his happiness a priority in times like these. Upon his nod, you started saying his name, half teasingly, half reassuringly, the leaves rustling in the garden behind you.
"Max... Max!! Max Max-"
He shouldn't. It would complicate things, and he liked when they were simple, clean and organized. He knew he shouldn't even when his whole vision spun and his brain convinced him that he should do things he would never do otherwise. But every time he refrained from saying something he would stumble across all his words and trip and fall and his head would only hurt more, and it seemed as if he could only focus if he kept listening to you and talking to you and looking at you.
The lights shone behind you in a way that made it feel as though he was dreaming, like you were a mirage, too good to be true. Maybe his friends were right - you weren't actually real. He wanted to be sure, in that moment. That you were real and that he wanted you as much as he thought. And though he shouldn't, though it was a terrible idea, he couldn't help but lean over to kiss you.
He tasted like champagne - bubbly and slightly sweet, his movements sloppy given his state, yet you couldn't help but drink it all in. Part of you - a big part - reciprocated the kiss, felt his fingers on the side of your neck, pulling you messily towards him, and tried to steady him, guiding him gently with your own lips.
It was odd, how this felt so right yet the fake hand holding didn't. As Max kissed you, that thought entered his clouded mind - did it feel wrong because it was fake and this was real? Your skin felt so soft, so much softer now he could touch it freely and unapologetically.
"Fuck-" he started, pulling away, his head resting against the wall once again as he stared at you, noticing how it hasn't hit you yet; what you just did, how it affected everything. "I fucking love you" he shrugged as you fixed your hair, pausing with arms raised for a few seconds before smiling softly.
"You're drunk" you replied, looking at his own grin, the gleam in his eyes making him appear both innocent and guilty of so many things.
"I'm drunk and I fucking love you"
"Max..." you started, and he said your name back to you with such tenderness you couldn't believe his lips tasted of alcohol earlier and not something sweet.
"We'll talk tomorrow, okay?" you continued, waiting for the silence to swallow you both.
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It's a Match! || 141 x reader
[ Chapter 1 ] || [ Chapter 3 ]
Pairing: Soap x Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1K~ cw: a bit of dirty talking/innuendos Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you?
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Chapter 2: Johnny
“Oh, hello…” You remarked to yourself as your eyes locked into a stunning pair of blue eyes on your screen, stopping your mindless right-swipping. “...Johnny.”
“You’re 29… A soldier… Scottish… Are you friends with Kyle?” You mused playfully. “Let me guess, you’re a gym bro, aren’t you?” You asked sarcastically as you tapped your finger on the right side, skipping through his pictures. The first one immediately after was him lifting while wearing a weightlifting belt. “Yup… Mandatory gym pic.”
Chuckling to yourself, you snap a screenshot of his profile to the girls as well, sending it quick.
leah: @/mia Whatever good energy you sent its working. second hot guy in the last 5 minutes! mia: i lit a CANDLE for this!!!!! leah: there weren’t any handsome guys like this when i was on tinder?! 😫 UNFAIR. 🙄 you: blow it out then cause this is the 3rd actually. leah: 3rd??? Where’s number 2??? you: didn’t think to snap a screenshot. hasn’t matched me back yet. mia: has he posted a shirtless pic? you: kyle did and this one idk but probably. need to check. leah: Don’t forget to send it over.🥴
Shaking your head and laughing in amusement, you went back to Tinder, checking on ‘Johnny’. The mandatory gym pic was there… a couple of them in fact! And then the mandatory shirtless selfie. Or rather… The mandatory shirtless SELFIES. Plural.
Three of them… The first one was him just straight up wearing just a towel… And the next was him in a kilt… And the next was him with a button-up very much so unbuttoned. 
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“Oh, my, Johnny-John-John… You sure know how to woo a bird…” You joked to yourself.
You dragged your finger down to check his bio and immediately frowned. “Of course…” You trailed off with a disappointed frown as you snuck another spring roll into your mouth.
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He might be stupidly attractive, but his personality… Gosh, he doesn’t know how to sell himself. Boring, boring, boring. “I work out and like video games!” You quipped mockingly and scoffed a bit.
“Artist.” You remarked when you reached the last of his profile’s tags, spotting that word in the hobby section. “An artist? You?” You asked your phone screen as if Johnny would come alive in it and answer you. 
You’d admit, him calling himself an artist was intriguing enough, but normally that wouldn’t be enough to make you Swipe Right on him… But you’re not under normal circumstances. You promised your friends you’d Swipe Right on everyone so…
Your phone almost dropped out of your hand as soon as the ‘It’s a Match’ screen showed. “Of course… He’s probably swiping right on everyone as well…” Rolling your eyes, you go to click off the screen but accidentally enter DMs.
Johnny: ye have any scottish in you? you: not that i know of. Johnny: would ye like to? 🫦 Johnny: wait. wdym not that ye know of??? Johnny: i was trying to be filthy and now got me curious bonnie
“Fuckin’ hell…” You said as you set down your phone and covered your face before breaking into a fit of giggles.
The fact you had accidentally ruined his pick-up line and succeeded in stumping him got you very, very amused. Okay, maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t as boring as you thought.
you: story for another time. you: i walked right into that one tho. good job. Johnny: no ye cant do that Johnny: gotta tell me all about it now you: i mean werent scottish people everywhere in the uk at one point? you: i might be 1/370232103484320th scottish. Johnny: would ye like some MORE scottish in ye then? 🫦 you: solid attempt again. you: if you keep trying you might just get there. Johnny: i intend to dont worry you: soooo… Johnny: so? you: were you wearing underwear under the kilt? Johnny: no Johnny: why want a peek? 😏 you: i’m good you: so ur an artist? Johnny: i am Johnny: ur fast at typing fuck you: what kind? you: keep up then! Johnny: drawing Johnny: im trying 🥴 you: can i see some? Johnny: hanging with my mates difficult to text fast 😤 Johnny: idk if ull be in the mood to see anything after im done with ye you: why? 🤨 Johnny: might be too tired and need to be cuddled to sleep 😏 you: oh fuck off. Johnny: u just cursed me out Johnny: i think m in love 😫 Johnny: gonna tell my mates i just met my spouse 🥴🥴 you: don’t give them any ideas. you: haven’t even agreed to meet up with you. you: haven’t been invited in the first place. Johnny: meet up with me 🙏 Johnny: meet up with me 🙏 Johnny: meet up with me 🙏 Johnny: meet up with me 🙏 Johnny: meet up with me 🙏
Your eyes widened at his enthusiasm and persistence. Okay, he was definitely not boring… It was actually kind of endearing and funny!
you: jc r u copypasting that? Johnny: yes Johnny: are ye going to or not you: can i get back to you on that? Johnny: ill wait for ye you: sure you do that johnny Johnny: ow the sarcasm burns
Concealing a chuckle, you clicked off the DMs page for the second time tonight… but, this time, you closed the app and focused on eating dinner.
Sure, this whole dating app thing was stupid, but at least you were enjoying yourself. 
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taglist: @daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthoney , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe
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catiuskaa · 4 months
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need you to [Lee] Know.
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SUMMARY: minho loves you: to him, it’s as clear as water. Its only after he finds out that you’re starting to doubt it—he needs you to know just how much.
REQUESTED! here by an anonnie. I hope you like it, pookie, ‘cause I had fun doing this! <3
CW: slight hurt/comfort if you squint, but it’s just fluffy fluffy lino being really down bad and not knowing how to grasp it tbh which just gives me my serotonin dosis for the rest of the month lol
WC: 1.2k
A/N: also omfg kats posting two requests on the same day? that’s right baby, look at me go! 🤩🤩🤩
[🔅★🌼★🔅]
Minho was not the type to show his affection.
He comes off more like a shy kitten that slowly gets used to you, your sweet smell and how soft your touch feels, and then slowly opens up.
“But, uh… can I be real with you for a sec?”
It’s a feminine voice with a strong accent. He can hear it comming from your room, and the slight glitchiness of it makes it obvious that it’s a phone call set on speaker.
“Sure.” He can almost see you shrug, but he just closes the main door as soft as he can, pleading for the cats to stay silent for a little bit longer.
Minho can’t exactly place together why he’s overhearing your phone call. He knows who you’re calling, he can recognize Chan’s sister by her tone. But still, he keeps quiet, gently placing his bag down and silently taking his shoes off.
“I just— and don’t get me wrong, but, your boyfriend kinda seems… bored of you.”
What? Minho has to hold back a scoff, remaining as still as a statue next to the front door. He’s waiting for you to deny it.
“You think so?”
And then, he frowns, because you didn’t. Instead, your tone sounded hesitant. Dubious.
As if you weren’t sure if Minho loved you.
“You say he keeps cancelling your plans together. He has stopped making time for you. Like, girl, you can’t remember when was the last time he told you he loved you.”
Hannah pauses, and that only makes it worse, because it lets every word sink in.
“I uh, well. I ain’t gonna say that he should throw flowers at you every single second, but, uh, you know.”
He can only hear you groan loudly, almost picturing that cute motion you usually did when he meaningly teased you, taking your hair and covering your face with it.
“Can’t say anything for sure with him,” Hannah adds. “But, just by what you’re saying…”
Minho’s heart clenches tightly in his chest. He doesn’t want to keep hearing this... this nonsense. God, he loves you. And you… can’t see it? Frowning, he starts walking to your room, but his movements end in a halt, his hand just above the doorknob, threatening to grasp it and fully open the door.
“Girl, it’s gotta be late down there. Sorry this whole call was about me.” Your chuckle comes off slightly dry. “I’ll talk to you later, ‘kay? Go get some good sleep.” Your tone just screams how bad you’re feeling, and it just makes his chest swell with guilt that slowly creeps up his body.
Maybe he had been taking you for granted?
He opens the door as soon as you press the red button, sighing loudly after ending the call. When you see him, you jump in your place, startled by his presence, and you stand up awkwardly.
“Minho!” You say in a squirm. He can’t help but cringe slightly.
“No.” His tone sounds childish, like a petty toddler who didn’t want to eat the carrots in their lunch.
You frown slowly, the slightly wary grimace melting on your face, allowing a soft confusion to step in.
“No what?” You mutter.
He walks to you slowly, and grabs your hand, taking it to his chest, pressing it flat against his clothed skin, over his heart. You can feel his heartbeat, a not-too-slow rhythm: thump, thump, thump.
“Call me by a pet name. Any pet name.” He says, his tone equally firm and soft. “Call me by a pet name and say you love me.”
He’s serious, but god, so fucking nervous. His brain is slowly melting away because he’s so bad with words and he isn’t sure any action could be enough. He’s already blushing.
“I, huh… I love you, jagi.” You mumble, still confused.
And even if you don’t say it as fondly as always, or if your smile isn’t beaming like how it usually did, you can feel his heartbeat quickening.
“You can feel it, right?” His eyes are soft and worried.
Oh, God. You just know you’ve gotta be pouting. It’s hard to react with words, and the only thing you can fathom doing is linking your arms behind his nape and sinking your face on the crook of his neck.
“Min, I’m so sorry.”
“N-no, kitten.” He mumbles, hugging you tightly too. “I am the one who’s sorry.”
He breathes in, drowning in your soft fragrance. Home. It’s you, it’s warm, and he loves it.
He loves you.
So, he says it. He has to say it. He can’t not say it.
“I love you.”
And it feels so good to let it out that he chuckles. He has to say it again. “I love you.” And again. “God, I love you.” Just once more. “I love you so much.” He’s giggling like a fool, but he’s a fool in love, and that makes him blush even more. “I can’t not love you. Not loving you would turn everyday into Mondays. Like, I can get it tattoed if you want me to. I just. I love you so much that ‘I love you’ can’t even—.”
You move from his shoulder, now facing him, and you cradle his face, pulling him in a kiss that’s so sweet that threatens to give both of you type 1 diabetes.
“Y-you’re crying.” Minho mumbles, softly brushing the stray tears away with his thumb.
“It’s your fault, silly.” You sniff, giggling too. “How can you say stuff like that?”
Your heart is beating like crazy, the butterflies in your stomach are multiplying by seconds and in your cheeks glistens a bright and deep shade of pink.
You want to say it too. But in his own way.
So, you take his hand and settle it on your chest. Right above your heart.
It’s a rapid thump thump thump that Minho feels right away. He can’t help but smile widely.
“I super-mega-love you.” He teases, picking you up in between his arms.
You’re laughing, squirming in his hold.
“Lee Minho! Put me down!”
But he just grips your body tighter to his, and walking as if you weighted nothing, heading towards your bed, plopping you down there.
“Good girl.” He snickers, and you blush even further. Minho takes your chin tenderly and pecks your lips. For a moment, certain kind of idea flashes through his head, but he just kissed you again, following his previous thought.
He opens your closet with a toothy grin, and halfly eyes the window before picking up a random shirt, a grey hoodie that used to be his, a dark skirt and your thigh-high socks, going as far as to the suspenders for you.
He then turns to face you, his eyes glowing. He can’t wait to see you all dolled up. Minho feels like a teenager, and he loves it.
“You have twenty minutes.”
You blink at him, and you can’t help but smile, confused.
“I’m taking your cute ass to a date.”
It may not be an instant fix to the struggles to your relationship, but as you two walk down the beach, looking for colourful rocks that match each other’s eye colour, you know that he’s worth fighting for.
Regarding Minho, he happily hums to himself, eyes glued to your figure as you cackle and run in the beach, as you look behind you and giggle at the prints your boots leave in the humid sand.
He smiles, running towards you, tackling you and holding you in his arms.
He’s not letting go anytime soon.
~Kats, who always struggles to choose a picture for the fics because istg lino looks good in every single moment!!
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Thinking about Baby daddy!Miguel O’Hara who had the largest smirk on his face when he watched your new boy toy and you leave the pool party, already knowing the awkward tension between you both will only escalate once you're both alone.
Baby daddy!Miguel who purposely goes out of his way to start dropping you a bagel and coffee at your place of work when it’s your weeks with gabi, saying it was on the way to work and how he remembered how you once made an offhand comment about how you never have time for breakfast before dropping off your daughter at school or at summer soccer camp before going to work.
Baby daddy!Miguel started to call you your nickname he had given you during college. First time dropping it casually during a swap, trying to garner your reaction, which was nothing more than a small laugh and a curious head tilt.
Baby daddy!Miguel who (after a few beers with Peter) finally realizes why he’s been oddly territorial over you as of recently. Before a new guy entered the picture, it was as if you two never stopped being together, sure there weren’t any kissing or hand holding, but when it was just you three, it felt like being a part of the family you were a part of pre-splitting up. You and Miguel weren’t like his parents, there was no toxicity or bad blood between you both, just two people who grew apart.
And now, he was drunk, crying on Peter’s shoulder while his friend rubbed his back to soothe him, coming to the realization that he’ll always love you. Because you’ve never given him a reason not to.
Baby daddy!Miguel who is now on your doorstep after dropping your daughter off at soccer camp. A bouquet of flowers hiding behind his back, wearing a white button up, with the sleeves rolled up and a pair of black slacks and dress shoes. Taking a shaky breath before knocking, feeling dejau hit him, catching himself in the same position 12 years ago when he first came to your dorm to ask you out.
Baby daddy!Miguel whose whole world came crashing down when the same guy from the carne asada opened the door instead of you, shirtless. With messy hair and sweatpants that we’re hanging low enough for Miguel to realize what had just transpired in your place moments ago.
Baby daddy!Miguel, whose heart shattered when you reintroduced him as your boyfriend.
Shaky hands, a thin layer of sweat, dry mouth, if Miguel didn’t know better, he would have thought he was sick. His left hand held the boutique behind him while the other fidgeted with the small excess flap of his belt, only to place the hand in his pocket when he heard the sound of muffled steps approaching the door. Clearing his throat as the door let out a faint click sound before opening.
Miguel had to drip hard on the thorny stems so he didn’t drop them out of shock. He tried his best to keep a calm expression on his face. But it seems his poker face wasn’t good enough, because the smirk your boy toy had on his face as he leaned against the door said it all. Despite being shorter than Miguel, he was acting as if he was on top of the world. Miguel blinked out of his trance when he heard your voice say a faint “who is it?” from the next room before you appeared next to him. If the sight of the man next to you wasn’t enough for Miguel, yours certainly sent him on a downwards spiral.
You were in shorts and his shirt.
“Oh Miguel! Hey, you remember Henry, my boyfriend.”
Boyfriend?
“Yeah.” He mumbled with a head nod, to which Henry returned as he crossed his arms.
Fuck.
“Um-sorry, Gabriella said she forgot her good pair of soccer shoes.” Miguel managed to say after clearing his throat, not wanting to make a fool of himself anymore then he probably already had.
To be fair, she did forget them.
Part 3<
Part 5<
Not proofread.
Word count: 600
Taglist: @ginnysculture @mishaglass @wusyanamee @mangoslushcrush @queerponcho @bunnibitez @miguelzslvtz @migueloharastruelove @dahehow @sinners-98-world @othersideoftheparadise @toyfortoji @yeshajane @yvesbi @strawberryjuice9 @hanjisgf @deljojeisbackagain @safixiovi @emmalandry @maxinemus3 @lauraolar14 @aaaaslaaaan
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lightseoul · 11 months
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endearment
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synopsis. first, second, and third instances; it's official, there's something going on with bakugou and you're determined to find out.
cw. fem!reader, pro hero!katsuki, aged-up (26 yrs old), established relationship, a lot of cursing
word count. 1.9k words
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The first time it happens, you don’t think too much about it.
“Bakugou,” you call out from where you’re snuggled on his corduroy sofa. “Can you pass me some tissue?”
From the bathroom, you could hear a faint ‘tch’.
The sound of house slippers colliding with the tiled floor grows louder and louder until he finally emerges with a roll in his hand, which he promptly tosses to you.
You catch it—barely—and grin when you feel the thickness of the 3-ply roll, no doubt a staple in Bakugou Katsuki’s pristine apartment unit.
Go figure.
He’s circling the coffee table and plopping down next to you when your phone rings.
Confused, you pick up your phone to see a picture of you and Kirishima from your last get-together—his caller ID. Curious, Bakugou peers over your shoulder, frowning upon seeing his other best friend’s name.
“Isn’t he on patrol right now with Midoriya?” you ask.
Bakugou shrugs. “Answer it.”
Humming an okay, you click the accept button.
“Hey, Y/N! Is Bakubro with you right now?
You eye Bakugou, who’s pretending to be disinterested and not at all eavesdropping. “Yeah. What’s up?”
Kirishima laughs, “Can you tell him to check our group chat? Limited edition All Might merch just dropped.”
At that, you chuckle. “Got this Ei. He’s actually just beside me right now. I’ll make sure to tell him. And tell Izuku I said hi.”
You can practically hear the smile on his face when he says: “Thanks, bro! You’re the best.”
With that, you press the end call button and turn slightly to regard Bakugou, who’s now staring at his hands on his knees, what looks like a scowl etched on his face.
You poke at his side, trying to be playful.
“Aren’t you curious about what he had to say?”
He shakes his head before standing up and heading—again—to the bathroom.
Huh.
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The second time it happens, it leaves you and your friends bewildered.
“And so that’s how yesterday’s patrol ended up with me getting a special interview with TBS,” Mina says proudly.
You chuckle, amused. “That’s amazing, Mina.”
From where she’s seated beside you in the booth of your favorite bar, she grins. “Yeah, well I try!”
Kirishima, who’s sitting opposite the both of you, chimes in. “You have to tell Bakubro that story.”
“Where is he, anyway?” Mina asks.
You squint, looking through the glass windows of the bar. “I think he’s still searching for a parking space.”
At that, Mina cocks her head to the side in confusion. “But it’s been a while since you guys arrived?”
“Yeah…”
You pick up your phone, thumbing through the contacts until you arrive at the one marked with the red asterisk.
Emergency contact.
You’re in the middle of quickly typing out a where r u when Mina, the ever meddling Mina, peers over your shoulder unbeknownst to you.
“You named his contact…Bakugou?”
Attention divided between texting and talking with your friends, you retort lamely with: “Why? What’s wrong with it?”
“Nothing,” Kirishima pipes up. “It’s just that couples usually save each other’s contacts as sweet pet names.”
Mina nods in agreement. “For example, I have Ei saved as baby, with a red heart.”
Before you can even defend yourself, let alone playfully gag at the nickname Mina has given Kirishima, Bakugou appears at your table, sitting down at the booth next to Kirishima and in front of you, uncharacteristically quiet.
When you lock eyes, you raise your eyebrows ever so slightly— denoting a question: everything okay?—but he doesn’t sustain eye contact.
Instead, he stands up again quite abruptly.
“Restroom,” he explains curtly, stuffing his hands in his pockets before walking away, leaving the three of you speechless.
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The third time it happens, it happens in his childhood home.
You didn’t expect to meet his parents this early on in the relationship; you haven’t even been together for a year. Yet Bakugou was determined to introduce you to them, said something about his sharp intuition telling him something or whatever.
Which is how you now find yourself in the living room of the place where he grew up, poring over photo albums like how dehydrated animals in hot climates pore over water.
With his mother, of all people.
“And this is him when his quirk first manifested,” Mitsuki explains, speeding through the pages of the album whilst grinning. You can’t help but grin back.
She points to a rather old photograph on the last page. “And this one is him playing baseball in 8th grade.”
Intrigued, you move closer to see the picture, smiling when you spot him, crimson eyes and ash blonde locks sticking out like a rose amidst the thorny bushes—impossible to miss.
Wanting to fill the air, you offer: “Bakugou was a very cute kid, Mitsuki-san.”
In a flash, she looks up at you, a puzzled look decorating her beautiful features, instead of the look of gratitude you were aiming for.
When you look back at her with confused eyes yourself, she asks, “You still call each other by your last name?”
“Oh—I—uh…”
You eye Bakugou who’s in the kitchen, chopping fresh vegetables for the salad, as per his mother’s instructions.
You convince yourself that he’s got to be out of earshot.
Stumbling over your words again, you scramble for purchase. “Well—”
To your relief, Mitsuki only laughs good-naturedly in response, cutting you off.
“Don’t worry, Y/N. I know my Katsuki can be a bit intimidating sometimes, but inside he’s a real softie who appreciates the little things.”
You could simply nod in response.
From the kitchen, Bakugou announces: “I’m going to the restroom. Start eating without me.”
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A fourth time does not end up happening.
Instead, you find yourself riding the elevator to the rooftop of Bakugou’s apartment complex, where he’s already waiting for you.
‘I’ll just go ahead’ is what he said after both of you finished cleaning the dishes from dinner. ‘Make sure to catch up’.
Before you know it, the elevator doors slide open and you step out, suddenly becoming acutely aware of the heavy feeling now sitting in your stomach.
Will you finally figure out why Bakugou’s been acting a bit off lately?
You immediately spot him, back turned against you, and arms folded across his chest, resting on top of the railing.
Slowly, you walk towards him, ultimately situating yourself to his right.
A tense—albeit not uncomfortable—silence falls upon you.
Neither of you says anything until you pipe up with: “Is there bad news?”
At that, he finally turns his head to look at you. “Hah?”
You school your expression into a pensive one. “Are you breaking up with me?”
“What?” he exclaims, his entire body now facing you in a frantic hurry. “No!”
You chuckle. “Then what’s with the bad news face?”
“Bad news face?”
Nodding, you continue. “The face you make when you hear or are about to deliver bad news. It’s the more solemn iteration of your scowl.”
“What—” he scoffs, although he sounds pleased, “—You’ve fucken memorized my expressions?”
You shrug sheepishly.
When he doesn’t say anything in return, you prod further. “How bad is it?”
He huffs, breaking eye contact. “No bad news. Just—it’s…shit, never mind.”
“It’s just me,” you remind him. “It’s okay.”
With your reassurance, you can see his body relaxing a little bit, though he still refuses to say anything.
A few more seconds of tense silence pass before Bakugou finally looks you straight in the eye.
“Why the fuck do you call me Bakugou?
You stare at him. “...because it’s your name?”
Whatever he wanted to hear from you, it sure wasn’t that.
He scoffs. “Yeah? Well, why do you call shitty hair Ei or shitty deku Izuku? Have I failed some fucking test to qualify for first name privileges?”
“What are you talking about?”
This is what made him act weirdly the past week?
“Don’t make me say it again, woman,” he spits, although there’s not much venom coating his words.
“God,” he combs through his hair in frustration, “this is fucking humiliating.”
“I call you Bakugou because that’s what I called you back when we were just friends,” you try to reason. “Also, I…I didn’t want to start calling you Katsuki out of nowhere.
“I didn’t know you wanted me to,” you finish, voice small.
“Who said I wanted you to call me that?”
 You shoot him a knowing look.
You stare at each other for a few more seconds before he groans in defeat, turning to face the city skyline instead of you. You follow suit, opting to look up at the stars that seem to be twinkling extra tonight.
Moments pass with neither of you saying anything.
You gently bump his shoulder with yours.
“For what it’s worth,” you start, “I don’t think there’s anything to be embarrassed about.”
He only grunts in response. You press on.
“The fact that you just told me all this…I don’t know. It makes me happy. It’s sort of like saying you care enough about our relationship to communicate even the most ‘humiliating’—your words not mine—of concerns.
“Of course I fucking do, dumbass,” he retorts. “Wouldn’t have confessed to you if I was just gonna chicken out at some point like a loser.”
You smile at him and his words, and you hope your adoration translates to your face, because the thing with Bakugou is that sometimes you have to deliver the message without having to utter the words—all to preserve the moment before it’s adulterated by shame.
“Right,” you look at him, “why don’t you call me by my first name?”
“Figured I haven’t earned it yet,” he says bluntly.
Amused, you push forward. “And how were you planning to earn it?”
He shoots you a glare. “By being the best fucking boyfriend, that’s how.”
At that, you cannot help the delighted laughter that erupts from you.
He side-eyes you, annoyed, though a smile manages to crack through the facade.
“Stop laughing at me.”
And when you don’t: “Hey.”
“Sorry, sorry,” you exclaim, trying to catch your breath. “I’m just happy.”
He studies you for a beat, eyes fluttering across your face as if he’s searching for something. You feel yourself grow warmer under his piercing gaze.
There’s a pregnant pause before he finally says: “Call me Katsuki.”
You grin, “Okay, Katsuki.”
At your mention of his name, the scowl plastered on his face eases a little into a neutral—borderline happy—expression.
“And I’ll call you by your first name…” he declares, “if you’re fine with it or if not, just forget I said that.”
You take his hand and squeeze it before he can ramble some more.
“Sounds good to me, Katsuki.”
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bonus:
“I swear,” you argue while putting on your shoes, “I can ride the subway, Katsuki.”
“At this hour?” he snorts.
“Best fucking boyfriend, remember?” he sneers as he obtains his car keys by the doorway. “Just let me do this for you.”
You relent, knowing better than to fight with Katsuki on the matter of your safety, when suddenly a brilliant idea dawns on you.
Straightening up, you say: “I don’t think I saw you drinking water after dinner, Katsuki.”
“What?”
“Go hydrate yourself,” you command.
At that, he grumbles but submits to you anyway, walking back to his tidy kitchen.
Once you see that he’s in the middle of chugging down a bottle, you call: “Katsuki?”
He grunts—the best he can do while downing a bottle of water—in response.
“Can I call you babe?”
Bakugou chokes on his spit.
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tagging. @katsukis1wife @rinalou @loverboyrin @brunnetteiwik @beabe19
3K notes · View notes
ilygetou · 7 months
Text
MET HER 0N THE iNTERNET | EREN JAGER.
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PAIRING: EREN JAEGER X FEM! READER.
SYNOPSIS: Eren Jaeger met you on the internet & immediately fell in love with your looks, personality and body. He knew his crush on you was dumb and will not last long because come on — online relationships? Those don’t last that long. Until eren found a way to not make it online anymore!
C/W: losing the pwp war, noncon –> dubcon, online stalking, solo m! masturbation, lovesick! eren, possessive! eren, cheating, vaginal fingering, face/throat fucking, facial, brief after-care at the end.
WORD COUNT: 5.9K
NOTE: repost. i know y’all are so sick n’ tired of me but this is going to be the last time i promise 😓😓🤞
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Eren was laying down on his bed, the moonlight illuminating and reflecting on his phone screen as he scrolled through people’s accounts/profiles on instagram. None who’ve piqued his interest, scrolling and scrolling until he came across your profile.
Clicking on your username, he was met with the highlights you have saved on your profile and the three posts you have posted. Eren clicked on the first post–it was a picture of you laying down on your bed, ass slightly up while you had your tongue in-between your teeths with a small smile.
Eren slightly gulped and continued going through your posts, his breath slightly hitching once he came across a picture of you with your thong peeking out from the low rise jeans you were wearing, shirt too tight your cleavage was all out.
Eren quickly zoomed out and went to check your highlights, clicking on the first one which was titled with “<3”, knowing exactly what it meant as soon as he saw a picture of you and another man holding hands. The next story being another picture of you and that man nose touching. As eren continued going through the highlights, the more furious he got even though he doesn’t even know you.
Eren clicked his tongue in annoyance before hitting the ‘follow’ button, maybe, fate might be on his side for once and you’d break up with your boyfriend soon.
The next day came rather quickly and throughout his whole day–eren was thinking about you. He was thinking about how gorgeous you looked, your smile so sweet, your hair styled in a unique way, everything about you was perfect. He couldn’t help but keep thinking about you, despite not knowing who you are.
12:40am.
Eren threw himself on the bed, letting out a sigh before unlocking his phone–clicking on the instagram app and checking his notifications, to find that you’ve followed him back. Eren smiled. Viewing your story to find that you’ve posted a new picture of yourself, it was a full body mirror picture. Your body slightly tilted to the side showing off your ass, you held up a peace sign over your face–you were wearing nike pro shorts with a plain white t-shirt.
Eren quickly liked your story, swiping up to reply–“lookin real’ good” and not even a minute has passed, he has already received a reply from you. “Thank youuu,” eren scoffed at the lack of energy and effort in your reply but then again, he gets it, you have a boyfriend. You shouldn’t be giving into other men’s compliments.
Eren decided to check your following, maybe even try and find your boyfriend’s username since you didn’t tag him in any of your posts.
You were following a couple of hashtags, some celebrities and then the rest were mostly your friends, family and classmates. Eren scrolled and scrolled until he came across a guys’ profile, he had your initial in his bio and a “i ❤️ my gf” pfp. His account was private and you were one of the few people following him. Eren decided that this was your boyfriend and to confirm his suspicions about it he went through your posts and checked the comment section.
A total of almost 200 comments were under each one of your posts and finally, after a few seconds of scrolling he found the same guy bombarding your comment section; “wife” “😍😍” “mine <3” eren rolled his eyes, slightly clenching his fists in annoyance.
He turned off his phone and placed it anywhere besides him. Eren was laying down on his bed, his hand resting on his forehead as he went deep into thought. Thinking of ways to get to know you better and maybe even make you fall in love with him just like how he fell in love with you at first sight.
Then an idea suddenly popped up. Eren quickly turned on his phone and texted one of his closest friends.
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Eren’s fingers dragged towards the “ + to your story” button, scrolling through his camera roll and clicking on a picture of himself after the gym–shirtless and all sweaty from working out. He added any song that seemed to fit and posted the picture on his story. In a matter of a few seconds, eren got a bunch of notifications– “armin_arlert liked your story” “conniethegoat liked your story” “mikasa_ackerman liked your story” scrolling past the notifications and pausing once he got to a certain notification.
It was a notification from you, your username displayed on his screen with a ‘liked your story’ beside it. Eren felt his heart flutter, it was just a small little interaction from you but it still left eren flustered. He did find it a bit odd though, you had a boyfriend and no guy would like it if his girlfriend was liking other men’s stories. Especially not pictures of other men shirtless.
He didn’t give a fuck though. That just means he was one step closer to having you.
Eren took a screenshot of your notification, to stare at it every time he’s feeling a bit down–to remind himself that the girl he’s currently chasing noticed him and knows he exists.
Eren was already working on getting rid of your boyfriend. So he could finally get the chance to slide into your dms again but he needs to have your boyfriend out of the picture; It was simple really, all he had to do was contact one of his closest female friends to get the job done.
And who would he speak to other than mikasa. One of the prettiest girls he knows, his childhood best friend. Texting her & telling her to do him a small little favor; to text your boyfriend and “befriend” him. She obviously refused the request, why would she break up a perfectly healthy couple? And to have you, an innocent sweet girl, fall for eren’s schemes. But after eren’s constant nagging and him threatening her to drop her and waste years of a long healthy friendship made her agree.
“mikasa_ackerman requested to follow you.”
Your boyfriend didn’t accept mikasa’s request until she suddenly messaged him;
“You’re cute. Think you can settle for two?” your boyfriend was confused, how does this stranger know what he looks like when his account is private. He didn’t question it any further though–not when he went through mikasa’s profile. Pale-skinned girl with gray eyes, shaggy black hair that reached her chin and bangs that added more to her looks, her well-toned body that made her more attractive than she already was.
Immediately accepting the request and following her back.
“Thank you, not sure about the ‘settling for two’ thing though.”
Sure, your boyfriend might’ve done the wrong thing by messaging her back instead of just ignoring her dm but come on, men will be men and having a cute girl in his requests–patiently waiting for him to text back, did not make him greater than any man.
They texted for a while, mikasa occasionally sending pictures of herself wearing a sports bra while at the gym or sending full body pictures to your boyfriend to make him fold. All to which were eren’s requests and of course against mikasa’s will. Feeling an aching feeling in her gut every time she had to text another girl’s man made her feel horrible about herself. She was no better than a homewrecker.
Your boyfriend didn’t cross the line while talking to mikasa, yeah sure he was hiding it from you but he wasn’t flirting back. Sometimes, occasionally, on rare events, he’d compliment her. Saying she has a well-built body or sometimes saying she’s “kinda” good looking. But that was all before he found out she lived in the same city as him.
As soon as he found out, the way he was treating mikasa all changed. Becoming flirty with her, washing her with compliments. Doing all that behind the “i heart my gf” profile picture and behind your back as well.
And it wasn’t long before you found out. Eren texted you from an anonymous account, making mikasa send him screenshots and even screen recordings of her and your boyfriend’s chat for more solid proof. You didn’t believe it at first, denying the proof presented to you.
Until you found yourself at your boyfriend’s apartment, tears stinging your eyes as you held up your phone to show him the screenshots displayed on the screen. Crying while asking him if they’re real and begging him to tell you they’re fake, that it’s just someone wanting to play with your feelings. But when you saw the look in his eyes, shame and regret. You broke down crying, asking him why’d he decide to ruin a perfectly healthy relationship over some girl he met online? Were you not pretty enough for him? Did she love him better than you did? Deciding to just leave and not hurt yourself any longer by staying here as your ex-boyfriend chases after you. Calling you and yelling for you to wait.
As soon as you got back home, you didn’t even bother changing clothes–laying down on your bed with your phone in your hands, watching as it buzzed from the calls your ex was spamming you with, along with his desperate text messages. You dragged your finger across the block button, not thinking twice as you pressed on it. Switching apps to block him everywhere. You even deleted the story highlight, removing him from your bio and deleting posts that he appeared in. When you were finally done, your eyes were red and puffy, swollen from crying too much.
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It’s been two days since the breakup and two days since you last posted on instagram. Eren knew that his vicious plan worked, having you dump your boyfriend and getting extra information about you; for example, where you’re settled at.
And what a lovely coincidence, you both live in the exact same city.
eren 🦇
Hey, everything alright? You haven’t been active lately.
Your phone lit up with a notification from; “ern_yger.” You stared at the notification for a while, debating whether or not you should respond to this random stranger who noticed your absence when even your own friends didn’t.
Unlocking your phone and tapping on his notification, dragging your fingers across the keyboard–thinking of a simple, fitting response.
Yeah I’m alright, I’ve just been busy with college.
You clicked send, not thinking twice about your response. Your message has already been seen by eren, you were left on read for two minutes before you saw him typing and while he took his time thinking of a response back you clicked on his profile. You were met with two highlights and zero posts, you clicked on his “me” highlight, feeling your mouth run dry once you were met with a picture of eren shirtless with only a pair of sweatpants and Calvin Klein boxers that peeked out. He was laying down on his side, the room was slightly dim but you were still able to makeout his face. The next one was a picture of his side profile, his hair was put up in a messy bun–his hair also looked soft and messy.
The other picture was taken from a slightly high angle, he was wearing white beaters with gray sweatpants. Once you were about to view the next story, you suddenly got a notification from eren which you accidentally clicked on.
“You sure? I noticed the missing highlights and change of bio.”
If you weren’t in the midst of trying to cope and move on from your past relationship, you would’ve noticed the fake acting concerned tactic men use to get any women they want and in this case, you were in the start of it. And deciding to fuck it and just pour your heart out to this random stranger because you really need it. Need someone to talk to right now and since none of your friends got time for you, you really appreciate eren reaching out to ask about your whereabouts.
You didn’t hold back, venting out your emotions and feelings about your situation. You didn’t leave out a single detail and made sure eren knew exactly how you’re feeling.
Eren was slightly taken aback by your reaction and willingness to share your private life with him. He even felt bad for you, you seemed genuinely upset and hurt but that still wouldn’t make him give up on chasing you. He comforted you for a bit, sending you long reassuring paragraphs. And eren slightly cringed at himself, he has never done this type of thing before—never in his life has he ever had a girl vent out her feelings to him and have him comfort her.
At the end you thanked him a lot for listening to you and apologizing for "being a bother" which eren responded with: “Not at all, I was the one who reached out first, don’t apologize.” You liked the message and thanked him once again before going on with your night.
It’s been three months since your breakup. And three months after you started talking to eren, he helped distract you from thinking about your past partner. He was funny, kind and understanding, everything you looked for in a man. You both even shared the same clothing style, music style and humor.
You didn’t have any bad intentions while talking to eren–you weren’t trying to use him to help you forget about your ex boyfriend. He was the one always texting first, asking you how you are, cracking jokes, sending you songs that he thinks you might like (you always end up loving them), sends you both movies & tv shows suggestions–he says they’ll help with distracting you and keeping your mind occupied from thinking about anything related to your past love.
While eren was the one filled with bad intentions and thoughts. First thing he did in the morning was check his phone for any notifications from you and if he got one, a wide smile would form on the corner of his lips–immediately unlocking his phone to respond back. And if he doesn’t receive a message from you, he’d unlock his phone only to be met with “sent 9 hours ago”, he’d aggressively throw his phone back to his bed. Sometimes gritting his teeth in anger and frustration, stressing over you not texting back.
But as soon as he does get a response back, he’d immediately forget all his anger and frustration from earlier. Telling you that it’s alright and to not apologize once you tell him how you fell asleep because you were too tired and ended up oversleeping which were followed by a bunch of apologies from you. And eren dismissed them, reassuring you by saying it’s okay and he really doesn’t mind—acting like he wasn’t absolutely losing his shit over you moments ago.
Second thing he does is go through your highlights. He has seen the pictures in the highlight multiple times but he still always ends up getting mesmerized by your beauty, way too much that he’d accidentally get turned on. An erection forming just by simply staring way too hard on your photos and eren couldn’t contain himself—pulling out his laptop and logging into his instagram and pulling out your highlight.
He’d zoom in on one specific picture, It was you laying down on bed while holding your camera high in the air–You were wearing a spaghetti straps pink tank top with baggy pajama pants. Your cleavage was all out and was very visible due to the high angle. Your face was mostly the main focus as you flashed the camera a small, warm smile.
Eren cupped his bulge, his breathing shifting from steady to unsteady, letting out shaky heavy pants as he lowered his slacks to where they stopped right beneath his knees. Eren’s eyes were heavy, his eyelids threatening to shut close as he started caressing the tip of his dick, kneading the tip roughly with his thumbs. Spreading his pre-cum all over the tip and slowly coming down to his shaft, massaging his hands up and down his length as his eyes were glued to the picture of you plastered on the screen in front of him.
A moan of your name slipped past his lips, his head slightly thrown back, his eyes were squinted–his hands wrapped around his cock as he messily jerked himself off. Curses and moans kept leaving eren the more he stared at your photo and the more his fantasies about you grew wild. Thinking about splitting you open with his cock while you whine and babble about how big he was, having you gush and cream all over his cock multiple times until you pass out from overstimulation.
Eren fastened his movements, squeezing the head of his cock as you kept flooding his mind and not even 5 minutes had passed and eren was already cumming all over his laptop screen. Staring at the bright screen with half-lidded eyes, his cum staining your picture that was displayed on the screen–he was letting out loud heavy pants, thinking up a way to make you his quickly and fast because eren can’t keep going on like this and it pains him knowing that he lives in the same city as you but still feels as if he was too far away from reaching you.
Eren’s phone lit up with a notification from you, a small smile spread across his lips as he stared back into his laptop screen before grabbing his phone and clicking on your notification. You sent him a couple pictures of yourself, asking him which one to post. Eren felt his heart flutter, staring at your photos in absolute awe. He clicked on each one of your pictures and saved them to his device.
He wanted to tell you to post all of them and that you look beautiful in each one of them but the idea of other men seeing your pictures ticked eren off, he didn’t want other men to see you, just the thought of it had eren boiling up with anger—with furrowed eyebrows, eren aggressively typed you a response back, a not very nice one.
“None. They’re not post worthy and the camera quality makes you look off,” which wasn’t true at all. Eren was sure that even with a poor camera quality you’d still manage to look good.
You stared at eren’s response for a while and then went and looked back at the pictures and the more you kept thinking about his reply the more his words started to seem true, maybe you do actually look kinda bad in these pictures…even though you finally got ready for the first time after the breakup. You did your hair, makeup and carefully selected an outfit for these pictures. You decided to just brush it off, you could take better ones next time.
“Oh okay! I won’t post them then.”
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It has now been six months. You and eren started talking more frequently and even started going on both regular and face-time calls. And eren couldn’t be happier, your voice was soft and soothing, every time you sent him voice messages of you ranting about your day to him, he’d melt from the sound of your voice, he’d replay the voice message multiple times throughout the day. Your voice brings him both comfort and easeniss.
But then again, eren was sick in the head. He was the definition of the word ‘deranged’ but you still didn’t know that yet.
The way he’d wrap his hands around his cock while you two were on a call together, he would be on mute as you talked to him about random things–thinking that eren was listening to you but he was more focused on rubbing his aching, hard cock to the sound of your voice.
Every time you notice the silence you’d ask him if he’s alright, concern visible in your tone. Eren would reply with a shaky, low; “y-yeah” accidentally stuttering which he cursed himself for it in his head. Fisting his cock rapidly as you went back to talking. Eren loves it when you have a bad day, he’d get the chance to hear you whine and complain, sometimes on the verge of tears as you rant to him about your bad day, it makes his cock hard against his pants.
11:10PM.
You posted a picture of you in your story but you weren’t alone in the picture, a young man who looked eren’s age with short, light ash-brown hair with the sides and back trimmed shorter; making them a darker hue. He had small, intense light-brown eyes. His hands were wrapped around your waist making both of your shoulders touch.
Eren’s eyes twitched in anger, his brows knitted together as he swiped up and replied; “Who’s this?” you immediately replied with “A friend of mine! :)” eren left you on delivered, his jealousy over-taking him as he kept looking back at the picture, the way you happily smiled at the camera and the way you willingly allowed that guy to touch you like that pissed him off. A lot of thoughts ran through his head, one of them was marking you and making you his already.
An idea popped up in eren’s head. Quickly grabbing his phone and opening up the chat between you two, completely ignoring what you said earlier and typing out; “You free this friday?”
You opened the text and looked at it in utter confusion.
y/n 🐐
what do you mean?
eren 🦇
I’m asking if you’re free this friday? You know, maybe come over to my place.
y/n 🐐
Come over? To your place? I’m sorry but i can’t.
eren 🦇
Why not? It’s finally time we meet up, don’tya think?
y/n 🐐
We could meet up anywhere else, it shouldn’t be your place.
eren 🦇
What? don’t trust me?
y/n 🐐
it’s not that, it’s just that i’ve never met you before.
eren 🦇
Well obviously you didn’t? but we went on facetime calls and we’ve been close friends for months now. I even helped you get over your ex-boyfriend and you still don’t trust me yet?
Eren stared at his screen for a while, hoping that his guilt tripping tactic works. And to his surprise, it did;
y/n 🐐
You’re right, i’m sorry. What time?
Eren lets out a long sigh that he didn’t know he was holding.
“7pm is good.”
Friday, 7:30PM.
You wore a simple pink dress that reached above your knees with black thigh highs and throwed in a plain black jacket to cover up a bit. You were outside of eren’s residence, your breathing thickened before you reached out to grab your phone to tell eren you’re here.
y/n 🐐
i’m here.
sent 7:35PM.
eren 🦇
doors’ unlocked
seen at 7:35PM.
Your brows furrowed together before you turned off your phone and walked towards eren’s doorstep, hesitantly–you slowly unlocked the door of his house. And once the door was wide open, you were met with an empty hallway, a fish tank that was filled with various colorful fishes that decorated said hallway. “Eren?” you whispered his name as you walked in and closed the door behind you, slowly proceeding further into his place.
You were inspecting the furniture, everything looked so luxurious–that you were afraid to touch anything. You heard chirping noises and decided to follow the sound, a mottled grey colored, medium-sized parrot with a vent and a tail. It had a large black bill and a white mask enclosing a yellow eye, as well as a striking red vent and a tail. An african gray parrot was just sitting there in a silver cage, with his food and water in front of it.
You were admiring the parrot before feeling a large figure pressing his back against yours– “his name is hook,” his voice was deep, it came out as a low murmur, you slightly flinched and turned to face him. “E-Eren?” the teal-eyed man looked straight into you, a warm smile making its way to his face, “mhm?” he went and stood beside you and you slightly moved away to make some space between the two of you.
“Hooks’ a nice name, ‘t fits him,” you turned your back towards eren and went back to admiring the parrot. “You think?” eren tried keeping his eyes at his pet parrot as well but the way the girl of his dream was standing right beside him, in his house, right at this moment–makes him unable to focus on anything that wasn’t you. He side-eyed you to take a quick glance at you, he noticed the height difference between you two, he loved it, it was cute. It turned him on.
Eren cleared his throat which made you turn towards him, “so, wanna come up to my room?” you paused for a moment to think about it before nodding your head. Eren led the way to his room as you walked behind him, giving you an opportunity to look around his place even more. And once you made it to his room, you were shocked by the amount of space and furniture it had. His room was big which made you wonder, why would he need all that space if he lives alone?
His bed was king-sized, it could possibly fit three-four people. He had some posters of his favorite bands, artists and games plastered on his walls, a desk that had his laptop placed on top as well as other random stuff, including studying stationery. His room was well organized and filled with lots of unnecessary stuff as well as another fish tank.
You kept looking around until you spotted a wooden door, thinking of what could be behind that door until it clicked to you–probably a bathroom. He probably doesn’t like going out of his room that much so he designed a bathroom that connected to his room.
“What’dya’ think?” Eren asked before plopping down on the black cushion that was placed beside his bed– “‘ts too big'’ you answered before seating yourself beside eren, he moved closer to you, looking down at your dress, his eyes darting from your top to your thighs, that were half-covered by those thigh-high socks you wore. “I guess but it’s not that bad, is it?” you nodded your head, trying to look at anything that wasn’t eren’s face since he was too close. Way too close that you could probably count his eyelashes from how close he was.
Eren backed up a bit, noticing how uncomfortable you were. Eren grabbed a can of beer from the wooden table and opened it, taking a huge chug out of the can. “Want some?” you gave eren a confused look mixed with a disgusted look, “i prefer water” he playfully rolled his eyes before getting up and placing the beer can on the table. “I’ll go get you some then,” you watched as eren went out of the room–his footsteps fading away.
You sat there patiently before your curiosity grew, wanting to go confirm your suspicions on what’s behind the huge wooden door. You got up, unconsciously walking towards it–you grabbed the handle and pushed it down slowly, making sure to not make any noise. Once you unlocked the door, you were met with a dim room–the only sort of light coming from the three monitors placed on another desk in the room. Three huge monitors that all opened to different tabs.
Deciding to just fuck it and proceed even further–accidentally stepping on something that made a slight crunch noise, looking down and picking it up only to be met with a pornographic comic that had dried up cum splattered all over it. You let go of it quickly, your face scrunching up in disgust as you walked towards the three huge monitors.
You bent down a little to be met with a picture of you which you have posted a while ago displayed on the screen, your throat ran dry once you noticed the gooey white stains on the screen–you looked to the right monitor, an instagram profile opened on it which was one of your years old instagram accounts that you used to own during your teenage years. And the left monitor had the guy you recently posted a picture with instagram account.
You let out a shaky sigh, the guy who you thought was naturally sweet, understanding & charming was the complete opposite. A complete creep, a weird perverted man.
“You caught me,” a mans’ voice came from behind you, making your heart stop for a second–you turned around to face him, eren had a wide smirk curved on the corners of his lips as he leaned against the doorframe, you weren’t sure for how long he has been there watching you but probably long enough to catch your full live reaction.
“What is the meaning of this?” your voice came out low as if you were completely terrified of speaking up; “I don’t know, you tell me” eren walked towards you, shutting the door behind him–you took a step back, your back hitting the wall, eren had completely cornered you giving you no way out. Eren took hold of your chin, forcing you to look back at him–he aggressively moved your chin to the side, allowing himself to give you a small kiss on the neck.
You fluttered your eyes shut, you didn’t try pushing him off as he started nibbling on your neck; covering it with hot, messy kisses. “I’ve been wanting to taste you for so long, been wanting to do this for so long,” eren confessed, making a pit of disgust form in your stomach. Eren slipped a hand under your shirt, squeezing your right breast from above your bra. “Eren please…stop,” you finally managed to say which eren turned a blind eye on, ignoring your pleas for him to stop.
“Come on baby, you’ve made me suffer long enough, don’t ya’ think? Always had to beat my dick to pictures of you but now I finally have you within my grasp, don’t you think I deserve a reward for my patience? Hm?” Eren got on his knees and spread your legs apart, he placed his middle finger on your clit through your panties and started cautiously moving his finger.
You looked down on him with half-lidded eyes, tears pricking the corner of your eyes as you bit your lips to surpass any sounds from slipping. He moved your panties to the side and brushed his digits past your glistening folds before slowly pushing in two fingers into your tight hole, he teasingly started thrusting his fingers sometimes stopping mid-way but the way your slippery walls clamped down on his thick digits encouraged him to continue.
You were out of breath, wanting this to end quickly but the praises eren was muttering made it a tad bit better; “Ah, so good angel, gonna have you cummin’ all over my fingers soon, okay?” “fuck you’re so pretty, ‘ts makin’ my dick hard” he was plunging his fingers deeper into your messy cunt, your silk gushing and dripping all over his fingers. The squelching noises made eren’s cock slightly twitch in his pants as he imagined what kind of things he’ll be able to do to you from now on.
You couldn’t hold in your moans any longer–letting out your moans & whimpers freely as he kept thrusting his finger in n’ out of your pussy, “think..’m close!” you slightly arched your back and squirmed in your place, you placed your hands on your mouth to silent any moans from coming out as you gushed all over eren’s fingers. You were letting out heavy pants, you plopped down on the floor, your eyes glued together not daring to even try taking a quick glance at the mess you’ve made.
Eren lowered his sweatpants–enough for his cock to spring out and slap his abdomen, he moved his hips closer to your face and started rubbing his dick on the side of your cheeks which made you let out a whimper at the sudden warm feeling. “Open up, princess, ‘t hurts, y’know?” he pushed his cock against your lips, smearing his pre-cum all over your plump, glossy lips.
You swallowed your saliva before obeying and opening your mouth, your vision hazy which didn’t give you the chance to make-out eren’s girth. He shoved his cock into your mouth causing you to slightly gag, “s-so good, fuck,” you sloppily started sucking the tip, hollowing your cheeks and bobbing your head up and down his length. Swirling your tongue around his tip while drool dripped down your chin and coating his balls, you moan around his cock while eren lets out soft groans; “so cockhungry, huh?” he snickered–throwing his head back while he was still firmly gripping your hair.
He pushed his cock deeper into your throat causing you to choke a bit, tears rolling down your cheeks uncontrollably, eren started thrusting his hips against your mouth, his dick stretching your throat with every jolt of his hips. “S-Shit,” he sharply inhales, letting go of your hair and cupping both of your cheeks instead. You could feel his cock slightly poking at the side of your throat, a clear bulge.
Moving his hips in a slow, gentle manner–scared to hurt you but the way the head of his cock kept hitting your uvula which caused you to gag around his dick and ruin his steady pace, making his hips stutter and cock slightly pulsate as his shaft land flat on your tongue, “f-fuck, keep this up and i’m gnna’ be cumming all over your face” eren groaned, caressing your face while also letting out shaky moans.
His cock shuddered, twitching inside the warmth of your mouth, “Holy shit…” he mouthened before pulling out his dick with a ‘plop’ sound, your drool was connecting to his tip–your mouth hung open, your tongue stuck out, you were letting out heavy pants as you tried gasping for air. Without any warning, a sudden splash of warm, thick liquid covered your face. Managing to get on your tongue as well, the bitter taste made you flutter your eyes shut in disgust.
His sperm was burning your face, wanting to get it off of you fast and quick while eren was admiring your cum covered face. It stained your cheeks and dripped off your chin, your mascara melted and your lip-gloss got smeared all over your face. He was panting heavily but his gaze still focused on you, half-lidded eyes pierced through you.
“Did so good f’me,” he exclaimed, bending down and gripping your chin before pulling you into another messy kiss. Pulling out with a smug look, you looked back at him with a foggy vision–a small smile made its way to your face and eren heart stopped for a moment, the way you looked at him with droopy eyes, messy face and a smile on your face will forever be engraved deep into his mind.
“Stay here, ‘M gonna make some warm tea for your throat, alright? Clean yourself up, m’kay?” he kissed your forehead before going out and leaving the room, once again. You turned your head towards the monitor, your vision landing on the picture of you, the cum stains making you fill up with shame & guilt even though it’s not you who’s supposed to be feeling like this.
The sound of a notification coming from your phone pulled you out of your thoughts.
eren 🦇
*one image attachment*
Us after i destroy your uterus <3
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lnfours · 6 months
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forevermore | l.n
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summary: the long awaited, highly requested part two to welcome home <3
warnings: fluff all around, lando is absolutely whipped, this fic isn’t helping my delusions.
masterlist | part one
₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊
the morning sun shone in through the bedroom window, which instantly made lando regret not taking your advice on hanging the curtain rod before you both went to sleep last night. now he was really kicking himself as he tried to cover his face with the pillow from under his head, desperate for darkness.
you both were exhausted from the move. you had spent all day and nearly all night unpacking boxes and it felt like you barely made a dent. you both conquered one room at a time, working through the downstairs of the house first, putting all the dishes in their respective spaces, moving things around to your liking. the exhaustion weighed out the happiness and giddiness that riddled your bodies, happy to finally have a place of your own.
the exhaustion didn’t hit till the both of you plopped down onto the mattress that was sitting on the hardwood floor of the bedroom, the bed frame sitting unbuilt against the wall, too tired to care.
after a few minutes, he accepted defeat. he wasn’t going back to sleep anytime soon. in a soft huff, he placed the pillow back under his curls and reached for his phone underneath the pillow, tapping the screen to display the time.
right above the picture of the two of you he had had taken on his camera one night in singapore, the clock read 7:45am. he sighed quietly to himself, not wanting to wake you up as he rolled over to face you.
his sleep filled eyes squinted as he looked over at you. your cheek smushed against your pillow, your hair fanned out behind you as you slept peacefully. he smiled softly, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to your hairline, moving closer to you.
in your sleep, you shuffled, moving closer to him as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder. his other hand traced circles into the soft skin of your leg. he watched you for a minute, pondering about how someone like him ended up with someone like you.
the answer was simple, really. you shared the same soul, intertwined. he brought out the best version of you and you did the same with him. you were each others number one supporters, being there for each other on your worst days.
it made his head spin, suddenly thinking about what came next for the both of you. he had got the girl, finally asked her to move in with him, now all that was left was a diamond ring and white wedding dress. maybe even a dog and a few little ones that would run around and fill the house up with even more laughter and joy. the white picket fence dream, and he wanted it all with you.
your head was tucked under his chin as he reached for the tv remote on the floor beside him, grabbing it and finding something to occupy himself with as you slept on him. he paid no mind to the fact that the pins and needles were spreading throughout his arm, he just cared about how you were comfortable like this. and he’d be dammed if he moved to disturb you.
about a half hour into the episode of his show, he got bored. he pressed the pause button, slightly adjusting so you were sleeping on your back now. he moved to hover over you under the blankets, his hands softly bunching up the material of your shirt. he pressed soft kisses against the skin of your stomach, his stubble softly scraping at the skin.
this is what made your eyes flutter open, smiling down at the boy on top of you, green eyes meeting yours. you squinted in the morning sun, voice hoarse as you spoke, “hi,”
he smiled, chin resting on your tummy as he looked back up at you, “morning,”
you grabbed him by the shoulder, pulling him up to your face. the same smile still sat on his lips as he tilted his head down to meet you in a kiss. you sighed contently after pulling away, hands rustling the mess of curls on his head.
“‘m starving,” he said, laying back down on top of you. you let out a soft hmph as he laid on your chest, his legs between yours and you giggled softly.
“wanna order some breakfast?”
he hummed into the crook of your neck, “inna minute.”
and the two of you stayed like that a little while longer, basking in the feeling of each other under the warm blankets. you were absentmindedly playing with his curls, zoning out as you stared up at the white ceiling above you.
you were home. not only physically, but mentally. he was your person, the same boy in line who had paid for your coffee one morning at the cafe you frequented. the same one who nervously asked for your number after the third day of running into you and making small conversation about your lives and interests.
the boy who you ran up to at the airport every time he came back home and who never really wanted to leave you whenever it was time to go race in another country again.
his movement pulled you out of your thoughts, his eyes meeting yours as he rested his chin on your chest. the stubble he had grown out poking through the thin cotton of the t-shirt you had stolen from him the night before. you smiled back down at him, mumbling a soft, “what?”
“nothing,” he smiled back, adjusting himself so he was hovering over you now, hands trapping your head against the pillow. he bent down, lips meeting yours in a kiss before spoke softly against them, “i love you.”
“i love you,” you echoed back.
his next words flew out of his mouth without his brain filtering it first, “marry me.”
you laughed softly, wrapping your arms around his neck, “what?”
“you heard me,” he said back, nose brushing against yours, “marry me.”
“lando,” you pulled back to meet his eyes, a small smile on your face, “are serious right now?”
“deadly.”
you sent him a questioning look, which showed him that you didn’t believe him. he huffed, getting up from the mattress and walking through the room to find his backpack.
“you know how i went to go visit my parents, right?”
you sat up, watching him dig through the backpack, “yeah..?”
“i was talking to my mom about you- about us, and she said she had something to give to me… fuck, where’d i put it?”
you chuckled softly to yourself before he turned around, a small velvet box in his hand before he kneeled back down onto the mattress with you, “and she said that if i were to propose to you, she wants you to have her ring.”
“lando, i,” your eyes were becoming glossy as he smiled at you, opening the box towards you to reveal the beautiful diamond ring you had complimented his mother on the first time you met her.
“she wants you to have it, i want you to have it,” he smiled, “i didn’t prepare a big speech or anything, but i love you. you’re it for me and i want to spend the rest of my life with you,”
he continued before saying the four words he’d been dreaming about saying you ever since he met you, “will you marry me?”
you hadn’t noticed the tears falling down your cheeks until they dropped onto the blankets under you, a smile on your face as you nodded, “yeah-” you laughed, “yes, a thousand times yes.”
he smiled and fished the ring out of the box, taking your left hand in his as he slid the ring onto your finger.
you pulled him forward, bringing him closer to you and sniffling softly before kissing him sweetly. his hand came up to cup your cheek, brushing away the tears that fell. your foreheads pressed together when he pulled away, bright smiles on both of your faces.
“i love you,” he mumbled, raising your left hand to his lips as he placed a gentle kiss over the ring that shone proudly on your finger.
“i love you more.”
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Haircut
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Summary: Javi thinks that he's way past due for a haircut. You like his hair long for reasons other than his good looks.
Word Count: 2.1K (I sprinted to write this after I saw this picture)
Pairing: Husband!Javi x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n, reader's nickname is Osita)
Warnings: SMUT (18+) Oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, praise kink, (lovingly?) possessive Javi, Javi's back at again with his filthy mouth, hair pulling, Javi is hungry and the man is gonna EAT, allsions to more smut, Jonas Brother's references ( bc Javi is our girl dad king and his daughters love them LMAO)
A/N: Y'ALL REALLY THOUGHT THIS PICTURE OF PEDRO WAS SURFACE RIGHT HERE ON TUMBLR DOT COM AND I WASN'T GONNA DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT?!? WRONG. I legit have 3 WIPS I started in the past 24 hours based on this picture alone. Pedro really did this one for the Javier Peña girlies (gn) and I will forever be in debt to him for that. You cannot tell me that this is Dad!Javi when his kids are a little bit older bc HOLY SHIT?! This really may the nail in the coffin for @notjustjavierpena and I bc really fear this is the dilfiest Husband Javi has ever looked 😩😵‍💫 anyways, never getting over this!!!!
Series Masterlist Never Too Late Masterlist
“God, I can’t even remember the last time my hair has been this long. Lucy keeps saying I look like a Jonas Brother. Am I supposed to know who they are? Is that supposed to be a good thing?” Javi sighed, playing with his dark brown curls in the bathroom mirror as you snuck up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist, peeking out to watch your husband’s longer than usual locks twist between his fingers. 
“They’re the goofy looking boy band on Disney Channel that the girls are obsessed with. Like the Backstreet Boys, except cooler, apparently.” You laughed, planting a soft kiss into the fabric of Javi’s worn t-shirt covering his broad back before stepping next to him, leaning your hip against the bathroom counter to admire your husband as he fiddled with his hair. 
“Jesus Christ, those guys? God, I really do need a haircut before I start looking like the poster what’s-his-face hanging on Lucy and Elliot’s walls.” Javi chuckled, running his hand through his hair once more before mirroring you, his hip resting against the counter, leaning his weight on his palm splayed flat along the granite surface. 
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I think he’s supposed to be the best looking one.” You teased, giving Javi a playful shrug. “Besides, I like your hair long.” 
“Seriously?” Javi asked, raising an eyebrow at you, crossing his arms over his chest in protest. “It looks like a mop right now.” 
“A very sexy mop.” You smirked, nudging Javi before stepping closer into him, reaching up to run your hand through his curls, slowly twisting the ends with your fingers. “It reminds me of that trip we took to Jamaica a few years ago. Your hair was almost this long, remember? You looked so hot in those stupid floral button downs you insisted on buying, and hanging out shirtless by the pool all day while you played with the girls.” 
“Fuck, I forgot about that. I’m surprised we didn’t end up with a fourth kid after that trip.” Javi chuckled, slowly shifting the palm that had been holding him up towards your waist, letting his fingers gently toy with the waistband of your pajamas. “You really like my long hair that much?” 
“Mhmmmm.” You cooed, continuing to close the gap between your bodies, your free hand resting on Javi’s chest as the other continued to stroke his curls. You could feel a low groan rumbling in Javi’s throat as your fingers weaved back and forth through his hair, the other creeping up to cradle his jaw, thumb tracing back and forth across the stubble on his cheek. 
“Yeah? What else do you like about it?” Javi groaned, his hand slipping under the elastic waistband of your pants to grab a fistfull of your ass, kneading the soft flesh in his hand. 
“I like…” You paused, bringing your lips to Javi’s, pressing a tender kiss on his lips, “I like that it gives me something extra to hold on to.” 
“Hold on to?” Javi asked, cocking his head in slight confusion. 
“Hold on to when you go down on me. I love being able to run my hands through your hair when you eat me out, especially when it’s long like this.” You smirked, watching Javi’s eyes go wide in delight, a devilish grin spreading across his face as he bit down on his lip. 
Before you could say anything else, Javi’s hands were gripping around your waist and hosting you up to sit on the counter, caging his body against yours, hands planted around the outside of your hips while his lips crashed into yours, your mouths becoming a tangled mess of tongue and teeth. 
“Fuck…” Javi whispered to himself, pulling away from your lips to pepper kisses down your jaw and neck, running his hands over your thighs. “I love it when you play with my hair, Hermosa. Love feeling you pull on it when you’re close. Makes me lose my fucking mind every time. Fuck, I’d stay burried between your legs forever if I fucking could.” 
Javi began to let his kisses trail down your body, past your chest and across your stomach before he was dropping to his knees in front of you, draping your legs across the width of his shoulders. Pulling at your waistband, you lifted your hips off the counter so your pajamas and underwear could fall to the floor, revealing the wetness that had been pooling between your thighs since you had walked into the bathroom a few minutes ago. 
“Jesus Christ…” Javi whispered, further parting your legs to see the arousal already dripping through your folds, staring up at you with a boyish grin on his face, “So fucking wet for me, Hermosa. Didn’t realize you liked my hair that much.” 
“Oh shut up you goof, you know I- o-oh fuck-” You whimpered, Javi cutting off the rest of your sentence as the flat of his tongue dragged across your cunt, the suddent sensation making you gasp in delight, already playing in to Javi’s plan as your hand shot down to his head, digging your fingers into his messy hair. 
“Better hold on tight, querida. There’s a lot more where that came from.” Javi smirked, pulling away just enough to see the smug smile between his cheeks, peppering a few wet kisses on the inside of your thighs before his head was back between your legs, placing a soft kiss on your clit, already aching and throbbing for more of what you had just been promised. 
“Do your worst, Peña.” 
That one sent a low growl of approval humming through his chest, laughing to himself as his hands gripped tighter around your thighs, fingertips digging into the soft flesh of your skin before another slow, broad stroke of his tongue was traveling through your folds. 
While you were truly convinced there wasn’t another man who loved going down on their wife more than your husband did, you could always tell when Javi wanted nothing more than to stay buried between your thighs, making you cum over and over until you were begging him to stop, lapping up every last drop of you until there was nothing left to give, and right now, you already knew Javi meant what he said when you were about to have to hold on for dear life. 
The hand buried in the dark waves of Javi’s hair only began to tug tighter as his tongue began to work meticulously across your cunt, pressing just enough pressure against your sensitive bundle of nerves to already have you a squirming, whimpering mess, but painstakingly slow enough to have you begging for more. 
“Javi… Oh, shit. Fuck, more baby, please. P-please.” You moaned, looking down at Javi with what you were already sure was a wrecked expression painted across your face. 
You could practically feel Javi’s smug smirk pressed against your cunt as he eased one, then two fingers into your aching core, curling them to bump against the spongy spot inside you that already had you fisting at the edge of the bathroom counter to try and keep your composure, and better yet, your voice down. 
“Oh my god, f-fuck. You feel so good, baby.” You moaned, feeling the strong arch of Javi’s nose bumping against your clit, placing a soft kiss there before the flat of his tongue licked another long, broad stroke across your cunt, putting just the right amount of pressure on your sensitive bundle of nerves as his fingers worked in tandem to send the sweet tingling sensation to start building in your spine. 
“Fuck, I love this perfect pussy so much. I still can’t believe she’s all fucking mine. My perfect fucking wife. Tell me, Hermosa, whose pussy is this?” Javi asked, pulling away for you to see your slick covering his mustache and the lustful look pooling in the dark brown of his eyes, the quiet possessiveness of his tone making your cunt clench even tighter around his fingers as they continued to pulse in and out of you. 
“It’s y-yours, Javi, It’s all- fuck- It’s all yours.” You whined, your breath hitching in your throat as you spoke. 
“And who’s the only one who makes you feel like this, huh?” Javi tutted, sliding a third finger into your heat, the sweet stretch and sting making you let out a ragged whimper as you threw your head back in pleasure. 
“Y-you- Jesus- Y-you are, Javi.” 
“And who’s gonna be a good girl and soak my face when she cums for me?” 
“M-me.” 
“That’s fucking right, you are.” Javi growled before diving back between your legs, working his tongue relentlessly against your clit, circling and flicking in fast and firm motions as his fingers curled deeper into your core, eating you up like a man starved, desperate to make you fall apart. 
You could already feel the coil in your stomach beginning to tighten from the way Javi was working so relentlessly to make you come undone, drinking every ounce of you up as his lips latched around your sensitive bundle of nerves, making your back arch and mind go blank while that all too familiar tingle began to creep through your core, cunt beginning to clench tighter and tighter around him. 
At this point, your fingers were tugging so tightly around the soft, brown curls of his locks to try and hold yourself together, that you were convinced that you were close to pulling his hair out of his skull, but with the way you were on the brink of collapse from the way Javi’s mouth was working against your cunt, you almost didn’t have a choice. 
“Fuck, Javi. Oh shit- Baby, I’m so close. Don’t stop.” 
“I won’t stop, mi amor. Won’t stop until this pretty pussy fucking soaks me.” Javi mewled, peeking his head out from under you just enough so that his sweet, brown eyes were locked with yours, the hot words of his breath dancing against your pussy as his fingers continued to rock in and out of you. “I’ve got you, Osita. Promento. Damelo, bebita. (I promise. Give it to me, baby).” 
Before you could respond, your jaw dropped open and face scrunched in pleasure as Javi dove back in, burying his face in your cunt as each press of his tongue became more firm and precise than the last, feeling your pussy begin to flutter as you clutched tighter around the edge of the counter, trying to keep from screaming out in pleasure and raise any suspicion. But as your legs began to tremble and your heart race, teetering on the brink of collapse, it was taking every ounce of willpower you had left to make that happen.
“Fuck, Javi. Fuck, I- fuck- I’m gonna, I’m gonna-ahhhhhh.” You whimpered, feeling your orgasm crash through you, pleasure radiating in your veins as you fell apart, losing all inhibitions to keep yourself quiet as you threw your head back in all consuming bliss. With his fingers still buried in your cunt, gently working you through your high, Javi shot back up, his mouth engulfing yours in an electric kiss to try and capture your ragged moans that had been coating the walls of the bathroom, the tangy taste of you still lingering on his lips. 
Your heartbeat finally began to slow, your chest heaving in long, heavy breaths as you slumped into Javi, your head resting on his shoulder as your hands stayed buried deep in his hair, grasping onto his now sweat-dampened ends to try and pull yourself back down to reality.
After a few moments of letting you come to, Javi gently pulled out his fingers, all three drenched and glistening with your slick, pulling them out and bringing them to his mouth, sucking them clean with a devilish smirk of satisfaction on his face. 
“God, you taste so fucking sweet. You really weren’t kidding about the hair, huh Hermosa?” Javi chuckled, cupping your jaw to cradle your cheek with his broad palm, forcing your gaze up at him. 
“I told you.” You giggled softly, still trying to catch your breath as you smiled at him, pulling him in for another long, tender kiss. “Hottest looking Jonas Brother I’ve ever seen.” 
The two of you burst out into laughter, practically snorting at your comment, taking a second to compose yourselves as Javi crossed his arms over his chest, rolling his eyes at you. 
“If that’s the fucking case, I’m getting out the clippers tonight.” 
“Not until you take me to bed and do this all again, you aren’t.” 
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satoruhour · 7 months
Text
POCKET P*SSY!
a/n: idk where this came from. tagging @nc-vb @papersirens @crysugu
wc: 2.8k
warnings: fem!reader, m! masturbation (two scenes), use of fleshlight, unspoken feelings, reader listening in on nanami, f! masturbation, brief clit stimulation & fingering, pet names, ambiguous ending, n*sfw under the cut
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nanami kento was an organised, work-oriented man. he submits his sorcerer reports on time, he reports to work right at nine in the morning and clocks out at six o’ clock sharp, his office is prim and proper with all things where they should be and his (various) suits are always pressed and clean, smelling like sandalwood.
so why was the sight of you so compelling and striking that he swears he can hear his heartbeat through the freshly ironed blue button-up shirt? when you’d come to his office in the school to pass him his morning coffee — which wasn’t forced, you did find yourself heading to the café more and more — and the times when you’d engage in simple conversation with him about bread and gojo (negatively).
it was always a breeze to be around you, a fresh air from the intricacies of being a sorcerer. the violence, the bloodshed, the fatigue. but it’s so much of fresh air that sometimes he wonders why he chokes on his words and feels out of breath whenever he talks to you.
nanami has unwillingly checked his phone for the umpteenth time whilst doing his report, glancing over ever so often just to make sure you wouldn’t cancel on that friday drinking outing you proposed to go on with shoko. gojo was undeniably left out of the picture because of his tolerance and the two were the best drinkers in town, but he just wished he could work out the courage to ask you to be alone with you.
but nanami valued his sanity and heart. he wouldn’t know what he would do if he ever lost you to a curse even though you could hold your own, and the amount of sorcerers who are sent out just to die never deserved any of it. but if they didn’t do it, who will?
it’s question after question that’s mixed in with thoughts of you as he stays focused on the blinking cursor of the word document. appear. disappear. appear. disappear. nanami finds that he can’t think of anything else to say in this dumb report, staring blankly yet again at the annoying flickering cursor that reminds him that this was far from done. he glances down to the first drawer of his office table, the brass lock drawing him in. he thinks that he’s not ready.
just as he wants to type his next word with newfound determination, you’re barging through the door with a loud “nanami!”, a big grin plastered on your face with shoko under your arm, trying not to fall under your intoxicating happiness. god knows why you’re so happy, and if he didn’t know better he would think you were already drunk.
“she just got news that her holiday was approved,” shoko nods as she takes a drag from her cig, blowing the smoke into the office.
“please do not blow secondhand smoke into this room, shoko.” nanami’s monotonous voice cuts through the air like a knife and you would think it’s a reprimand, but both of you know the 7:3 sorcerer is just like that.
“why so boring . .” you tsk, a skip to your step when you round the table and peek at the work, and nanami has to ignore the bounce of your breasts under your outfit and the proximity in which you lowered yourself to. he tries to subtly take in your scent, not listening to your question under you wave a hand in front of him and nanami has to break away from his fantasy of you riding him while your tits bounced in his face. filthy.
“nanami? it’s already 6:02, i thought you violently rejected overtime?”
he clears his throat, catching the brief, sly glance of shoko before he turns to you, “y-yes. i do. just give me half n’ hour, ladies, and we can head over to the bar right after.” he didn’t even realise the clock had already striked 6.
shoko puffs out more smoke to nanami’s dismay, “what the hell do you need half n’ hour for?”
“just to clean up this report, promise.” he mutters, pushing up his reading glasses, “i’ll get it done as soon as possible.”
“oh? the great nanami kento doing overtime?” you giggle, reaching over to type a little cheeky “:)” into the word document before waving goodbye a little dazedly as you walk out behind shoko. the pace at which your heart raced matches the man inside at seeing him in his clear, dad glasses.
“you are down bad, girl.” 
“shush!” you swat at her arm and all she responds is with smoke in your face that she laughs and you just huff, heading off back to the morgue where she felt most at home.
nanami never did submit the report on time. he was given a reluctant extension. what was he doing? anything but the report, instead locking the door to his office and lying awkwardly on his office sofa, that was cleverly placed behind a partition wall. it took a bit of discipline — he typed a few words, deleted them, typed some more and realised they didn’t make sense and by now it’s 6:15. he takes one glance to the locked door and to the partition and down to his hard-on with that familiar feeling in his stomach. it’s been long since he’s jerked off, and sure, he has done it mindlessly just to calm the morning wood but it’s been long since he’s gotten aroused by someone.
the man palms himself through his pants, imagining it was your dainty hands instead, a soft groan leaving his lips at the feeling. his pants have never felt this tight, throbbing and just begging to be released as he slowly fishes it out. nanami was big, a pretty little curve to his cock with a tip that’s leaking pre-cum, and he strokes at it, a shaky breath leaving his mouth that it sounds pathetic. here he was, in his own office sofa fully clothed, with one leg digging into the floor and the other propped onto the armrest. 
“f-fuck . .” he swears lowly and starts setting a pace, conjuring up your face as you bob your head over his length while you play with yourself. “right there—”
nanami whines, unintelligible words muttered out as he pumped his cock. he spits into his palm and continues his ministrations with the most lewd noises that have never graced his office before. so many thoughts of you occupy his mind, you fucking yourself back onto him, how sweet your pussy would taste, the sort of sounds you’d make, how you’d feel around him — nanami cums with a quiet, strained groan, hips lifting off the sofa as he spurts his cum all over his suit, and he doesn’t care, too lost in the feeling as he squeezes his eyes shut. the idea of giving you a creampie sounds too good at the moment, how much cum he’d shoot into you, how he’ll watch it drip out—
“fuck my life.” he simply murmurs when he sees the translucent liquid settle in, and yet nanami doesn’t regret it one bit.
the next week is torment. it was particularly difficult, especially after the moodiness you possessed after getting one worded answers from nanami at the bar. he couldn’t even hold eye contact with you, how rude! he was also gone for quite a bit once, coming out of the bathroom all sweaty and out of breath and you wondered if he found a cursed spirit in the sketchy, dingy restroom of the club.
“relax. a thousand yen he’s just stressed out by . . external factors at the moment.”
“but he’s nanami! if anything, that man is internalising all that’s stressing him out,” you groaned into your hands, “also why are we betting on my love life?”
“it’s fun.” shoko defends herself with two hands when you point a finger at her; you go back to your sulking stage soon enough. she merely settles for a hand on your back. “but you’re not wrong. this is just, a little different.”
you only can sink further into your hands when you recall how nanami pulls uncomfortably at his tie, a distraught expression on his face when you asked if he wanted another round of drinks. the avoided eye contact, the conversation mainly existing between them, it was all you needed to know about his feelings of you. the coffees and hangouts meant nothing, and yet you were so clueless at how you’ve awoken something entirely new for nanami that he’s cumming thrice a day just at the thought of you.
another day, another report to fill in. he had dealt with a first-grade curse this time, the casualties, brutal and infrastructure was severely destroyed. it was going to be a hell of a word count, he notes, but what he doesn’t want happening, or rather, the unavoidable, happens. his mind drifts back to you again and everything that you stood for, of your blinding smile and kind gestures. you knew how he liked the right amount of sugar in his coffees and the right place to massage when his upper back was hurting. there was many times he was sure you both had crossed the line of co-workers and lovers, but it was never spoken or defined.
it was a grey area, he admits. tethering along the lines that he wasn’t even sure was there any more: a gaze held longer than usual, a brush of your hand on his, the not-so-secretive glance at your ass, the quick gaze from his eyes to his crotch when gojo makes a dirty joke. it was already between the lines, yet none of you wanted to act on it.
nanami groans into his hands, taking one more look to that locked drawer, thinking it would magically unlock itself and he wouldn’t have to go though the torture of submitting to his desires and unlocking it like a sex-crazed man in the victorian era after seeing a woman’s ankles. it was humbling. but his mind seems to have a different plan, descending into fantasies that he would rather take to the grave than let gojo pry out of him and he shoots up, fumbling for the key hidden under his documents.
within a second, nanami unlocks it and lets out a breath and takes out a box — a hilarious (at the time) but stupid, stupid thing (it was a fleshlight) he let gojo talk him into buying while they were both drunk. but the more he looks at it, the more he wishes to feel your walls around him and his bulge is not going down. he takes out the fleshlight eagerly, looking at it with wide eyes before he swallows and nanami feels like a teenager again.
his heart pounds when he removes his pants. his laptop, open with his undone report and him standing wide-stanced in front of his desk like a loser and his underwear pulled down just enough for his cock to spring up, you would think he was an alien from another planet. nanami does away with all rationale when he slaps his tip along the pocket pussy, thinking it was yours before his tip slips in and he gasps. the sorcerer stumbles forward and he has to rest a hand on his office chair.
“gojo, you fucking dick,” nanami hates that he’s enjoying it. “haah . . shit—” 
he pushes it down his shaft and the instant pleasure is prominent. soon, nanami is moving the fleshlight over his cock, walking with unplanned steps to the sofa. he falls into it easily, hands still pumping the device along his dick and he already wants to cum from the tightness.
“fuuck . . baby,” there are soft pants that leave his mouth, the device already filling up with all of his pre-cum. the slick noises that dominate the room is loud. nanami is too far gone in this, hips thrusting up into the fleshlight with all his might as he imagines it’s you straddling him instead. biting down on his fist does little, sure he was drawing blood from how hard he was sinking his teeth into the skin there. the way he slips inside feels so much better than his hand, and yet there was something missing — your sounds, the sight of your pussy. he needed to know he’s making you feel good. he cums with a cry of your name and mixed in profanities, pelvis basically rutting into the pussy as he shoots his load deep inside. 
and it doesn’t end there for nanami — like a deranged man, he’s grabbing his cushions and stuffing the pocket pussy in between it and the sofa, dragging his tip along the silicone clit. this shit was embarrassing, fucking something fake just so he can simulate the fantasy of being in you, but it felt fucking divine, so much so that the soft “nanami?” doesn’t even reach his ears. he reenters the pocket pussy, body hunched over the sofa as he presses down on the couch cushion and wishing it was your lower back.
the long, loud groan nanami lets out sends a straight chill to your core and you hear it before you see it. you think maybe your chances are ruined, he has someone else and the dancing around each other was done just for fun, but you think a little peek wouldn’t help. your self care sessions are getting a little boring anyway.
the gasp doesn’t reach his ears either when you glance around the partition and you get the sight of your life: nanami thrusting into the sofa while still fully clothed, eyes closed and expression pulled into pleasure. you’re torn between arousal, modesty and relief and despite all that you still listen out for how turned on he was, the gross, dirty sounds of him rutting into something and yet you don’t know what. but you decide to play it safe, flipping back around to rest your back against the walled partition, hand reaching up your skirt and into your panties.
“(y/n) . . baby, g’na cum—” 
your eyes widen, your jaw drops but your hand on your clit never stops, rubbing in time with his thrusts as your other hand is probably making marks on your face by how hard you were trying to stop your moans from coming out. you’re already so wet that your ministrations are all messy and smeared, drawing haphazard circles just for a taste of that high as you soak and soak your panties.
“baby, baby, baby . . o-oh—” you swear under your breath, because who knew nanami kento could sound so damn good? you’re continuing the assault on your pussy, going past your clit and into your entrance and you wish it was his cock instead, but instead he’s fucking a pocket pussy imagining it’s you. too bad you don’t know that. “gonna cum in y-you—”
there’s a little crack in his voice and you involuntarily let out a soft moan and the movements are halted all of a sudden. in your panic, your foot spreads and the bottom of your shoe grazes against the wooden floor and your presence is fully made known, now.
“hello?” man, what the fuck? now they’re really not going to answer. nanami sifts through the possibilities: it couldn’t be any of the men, they know not to interrupt nanami when he’s working. shoko would only for alcohol . . you? you dig a deeper grave by making an incoherent noise in your throat and that’s when nanami’s fear really settles in. he wasn’t hallucinating anything — there really was someone calling out to him the first time and the gasp and now the little moan? but nanami has anything but luck, not being able to catch the person because you’re booking it out of there immediately, not exactly quiet due to the clicks of your heels and you want to go back into that exact grave to die.
you can hear and feel your heart in your throat, back lined with sweat more than it would be when fighting a curse. whilst, there was only one thing on your mind that slowly induces you into a downward spiral; he called your name, your name, your god-given name, the people address you by, he called—
standing by the little zen garden of the tokyo school, you can feel your clit throb and the breath taken out of you as the vision replays again and again in your head and you think yourself stupid for running out of there. but before you can turn back, gojo’s approaching with a big, shit-eating grin on his face and waves to you (“yaga told me to come get you, you’re not busy, are you?”).
swallowing, all you can do is shake your head, but not before you spare a last glance to nanami’s door which is now closed shut. you hear a click.
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ohimsummer · 4 months
Text
✎ . . .❝ WOW, ALL FOR ME, BABE?❞
— minors dni, recording, sending nudes, mentions of blowjob (flashback) fem! masturbation, implied blackmail?
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the sweet tranquility of your study session is interrupted by what was supposed to be a phone on do not disturb.
‘vrrrrrr!’
traces of light shine onto the desk, prompting you to turn the device face up and give in to a little distraction. a groan leaves you immediately at the sight of “suguru ‼️🖤” —a name you did not set willingly— popping up on your screen.
suguru‼️🖤: send satoru a nude or smthg
your brows knit together, befuddlement dragging across your features. you’re holding the power button when three more texts show up.
suguru‼️🖤: he’s stuck with his dad or whatever, surprise him
suguru‼️🖤: if not i can send this instead…?
suguru‼️🖤: 1 attachment
sighing in defeat, muscle memory fills in your password, and you head to the messages only to immediately be met with a thumbnail of your crying face, stuffed full of geto’s cock. memories of the occasion come tumbling back, a night geto visited your room out of boredom and had you suck him off for hours under the threat of destroying a project worth a huge chunk of a class’s grade, something you absolutely couldn’t afford to fail. pulling your hair, fingering your pussy, fucking your face and, most notably, making you denounce gojo in between gags and feeble cries.
‘tell me how good you feel’ his soft voice murmurs into your ears. ‘so much better than with satoru, right?’
and you nod, you have to, unless you want geto to deny you another orgasm. ‘y-yes, ge-, suguru, you’re so much better, i promise.’
gojo would, without question, spend an entire night destroying all 3 holes in your body if he even caught a glimpse of that video, and so you set your books to the side, pulling your shorts down silky, plush thighs, and angle the camera in a way to get a good pic of your cunt. you have the unfortunate expertise of sending gojo nudes before, so you know exactly what he likes.
it only takes a few minutes of rubbing over your clit through your panties before you’re soaking wet, thoughts of porcelain white hair, strong, muscled arms, and a familiar grin dancing around the edges of your mind even though you’d prefer to think of anything else. finger trembling over the screen, you hit what you assume is the white button for a photo, phone still upright in your grasp as your fingers tease into your dripping hole. one, two are all you can manage before it becomes too much.
‘satoru..!’, you mewl into your pillow as an orgasm quakes down your spine.
you barely look at the screen as you send him the picture, huffing and panting and blinking away the blurriness of your vision. after a few moments to recollect yourself, you sit upright preparing to go clean up in the bathroom, before a set of buzzes grabs your attention.
SATORU💙💙: WOW ALL FOR ME BABE??
you start to shake your head at the overreaction to some quick photo of your pussy, before noticing the large play button over what you’ve sent. your heart plummets, because surely you did not just bless gojo of all people with a video of you moaning for him, but his next texts confirm your suspicions.
SATORU💙💙: fuck that’s so hot i love when you say my name
SATORU💙💙: CANT WAIT TO SEE YOU TOMORROW PRINCESS 👀👀
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tagz: @anthoosies look babes 👀
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tatsumessy · 1 year
Text
Missed calls - {itoshi sae}
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“gosh you’re so fucking annoying. I wanted to call my girlfriend so that I could calm down from the huge amount of stress I’m already under and here you are acting like a nagging clingy psycho.” before any other words could be spoken you hung up the phone placing it on the nightstand.
Sae <3: I’m sorry.
Sae <3: y/n?
1 missed call
5 missed calls
12 missed calls
20 missed calls
hearing your phone ring once again you picked up up furiously screaming into the phone. “WHAT?” you yelled out of character, there was silence before he spoke, “you’re ignoring my calls.” without answering you slammed your phone on the nightstand not before turning on do not disturb.
you and sae had gotten in a pretty heated argument which ultimately ended with you hanging up the phone and ignoring it. he is in the states right now for a tournament so he can’t come to you. usually his sullen, dull, asshole personality would be just fine because that’s what you’re used too but this time he went too far.
he seemed like he didn’t even care. he wasn’t due to come back until next month so you opted to block his number leaving him with his “issues” that he has to deal with. if he thinks you’re clingy, fine. you’ll just go on about your business and leave him to do whatever he wanted. he always acts like he doesn’t want to be in a relationship so why not give him the freedom he’s wanted.
sae the moment those words came out his mouth felt like a dick. you were only worried because he had gotten trashed in an interview and it was shown on tv everywhere. he was frustrated and took it out of you, he knew the choice of words that he spoke was wrong but he said it anyways.
after you hung up on him he decided to wait until the morning to talk to you but his text weren’t going through and his calls weren’t either. “I’m sorry, the number you have dialed-” he tossed his phone on the hotel bed grabbing his head in frustration. his day was already starting horrible, usually you two would call each other in the morning and talk about what you’d do during the day so that you two knew when to call each other later.
two weeks passed and at this point he had called your number at least 40 times a day. any free second he had he would call you or text you, this is the longest you two had ever gone without talking to each other and he was seriously getting worried. getting back to his hotel for the night he laid down on his back holding his phone above his face. his phone was basically stuck on your contact card and that was the only form of you he had besides the endless albums of you in his photos or his rotating lockscreen picture.
he backed out of your contact and went to his brother’s reluctantly pressing the call button and waiting for him to answer. “what?” he spoke and sae was already rolling his eyes at his brother attitude. “can you check on y/n?” rin let out an annoyed sigh and sae could hear shuffling on his end of the phone. “y/n are you okay?” he heard you say yeah in the background confused then he heard more shuffling before rin spoke up again.
“she’s fine.” he was about to hang up but sae needed to ask, “why are you with y/n?” “we have dinner ever sunday together.” before any more questions could be asked rin hung up the phone leaving sae feeling more empty than he already was.
a month passed and now with him coming home he was excited to see you but he needed to win this game before going home to you.
you were sitting in your car outside of the stadium debating on whether or not you wanted to go in. you had never missed any of his home games and you didn’t want to start, you just kept going back to your argument. the night sae called rin, that was the only time he had ever come over to yours and sae’s apartment for dinner. you had spoken to him about what happened and even though him and his brother aren’t really that close he gave you good advice.
“sae is an asshole, that not a secret. he doesn’t think before he speaks and doesn’t think about the damage his words can cause. all I have to say is he has never called me for anything relatively important but he just called me to ask if you were okay. I can’t speak for him, he said what he said and now he’s paying the price for it. only speak to him when you are ready.” he ended with that before leaving.
last night when you unblocked his number all the messages and missed calls that you missed flowed through your phone all at once. tears prickled on your bottoms lash line reading all of his text messages. the last one had you crying yourself to sleep while hugging his pillow.
sae <3: this is the last message I’ll send tonight. tomorrow we’re coming back and I would love to see you. I know you are probably still upset with me and I would be too. I hurt the person I love so bad to the point where we haven’t spoken in a month. I miss you, I love you and if you come to the game and even though I’m we haven’t worked things out, if you wear my jersey tomorrow I’ll know that we’ll be okay. sweet dreams princess i love you.
he was right, you were still pissed but you missed sae, prior to the argument he’d been gone for a month already and that made you miss him so much more. the sheets didn’t smell like him anymore nor did his pillow. you wanted sae back but you weren’t going to make it easy for him. unzipping your jacket you slipped the long sleeve over your head then pulled down the mirror to fix your hair and makeup.
~
you sat in the VIP section in your normal seat playing on your phone until the game ended. everyone stood up leaving the area while you stayed put, you could see sae being interviewed by someone but because of the distance you couldn’t tell if he was actually paying attention which irked your nerves. he was always so rude to people whenever they interviewed him but went through with them because you asked.
a couple of minutes passed and once almost all the people were gone you noticed sae started to walk towards your direction so you stood up and walked down the steps stopping at the railings that was separating the two of you. “y/n…” he spoke stopping right infront of you, looking at him you kind of glared trying to hide how much you missed him. more silence filled his ears and out of defeat he dropped his head taking a deep breath.
suddenly a small quiet sniffle sounded and he looked back up with tears in his eyes. “I can’t lose you, I fucked up I know I did. if you want to punish me some more then do it but please stop ignoring me I physically can’t do it anymore, I can’t live without you.” standing there you looked at him in shock, he’s never cried before especially over something like this.
“meet me in the tunnel.” “no.” he quickly responded jumping up and climbing over the railing. he landed immediately taking you into his arms, you gasped at his action but ultimately wrapped your arms around him gently rubbing his back. for a quick second you could feel him shaking but you may have been imagining it.
he pulled back keeping his arms wrapped around you so that he could admire what he missed in these two months. “you look gorgeous, I love you princess.”
“I know you do, you and your 1,882 calls” he laughed awkwardly as you pressed a small kiss on his sweaty jawline smiling up at him. “I love you too.”
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milfsloverblog · 8 months
Note
Hii!! I have a Larissa x reader request. Larissa is in her late forties, has a shit ton of money (cause that woman screams money) and she's also a tad lonely, so she decides to find herself a sugar baby and that's where reader comes in, they are broke, almost finishing college and in need of quick money. I really just need this woman to pamper me with money and love and good sex, lots of mommy kink and out of the bedroom dominance pretty pleeeeeaaassseeee
Secret Benefits (NSFW)
Part 1. (Next part)
Larissa Weems x fem!reader
A/N: Anon, I loved this request so much I’ve decided to turn it into a multiple chapter fic. We’re mostly setting the scene in this chapter, but I added a tiny bit of smut. Thanks for the request, enjoy!! <3
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You didn’t feel very proud as you clicked on the “sign up” button on the app your best friend told you about. You typed in your information - Name, age, height, weight, eye and hair colour. It did feel like you were only a product to be bought but it was what you were looking for, after all.
You filled in the “looking for” section - women, preferably. You didn’t care much about height or weight or anything like that, really, although you hoped you would be able to at least find someone attractive. But you couldn’t afford to be too picky.
It did feel like signing up for a normal dating app until you reached the “monthly income” criteria. This was by far the most important criterion, the one that had led you to this website, and yet you didn’t know what to answer. You stared at your phone screen for a moment before eventually typing in “Minimum $3500”. It felt like a correct amount, enough for someone to take care of themselves and you as well.
You uploaded a few pictures, a couple of selfies and one where your whole body was visible. You probably would have more chance of quickly finding someone if you uploaded a more revealing picture, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Not yet.
You took a deep breath and clicked on the button that would make your profile public, watching the message that popped up on your screen - Welcome to Secret Benefits, the number one sugar dating app in America.
Your profile had only been public for a few minutes when you received your first like and inbox message. A man saying he would pay you a thousand dollars a week and didn’t want anything in exchange, only to chat with you. Your friend had warned you about this kind of scam so you simply rolled your eyes and reported the profile.
Browsing through the app you quickly realised that most people on there were men over forty searching for a pretty thing to parade around with. You knew it was the whole point of this app and those kind of relationships, but still.
It felt like you had been scrolling for hours when a profile finally caught your eye. Larissa, 48. Her picture was what first caught your attention. The woman was half-turned from the camera, holding a glass of red wine in her hand. Her white hair was tied in an intricate updo, her lips painted with a crimson red that matched her nails and her blue eyes fixed on the camera as if she had caught the photographer in the act of taking her picture. It almost felt like she was looking right at you. She looked beautiful.
You clicked on her profile, hoping to learn more about the woman. You read her body description, eyes widening when you reached the height criteria and read that she was 6’3. She looked like the type of woman who enjoyed wearing heels and you felt dizzy at the thought of a two metres tall woman towering over you.
You noticed that she had picked “Unspecified” for the monthly income. You weren’t sure what that meant exactly. Was she wary about sharing her income? Strange, given the kind of app you were on. Or perhaps she was old money. She did look wealthy, the kind of woman who would have grown up in a rich family and inherited it all.
She had listed a few of her interests in her bio. Art, luxury fashion and haute couture, feminism. There was a single sentence written underneath, one that had your breath hitch in your throat.
“I call myself a hedonist, I seek utmost pleasure in everything I do.”
And that was enough to have you hooked. You didn’t care about the other thousands of profiles on the website anymore. You only cared about her. Larissa, her sapphire eyes and crimson lips, her hedonistic lifestyle and promise of utmost pleasure, and most importantly - her money.
You clicked on the little heart next to her profile picture, like your friend had told you to do. Now you were supposed to wait and see if the woman would like your profile in return. You could have sent a private message straight away, but your friend said it was better not to, it would make you look too desperate. I am desperate, you thought.
It was only hours later, when you were freshly out of the shower and about to get into bed, that your phone pinged and you quickly grabbed it to check the notification.
Larissa liked you back! The start of a beautiful story?
You stared at the notification for a minute, what were you supposed to do now that she had actually liked you back? You weren’t even expecting to get that far when you signed up.
You sat down in bed still wrapped in your towel and took a deep breath. How were you even supposed to engage in a conversation with a woman like her?
Your fingers hovered over the keyboard for a while. Everything you could think of sounded lame and you even considered calling your friend for some advice but it would have just been embarrassing.
You: Hi there! I came across your profile and was very intrigued by your sophistication and the way you described yourself. How has your day been?
That wasn’t too bad. At least you hadn’t sent a cheesy pickup line.
The little “seen” quickly appeared under your message and you bit your lip in anticipation.
Larissa: Good evening! Thank you for reaching out. My day's been quite busy with work, but I'm always up for interesting conversations. How was yours?
Okay, she had answered. She had liked you back and she had answered. Great, it was great.
You: I'm glad you're taking the time to chat. My day's been mostly filled with classes and hanging out with my friends, a normal day in the life of a college student haha. What do you do for work?
Larissa: I’d rather keep my work private, at least for now. But I promise I’m not doing anything illegal! College student, what do you study?
Well, that was a bit strange, although you could see why someone wouldn’t want to share their work field on this kind of app, there was no doubt those arrangements could ruin some people’s lives.
You: Sure, no worries! I study marketing. It’s not always easy but I enjoy it for the most part. I’m really curious about what brings you to this app?
The message was read almost instantly but it took the woman a few minutes to answer. Was she hesitant? Searching for the right words?
Larissa: I appreciate your curiosity. I'm mostly looking for a mutually beneficial arrangement where we can both enjoy each other's company and experiences. What about you? What are you looking for on here?
A mutually beneficial arrangement, that was certainly one eloquent way to put it.
Larissa: I'm seeking someone who can support me as I navigate my studies. I live on my own and have a job on the side but it’s getting really hard to finance everything alone. Plus, I think having someone older in my life, someone with more experience, could only be beneficial. It’s all about benefits and enjoying the finer things, isn’t it?
Larissa: It is! I suppose it’s the main reason why so many young women are on this app. Tell me, what do you enjoy doing in your free time?
You: Well, I honestly don’t really get much free time. But I like to sit down with a nice book whenever I can. I enjoy going for walks and I could spend hours in the kitchen cooking and baking. What about you? Any favourite ways to unwind?
Larissa: I don’t get much free time either if I’m being honest. I’m a busy woman. I do enjoy sitting by the fireplace with a book and a glass of red, one of life’s simple pleasures. I love exploring art galleries, trying out new restaurants and I sometimes, although very rarely, indulge in spa retreats.
Spa retreats? These things cost a fortune! You were lucky if you could indulge yourself in a night out with your friends!
The two of you kept exchanging for a while. You learnt that Larissa was British, that she had moved over here for her studies. She loved travelling, had been to many places around Europe and was a big fan of French cuisine. She felt like the kind of woman you could listen to for hours without ever getting bored.
It was getting late, your eyes were practically closing themselves and you knew you would be absolutely exhausted in the morning, but you didn’t want the conversation to end.
You had been talking for nearly two hours when the woman asked if you had ever dined at Ambrosia, a restaurant way out of the centre of Jericho. You snorted loudly as you searched the restaurant on Google and realised it was a gastronomic one. Did she really think you could afford that kind of place?
You: No, I’ve never been there. But I’ve just googled it and it looks like a nice place!
Larissa: It’s my favourite restaurant in Jericho, I think I must have tried everything on the menu by now. Would you like to join me there for dinner, let’s say on Saturday night?
Saturday night? You quickly checked your schedule, you were working at the bar that day.
You: I would love to, I really would love to, but I’m working that day and I can’t miss a shift…
Larissa: If it’s about the money, you don’t need to worry. Call your work tomorrow, let them know they will need to find someone to fill in for you on Saturday.
You swallowed thickly. What if this was some joke? What if you showed up at the restaurant and she wasn’t there? You would miss your shift, and lose money for nothing. But if she did show up…
You: Fine, I’ll call in the morning. What time should we meet at the restaurant?
Larissa: 6.30 pm? If you give me your address I will have a car sent for you. However, I understand if you feel wary about giving that kind of information to a stranger.
You did feel more than wary about giving her your address. For all you knew it could be some creep hiding behind that profile. But if you didn’t take the leap, you might miss a great opportunity. So you did it, you sent Larissa your address and thanked her for wanting to send a car.
Larissa: Thank you, darling. The car will pick you up at 6. I should probably let you get to bed now, I wouldn’t want you to fall asleep during one of your classes. Thank you again for reaching out, it’s refreshing to connect with you.
You: Thank you, Larissa. Likewise, I enjoyed our conversation. See you on Saturday!
You closed the app and took a deep breath. You were insane, absolutely deranged. Who in their right mind would agree to something like this so quickly? You groaned and pulled the duvet over your head. You’d think about this later, all you wanted at that moment was to sleep.
-
Saturday couldn’t come quickly enough. Your friend had asked you if you’d had any luck on the app yet and you lied, telling her that no one seemed interested in you yet. Maybe you would tell her about your meeting with Rissa once it’d be done. Maybe.
You had exchanged a few more messages with Larissa the next day, just to keep in touch and let her know that you were looking forward to meeting her, and so was she.
The doorbell of your flat ringing woke you up early on Saturday morning. You quickly threw on some pyjamas and went to open, your eyebrows shooting up when the courier handed you a big cardboard box.
“What the hell?” You whispered to yourself as you placed the box down on your coffee table.
You grabbed a knife from the kitchen drawer and carefully cut the tape, holding your breath as you opened the box. There was a small note on top of something wrapped in gold tissue paper.
I picked you an outfit for tonight, I had to guess your size using your pictures but I’m pretty certain it will fit. I suggest wearing a pair of black heels with it. See you tonight, darling.
-Larissa
You had to read the notes a few times to make sure you weren’t just making things up. She had picked you an outfit, really? Did she think you couldn’t dress up on your own? Well, to be fair you weren’t sure you had anything chic enough in your wardrobe, but still.
You carefully opened the tissue paper and your breath hitched as you unfolded the black slip dress that she had picked for you. The silk fabric felt incredibly soft under your fingertips and the lace trim on the neckline was beautiful.
“Simone Rocha.” You read the tag out loud. The name did ring a bell somewhere in your mind, was that a designer dress? Well, at least now you knew the woman was serious about taking you out for dinner tonight.
You were about to close the box when you noticed there was something else in there. You picked it up, eyes growing wide at the sight of a burgundy thong. It was beautiful. Made out of lace and embroidered with floral details, it probably cost more than your whole underwear drawer.
You bit your lip looking at the two items of clothing in your hands. Maybe you could get used to this lifestyle.
-
The car sent by Larissa arrived at your place at 6 pm sharp. You quickly put on your heels, fixed your lipstick, and took a last look at yourself in the mirror. The dress fitted you like a glove and you had rarely felt that beautiful in a piece of clothing, you looked expensive.
Hundreds of thoughts were rushing through your brain as you sat in the back of the car and absentmindedly looked outside the window.
And suddenly it hit you - would Larissa be expecting sex from you? Your eyes widened at the possibility. You had not talked about this. Sure, the woman had said she wanted someone to spend time with, but spending time with someone could mean a lot of things!
You were almost thinking about changing your mind and going home when the car pulled over and the driver let you know that you’d reached your destination. You took a look at the building outside and swallowed thickly. There was no going back now.
You thanked the driver and stepped outside, taking a deep breath of fresh air. You were halfway to the restaurant door when you heard your name being called, causing you to spin on your heels.
“Larissa?” You asked as your eyes landed on the woman walking towards you. She looked just like her picture - tall, elegant, beautiful.
“Yes!” She smiled and nodded.
Noticing that she looked you up and down, you allowed yourself to do the same. She was wearing an emerald fitted dress that perfectly hugged her waist and hips. Her legs had to be the longest you’d ever seen, they seemed to go on and on until you finally reached the silver heels that were on her feet.
“It’s nice to meet you.” You smiled back, feeling a bit awkward and not knowing what to say.
“Likewise.” Larissa answered and pulled the door open to let you in, her hand falling on the small of your back as she followed you inside.
Everything inside the restaurant reeked of wealth. The high ceiling, the polished wood floor and the leather seats. You were out of place and you felt like everyone around you knew it.
“Miss Weems, good evening!” A waiter flashed the woman a bright smile. “Your usual table?”
“Good evening, Adam. Yes please, the usual.” Larissa nodded and her hand on the small of your back gently pushed you, signalling for you to follow the waiter.
You sat down at the table and could immediately tell why it was Larissa’s favourite table. It was at the back of the restaurant, in a quieter space, and it had a perfect view of all the other tables.
The waiter brought the menu almost immediately and made a few suggestions as he poured two glasses of water. You could feel the older woman staring at you as you opened the menu and flipped through the pages. Everything was expensive, a whole three-course meal in this place would cost as much as your biweekly grocery budget. It was insane.
“Anything tempting you?” Larissa smirked, a strange glint in her eye.
“Um…Yes, yes there is a few things that sound really good.” You nodded and pushed an awkward smile.
“The dress suits you perfectly. You picked the perfect shoes to go with it.”
A blush crept up your cheeks hearing the compliments and you pushed out a shy “thank you”.
“Are you wearing everything that I picked?” Larissa asked, her head slightly tilting to the side.
Her eyes briefly dropped to your chest - no bra, that was the right choice for this kind of dress. Larissa was pleasantly surprised. She had purposefully chosen not to include a bra in the package but she wasn’t sure if you’d wear one of your own.
“Yes,” Your cheeks turned a deep red, not far from the colour of the thong you were wearing. “I’m wearing everything you picked. Thank you, by the way, I loved your selection.”
Larissa’s nostrils flared and she let out a satisfied hum, looking up when Adam reappeared by your table.
Larissa went first, there were far too many French words in her order for you to understand properly, but you enjoyed hearing her accent. It was like honey dripping from her lips. When you snapped out of your thoughts, the waiter was looking down at you expectantly. You opened your mouth to place your order only to be cut off by the tall woman’s voice.
“She will have the seared foie gras as an entrée, followed by the filet mignon - medium rare - with grilled asparagus, and the passion fruit mousse for dessert.” Larissa said, her sapphire eyes looking at you above the menu.
Your mouth dropped open. First, she had picked your whole outfit down to your panties, and now this. I want control, she had told you in one of her messages. You hadn’t really understood what it meant at that time, but you did now. You would never admit how turned on you were as you closed your menu and handed it back to the waiter who gave a polite nod and walked away from your table.
“You’re staring, darling.” Larissa pointed out, making you close your mouth and look away for a second.
“Sorry, I-“
“You weren’t expecting that?”
“Yeah…”
Larissa let out a soft chuckle and reached out, crimson nails taking hold of your chin to make you look at her.
“When we meet, if we meet again, I would like to be in charge of those things.” She simply said.
“In control, you mean?”
The woman’s nostrils flared again and she gave a small nod.
“Yes, in control. I do enjoy knowing you’re wearing something that I picked for you, that you will be tasting what I want you to taste.”
There was something almost erotic in the way she said it, something that sent a shiver down your spine and had your eyes dropping to the woman’s lips, watching them curve in a smirk.
“I wanted to ask-“ You mustered the courage to say. “If you would be expecting…more than just my company.”
“Sex?” The word sinfully rolled from her tongue.
“Yes.” You let out in a whisper.
“Would you like to have sex with me?”
Maybe.
“No.” It instinctively slipped from your mouth. “This is not the kind of arrangement I’m looking for.”
“Well, then I’m not expecting sex from you, no.” Larissa simply answered. She seemed sincere, like she really had not been expecting anything more than your company.
What if you had said yes, though? Would she have sex with you if you ever changed your mind? You swallowed thickly at the thought and picked up your glass, taking a couple of sips of water.
Larissa asked about your day and if you could explain what your studies consisted of, which you happily did. You told her about economics, and how you had learnt about analysing consumers and competitors. You were sure that it was boring, having to listen to these things when you weren’t involved in marketing, and yet Larissa’s eyes never left you. She gave a nod here and there, and asked more questions when something wasn’t fully clear to her. She seemed genuinely interested in you, and it felt nice.
“Thank you, Adam.” Larissa smiled when the entrées were placed on the table.
You looked down at your plate, it was beautifully presented and smelled incredible. What was it again?
“Seared foie gras,” Larissa said as if she could read your mind. “Enjoy, darling.”
“Thank you, enjoy!” You answered and picked up your fork to try the foie gras. You remembered having tasted it once, years ago at a wedding. But it didn’t taste this good in your memory.
Larissa watched your every move. She watched you push the fork inside your mouth, how you closed your eyes when the food filled your tastebuds. The foie gras was exquisite, the woman knew it, and she relished in the pleased hum that escaped you.
“What do you think?” She said, eager to hear your thoughts.
“It’s delicious, thank you for picking it.” You answered honestly, causing Larissa to let out a shuddering breath. Was she getting off on this?
The rest of the meal went smoothly. Larissa seemed determined to keep most of her life private, only answering a couple of your questions, often with well-thought answers that wouldn’t give out too much. It seemed like she enjoyed hearing you talk about yourself, though, for she asked you question after question throughout the evening.
“Thank you for tonight, Larissa.” You said when the two of you walked out of the restaurant. She had paid for the whole bill and, even though you had expected it, it still brought a blush to your cheeks.
She wrapped her arm around your shoulder and pulled you closer against her, walking with you towards her car. She had convinced you to let her drive you back to your flat, although it hadn’t taken much for you to agree to it.
You sat down in the passenger seat of her Chevrolet and stayed quiet as Larissa turned on the engine and drove away from the restaurant. A silence fell between you, it was a bit uncomfortable until the older woman turned the radio on and a familiar new wave song filled the car.
Larissa softly hummed along to the tune and her hand moved to rest on your leg, just above your knee, her thumb soothingly rubbing your skin. You didn’t think you would love it as much as you did, but her hand was warm against your flesh and it simply felt right.
“I think we’ve arrived.” Larissa said as she pulled over in front of your flat.
“Mm? Oh, yeah, yes!” You nodded taking a look outside. You had been lost in your thoughts for the entirety of the ride.
Larissa leaned over and pulled something from the glove compartment before handing it to you. It was a small golden envelope with your initials handwritten on it.
“For your missed shift.” She smiled and placed the envelope in your hand.
“Thank you.”
“Mhm. Now go, get some rest.” She purred. “I will text you later.”
“Goodnight, Larissa.” You bit your lip, hesitating for a second before eventually placing a kiss on the woman’s cheek.
“Goodnight, darling.” She squeezed your thigh and watched you step out of her car, waiting until you were inside the building before she drove away.
You closed the door behind yourself and let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding. It had gone…surprisingly well. Larissa was truly charming, she was intelligent, eloquent, and wealthy. And she was breathtakingly beautiful.
You stepped out of your heels and walked through your flat, dropping the envelope on the kitchen counter before you made your way to the bathroom for a well-deserved shower.
Thoughts of the older women flooded your mind as soon as you stepped under the hot water jet. Was she home already? What was she doing? Had she enjoyed her evening? You were pretty sure that she had. More than once you had caught her pupils dilating as you thanked her for what she had picked for you, whether it was the food or the clothing. Was she thinking about you right now like you were thinking about her?
Would you like to have sex with me? - her voice echoed through your mind and you whined, dropping your hand between your legs. There was a sense of urgency in the way you fucked yourself as you thought of Larissa being in control of you, your food, your outfit - God, you’d probably let her take control of your whole being if she asked for it.
“Fuck- Larissa!” Her name rolled from your tongue as you reached your climax, leaving you panting heavily against the shower wall. It was depraved, you thought, fucking yourself thinking of a woman you had just met.
The same thought crossed Larissa’s mind as she slowly pulled her fingers out of herself, pushing them between her lips to lick them clean. It was depraved, but you had looked so good in the dress she’d picked for you and you had been so thankful all night long.
The tall woman opened a kitchen drawer, pulled a cigarette out of it, and lit it while she poured herself a glass of red with her other hand. It usually was either one or the other, but tonight she really needed both. Larissa was hooked, she couldn’t help herself, she loved taking care of a pretty thing.
You grabbed the envelope from the counter on your way to bed, opening it once you had settled down under the duvet. Two hundred dollar bills fell on your lap, making your eyes widen. This was almost double what you’d have made for your shift tonight. You bit your lip and put the money back into the envelope before shoving it inside your bedside table. Maybe you could get used to this, spending time with a beautiful woman and being paid for it. What was that thing she said? Ah, yes, to seek utmost pleasure.
———————————————————————
taglist: @raspburrythief @weemssapphic @readingtheentrails @larissaoftarthweems @principal-weems09@catechristiesstuff @kimiinou @winterfireblond @im-a-carnivorous-plant @geekyarmorel @h-doodles @azu-zu @barbarasstar @witchesmortuary @vigelvictoria @m1lflov3rrr @dumbasslesbi @crow-raven-crow @fridays-coven @lilfartbox1 @makkaroni221 @snakeskin-world @shawncantwrite @eveymay @gwens0girl @aemilia19 @s-c-rambledegggs @the-bagel24 @lvinhs @thefutureisus2020 @marcelinececiliarose @gela123 @a-queen-and-her-throne @dani885-xox @rando-mango @jessi-v @rosiexweill @raya0jpg @iheartmilfies @tbsoe @olivianevrakisownsme @wheresmyboo @my-silver-spring @hillary-nicks @ablsk @natasha29romanoff @kittyxtallmilfs @tallvampirelady12  @spacetoaim22 @canyoufeelmyheartsayinghi @bigwanise12 @moonyboyjay @i-love-nerdy-stuff @sapphicsticate-blog @1-800-milfdilf @isastrwbxy @bluepandastarfish @tarabeck15 @musicallovinggal @scarlettssub @jasperobsidian-blog @slightlymalicedme @anoymous614372 @i-write-sometimes-maybe @brienne-the-brave @slytherinthepms @non-binary-frogking @wife-of-gwendolinechristie @goodnightboi @anjo-iludidoefudido @imnotafruitt
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silky-nereid · 3 months
Text
— bee’s knees
yandere! cheater x married! reader/you
part 2 , part 3
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Yandere! Cheater who was born from an old money household and married you due to the pressure of societal reasons and not because he was constantly in the bed of single residents of the town and surprisingly he lived across the street from you and you were one of the many stars of the town.
Yandere! Cheater who was often drowning you in lavish clothes and items that you desired from extravagant places that you haven’t been able to visit despite your parents having enough money to spend.
Yandere! Cheater who always loves to come home with a couple of buttons undone and occasionally leaves the smeared lipstick on his neck for you to see.
“Sorry for coming home late.” He held the fresh newspaper. “You know how the roads get on the way home, don’t you?”
He pushed back the golden wire-framed reading glasses on the bridge of his nose, with an exasperated groan and made himself a comfortable spot in an intricately designed wooden chair next to you who was reading through the movie catalog, deciding on what movie to see without him.
You desperately tried to hold a calm expression, smelling the familiar aroma of inexpensive perfume that twirled around him. He went to go and visit her. Again.
“You should bathe,” you replied. “I will be back, I’m going to see pictures.”
You turned away from him but felt his burning gaze from the thin sheet of the newspapers.
Yandere! Cheater who weasels his own way into your time of relaxation but you hardly complain about it since he’s been doing this since he decided to marry you and he just wants to keep an eye on you.
Yandere! Cheater who can’t stand when anyone’s hands simply graze on your hands because he believes that they are reserved for him and nobody else. Surprisingly, your touch occasionally seems to bring him back from his boiling temper.
Yandere! Cheater who often goes to speakeasies to get a taste of ‘real liquor’ due to the prohibition and occasionally comes home with a person draped around his neck.
You despised him for bringing dirt to your doorstep. Your shoes clicked on the marble floor towards the drunken giggling of the woman who was draped around his neck.
“Bringing a woman to our—to my home,” you said. “You can’t…You can’t even respect a simple request of mine.”
Your hand rested on the center of your chest, looking at him with such pain since he could listen to a simple request because he did once before; why was it so different now?
His hand tried to reach out to you to soothe the anguish but instead held onto the back of the exposed back of the woman, tracing the soft designs on her spine.
“I’m sorry, truly I am.” His cold hand stroked your warm cheek. “I will come back later without her.”
Yandere! Cheater who always makes it up to you by gifting you with items and clothes that you have been keeping your eyes on when you both decided to go on a make-up shopping spree and takes you on luxurious dates to make you feel better because it’s not your fault.
Yandere! Cheater is annoyed and notices on the dock across fireworks in extravagant colors and are simply too bright but has a viewing party with you at the amount.
Yandere! Cheater who simply provides financial security for you despite you coming from an old money family.
“Look at this.” He held up an invitation with a folded newspaper on his lap. “It seems that the owner of the fireworks wants us to join them for their next viewing party.”
Your face grew in a small smile and taking the opened invitation from his hand, seeing it held an elegant wax seal in your favorite color. It seemed to be a very short handwritten message and not the usual message written from a typewriter. His free hand managed to hold your cheek and you couldn’t seem to pull away from him.
718 notes · View notes
messrmoonyy · 1 month
Text
-What they’re like as your bf/gf (Hcs) 18+
Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Dutch Van Der Linde, Sadie Adler, Molly O’Shea
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Request- Hi if it’s okay could I ask for some hcs of some of the gang and what they’re like dating with you? NSFW ones toooo🙈🙊 could you include Arthur, John, Dutch, Sadie, Javier and maybe any of the other girls Mary-Beth or Molly or Karen? Thank you 🙏🏻
A/N- I didn’t include Javier cause I like barely speak with him in camp or anything idk I don’t vibe with Javier tbh. And I saw my chance to word vomit my Molly brain rot and ran with it so she’s the girl I picked. Hope this is okay! Enjoy :)
Masterlist - requests are open :)
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Arthur Morgan
- We’ve all seen how he was with Mary. He’d be besotted with you
- His journal would be filled with sketches of you, entries talking about how much he adores you, little notes about how you looked that day or musings about his plans for your future together.
- Definitely doodles a little heart with your initials too <3
- He’s touch starved. So he loves physical contact. A hand to your knee, your back, arm around your shoulders or your waist. He likes keeping you close.
- Brings you stuff from his little travels. Picks flowers for you, finds little trinkets for you.
- Keeps a picture of you by his bed.
- Forehead kisses!!!!!
- Kisses your hand. And kisses to your wrist. He loves when you reach up to cup his face and he can turn to press his lips against your wrist.
- He’s so much more than a tough, burly cowboy. He’s quiet, caring, considerate. And he adores you
NSFW
- takes his time. Likes to work at you until not a single tense muscle is left in your body. Worships you.
- Loves any positions where he can see your face, needs to be close enough to constantly kiss you and tell you how good you are for him
- “ there’s my girl, doin so good for me darlin “ “ jus’ like that darlin, let me take good care of ya “
- Not incredibly vocal, but the noises he does make he ensures are right by your ear.
- Refuses to finish before you ever.
- Loves to finish inside tho. He knows it’s risky, but he loves the closeness. And if he’s feeling particularly risky he’ll definitely push his come back into you with his fingers “ don’t waste it now “
- Grips The headboard.
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John Marston
- he’s stupid. He really is. He’ll be head over heels for you, with you clearly reciprocating those feelings and he’d still think you didn’t like him like that.
- Like. You could kiss him and he’d still be like ‘ what are we? ‘
- When he does finally put two and two together he’ll have no shame or cautions in showing you off.
- He’s handsy. Likes coming up behind you when you’re washing dishes for Pearson to rub at your shoulders.
- Or pull you down to sit on his lap before you can even think about taking the empty spot on the log next to him by the fire.
- Overprotective. One tiny snide comment from anyone and he’s ready to start swinging.
- Definitely knows how to push your buttons and wind you up, and will do it just for fun and to get a rise outta you.
- And then spend the rest of day grovelling and apologising.
NSFW
- Loves going down on you. Like. Loves it. The man could spend hours there if you’d let him and Lord has he tried.
- Not very serious most of the time.
- Pretty vocal. And doesn’t really care if anyone’s listening either.
- Like i said, he’s handsy. His hands are restless and will grab at whatever part of you they can.
- Loves when you ride him and has absolutely made a cowgirl joke more than once.
- Will grab at your hips and guide your movements as you do. Told you he’s handsy.
- But also isn’t opposed to you on your back, legs over his shoulders. Presses kisses to your ankles and makes jokes about how good the view is.
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Dutch Van Der Linde
- he’s not the most attentive of people at times. He’s constantly in his head and constantly thinking about things that aren’t you.
- But when he does allow himself time alone with you he is disgustingly charming.
- He always knows what to say, always knows the right words to have you melting into a puddle at his feet. You could be in the worst mood with him but a few whispers in your ear and it’s all forgotten.
- Has a million terms of endearment for you. My angel, my dear , my darling. He rarely ever uses your actual name, only when he’s mad.
- Loves to give you gifts, the more expensive the better. And he likes you to show them off too. He likes to show you off.
- Reads to you a lot.
- PDA is afraid of him. He doesn’t care where he is or who’s watching him, he’ll loop an arm around your waist to kiss your neck, pull you onto his lap when he’s reading beside his tent and kiss you. No shame.
NSFW
- will take his time with you but in a far different way to, say, Arthur
- He’ll edge you and overstimulate you for hours, because be gets off on the fact that you simply let him. That you obey his every command.
- Degrading and humiliating 🤝🏻 Dutch Van Der Linde
- He’s never too mean. And his degrading comments are more often than not laced with something sweet.
- Dacryphilic. 100000%. He loves watching you cry because he’s worked you into such an overstimulated mess.
- He’ll swipe your tears away or kiss them from your cheeks “ well isn’t that just a pretty sight? “ “ those tears for me, my angel? “
- Definitely has some kind of authority kink. Likes you calling him sir for sure.
- Loves you giving him head. Just loves you on your knees. It’s a power thing. And he’s a cocky son of a bitch.
- Sat back in his chair and won’t lift a damn finger to help you out, won’t even unbuckle his belt. And don’t tell me he doesn’t smoke whilst he watches you.
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Sadie Adler
- She is absolutely not shy about her feelings when she finally accepts she has them.
- Shes just so sweet to you.
- Around camp she’s stuck to you like glue. Her arm is permanently around your waist or your shoulders, or her hand laced with yours and is ready to snap at any intrusive questions from anyone else about it at the drop of a hat
- Love language is gift giving. Just taken in a bounty but found a shiny lil necklace in his pocket? Well. It’s hers now. Or should I say, yours.
- If your hairs long enough she’ll braid it like hers, any excuse to be able to sit close to you and whisper sweet things in your ear.
- Would teach you how to shoot better, she wants to make sure you know how to defend yourself. but also wants the excuse to stand behind you and show you how to hold her rifle properly.
- Big spoon.
NSFW
- Sadie’s gained control over literally everything else in life, and it doesn’t change in the bedroom
- She trusts you whole heartedly but she’s not about to give up any sort of control to you for a While
- Makes sure she can see your face at all times, loves watching your face contort and relax in pleasure that she’s giving you
- Full of praise “ ain’t you just the prettiest thing? “ “ oh look at you! D’ya know how pretty you look from here? “ “ always such a good girl for me “
- Has a thing for putting her fingers in your mouth. Especially after she’s just fucked you with them.
- Having you on your knees eating her out drives her crazy. Will pull at your hair a little too hard but will soothe the sting with a thousand words of praise about how good you make her feel.
- And now hear me out. Loves to watch you. Will book you a hotel room together just so she can sit across the room and watch you touch yourself for her, encouraging you the entire time
- It’s never long before she absolutely has to have her hands on you though in the end.
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Molly O’Shea
- sheeeee has some trust issues. And abandonment issues. She’s just… she’s a lot at times.
- But she is fiercely loyal and will love you with every fibre of her being
- And she wants to be loved as fiercely in return. She’ll spiral without constant reassurance “ d’you even love me anymore? “ “did I do somethin wrong? Haven’t told me you love me today “
- She knows deep down you do love her. She’s just afraid.
- She is such a romantic. She loves holding your hand, sitting close to you, doing your makeup like hers and stealing kisses in between painting your lips red
- She’ll write you sappy romantic poetry and leave you lil notes
- You’ll often overhear her gushing to other people about how in love she is too. She just loves to talk about you and how deeply she adores you.
- Likes when you give her forehead kisses.
NSFW
- Pillow princess. End of story.
- She’s not completely submissive though. She’ll tell you what she wants and what she likes
- She just wants to be taken care of okay. She needs to be taken care of.
- Makes the softest, sweetest sounds and will tell you she loves you a million times over.
- Enjoys when things just… naturally happen. Cuddling with you at night, but pushing her hips lightly back against you. Which usually ends with your hand slipping past her waistband and making her come on your fingers.
- Likes to be on top of you sometimes, simply so she can show off whilst she strips. Not to really do anything. Shes really not that much of a giver. She likes being watched. She likes to know she’s desired. And usually it ends up with you dragging her to sit on your face.
- You have to shower her with praise. She wants to know she looks beautiful, that she’s doing well, worship her. Which is incredibly easy for you cause like fucking look at her she’s gorgeous.
- Wraps herself around you when you cuddle after, legs intertwined and arms around you, head buried in your chest or neck. Pls my sweet baby needs to be held.
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seuonji · 9 months
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彡 are they dating? —times your relationship was almost revealed / time you both got caught.
๑ idol!svt x idol!yn secret relationship series! no storyline, just fun.
—yn is a hybe artist!!
★my bestie that proofreads my writings gave me the wonwoo scenario <333
one ๑ two ๑ three ๑ four ๑ five ๑ six ๑ seven #mlist
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laying down with jun/soonyoung/seokmin/mingyu on his bed and taking selfies using instagram for the filters until he drops his phone and accidentally clicks on the add to story button— you both screamed until one of you deletes it or turned off the wifi so it wouldn’t post but you guys knew how persistent your fans were, you didn’t know if deleting it was good enough. he would probably say, “should i just delete my account?”
when your group won an award at an award show, during your comment the camera briefly pointed at jeonghan/wonwoo/jihoon’s face which showed his sweetest and softest smile. that picture went viral the next hour. anon: “i want someone to look at me the way he looked at yn when they won an award.” / “he wouldn’t just look at them like that for no reason they have to know each other more deeply right!?.”
passing by the seventeen practice room where seungcheol/jeonghan/minghao’s was practicing alone. he recognises your figure even though the door was translucent. he practically ran outside and looked if they coast was clear before giving you a hug. little did you guys know the one or some of your fellow hybe artists from another group was walking around that floor— they instantly said they wouldn’t tell anyone but would also be in shock and would take awhile to process what they just saw.
after an afternoon of hanging with joshua during your short break in one of the rooms in the building, you had a schedule to go live when you got back to your designated room. you soon left and looked in the mirror to make sure everything was okay and you met up with the staff then went live. you enjoyed reading the comments and answered some until you saw a specific comment. anon: yn! your necklace is so cute! where did you get it?
you mentally froze for 3 seconds and looked at yourself in the screen. you touched your neck and saw that you were wearing the necklace joshua gave you literally 30 minutes ago. you nervously laughed and said that you recently got into the activity of making jewellery and that you were testing its durability. “do you guys want one?” you smiled at your viewers. you got comments that were constantly mentioning joshua— anon: “you’re like joshua!” // “joshua from svt also makes them!!“ — but the really annoying ones would tell you you’re copying him.
during a live, a fan pointed out that wonwoo was wearing more jewellery recently. “sort of, but it’s mostly rings,” wonwoo says as he placed the back of his hand infront of the screen to showcase his rings. later on in the live he started giving the origins of each ring, “this was from a recent trip, this one is from mingyu…”
he got to a simple silver ring and he held back a grin, “this one is a typical ring but i like it a lot.” he showed the rings once again. he faced his palm to the camera but realised, on the simple silver ring, your name was engraved onto it and it was legible. he mostly had it turned inwards for reasons like this tho. he quickly took his hand away from the camera and read other comments to change the topic— the fandom became super curious, they noticed there was some writing on the ring. it was the same curiousity as to when scoups was revealed to have a tattoo.
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suugarbabe · 9 months
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Saving Grace (III)
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[Chapter 3]
Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x Reader
Word count: ~4.3k (she a long one this time 'round)
Warning: drinking, smut adjacent content [readers below the age of 18 this is your warning to be aware of the content you consume]
Summary: The Slytherin party has arrived and y/n may have gone a little too far...
[chapter 2]
You spun around once more, inspecting your outfit from every possible angle. You had asked Pansy if she wanted to get ready with you and your friends, partly because you wanted to get to know her a bit better, and partly because you knew she’d help you look hot enough to actually convince other people that you and Mattheo were together for the night. She was a lot nicer than you expected, getting along with your friends, all of you helping each other pick out your outfits and finish each other's hair. Pansy had let you borrow one of her mini dresses. It was a gorgeous emerald green, made of silk and hitting mid-thigh. It had a corset laced back, helping your waist look snatched as the pleated bodice helped accentuate your cleavage just enough to be tempting. You made the decision to pair it with a pair of black Doc Marten boots you had borrowed from your friend Luna. You had no idea why a doctor was making boots, but you thought they were adorable and made a mental note to ask Luna where you could get a pair the next time you saw her. Flora and Ottie were sitting on their beds while Darcy and Pansy told you for the third time how perfect your outfit was. 
“You’re absolutely sure, guys? I feel like if I were to bend over my entire ass would be out,” you peered over your shoulder at the mirror, seeing the silk fabric lay just below the curve of your ass. Pansy smirked to herself, “If you’re bending over at all tonight let’s hope it’s Mattheo bending you over the edge of his bed.” You gasped, cheeks burning red, “Pansy Parkinson! That will not be happening tonight.” She shrugged, “I bet he would. I see the way he looks at you. It’s different than the other girls he’s brought around. No offense.” Darcy and Flora both shrugged nonchalantly . “No, you’re right,” Flora agreed, “We were both drunk when we made out with him. Just kind of feral and a natural instinct. He seems to really like you, Y/n/n.” You opened your mouth to protest again when a quick rapping came from the door. Darcy opened it, greeting the person and stepping aside to let them in. “Why hello ladies,” Mattheo’s voice floated into the room, as did he along with it. 
He was wearing black straight legged slacks that were cuffed at the bottom, displaying his black high top converse. He wore a black tank top with a black short sleeved button up, completely unbuttoned. For a seemingly simple outfit, he looked really handsome. “We’ll give you guys a minute and meet you down there,” Ottie winked behind Mattheo’s back while Pansy flashed you two thumbs up, the other two girls dragging them out the door, leaving you alone in the dorm with Mattheo. He stood with his hands in his pockets, but a smirk plastered on his face as he gave you a once over. You started getting nervous, “How do I look? Is it too much? Pansy let me borrow a dress.” You did a slow circle, giving him a view of the whole picture. “No, no. I mean, I think you look great. Better than great, bloody gorgeous really.” You felt blood rush to your cheeks at his compliment, “You don’t think it’s a little too revealing? It’s not like teasing Adrian or anything? The plan is to get him to back off after all, not drool over me.” Mattheo flung his hand like he was throwing your words and worries away, “Princess, wear whatever makes you feel good, revealing or not. Doesn’t matter to me, I know how to fight.” He punctuated his statement with a wink. 
You rolled your eyes, grinning at his remark, “Okay, machismo, well hopefully it doesn’t come to that.” You walked past him to the door. You grabbed the handle, turning back to him once more before opening the door, “Are you accompanying me to this party, or you gonna stand there and stare at my ass all night.” His eyes snapped up to meet yours immediately, mumbling a shy ‘sorry’ as his cheeks tinted the slightest pink. He led you down the steps from the dorms to the common room where the party was in full swing, a hand helping guide you just above the curve of your ass. As soon as you stepped off the last step, you broke through the barrier of the silencing charm that was placed on the room and your ears erupted with heavy bass. You spotted your three friends in the middle of the dance floor as Mattheo led you to his group’s usuals spot in the back corner. You had spoken with Ottie, Darcy and Flora earlier that day and they all agreed you should spend the party getting to know Mattheo better. You tried to argue against them, but they truly believed you two were on the verge of dating and loved that, for the moment, it seemed like someone was keeping Adrian off your back. 
As you reached the couches, the rest of his group was already there, Pansy included. Mattheo sat in one of the arm chairs, patting his thigh for you to sit on his lap. You raised your eyebrows at him slightly, a smile tugging at your lips, “I think I’m gonna grab a drink first, do you want one?” He offered to grab them for you but you insisted, he agreed only if you brought Pansy with you. She, of course, agreed immediately. Mattheo requested a fire whiskey, stating he took it “straight, on the rocks”. You could understand why some people thought he was psychotic by that drink request alone. You opted for a gin and orange juice that was very much so gin and more of a wafting of the citrus mixer. You weren’t exactly sure why but you were feeling nervous. Your answer to your nerves was revealed when you and Pansy turned to head back to the boys and you nearly slammed into Adrian’s chest. “Merlin’s beard, what do you want, Pucey?” Your tone was laced with irritation but Adrian didn’t seem to take the hint, “Just wanted to tell you how breathtaking you looked tonight, Y/n.” You rolled your eyes, looking over at Pansy who had her tongue out and her finger in her mouth faking a gagging noise. “Fuck off, shit stain, Y/n came with someone else tonight,” Pansy threw her shoulder into him, knocking him back enough for you both to walk past him. 
You could feel him staring as you both walked away and a chill found its way up your spine. As you reached the group you could tell Mattheo saw the entire interaction just by the glare on his face. You walked up to his chair, standing in front of him with a drink in each hand. “This seat taken?” You asked, nodding towards his lap. He smirked as you turned around, he placed a hand on each side of your waist, helping guide you down to his lap before taking a cup from one of your hands. He took a large gulp before his face immediately twisted in disgust, “Fucking Salazar’s dick, Y/n! Is this straight gin?!” You winced, “Oh, shit, I’m sorry, Teo! Yours is this one,” you switched the cup he was holding with the one from your other hand. “And for your information, there is also orange juice in there. Don’t be such a baby,” you grabbed at his face, squeezing it playfully and making his lips purse slightly. He pushed your hand off him, grin forming on his lips. “Don’t let her fool you, she put maybe a drops worth of juice in there,” Pansy spoke up. You shot her a look, but she only shrugged. 
“Mattheo’s new girl likes to drink…I dig it,” Theo nudged Enzo who laughed along with him. “Alright, Mattheo! Finally found one that can hang with the rest of us huh?” Mattheo squeezed the outside of your thigh playfully, resting his chin on your shoulder as he answered his friend, “Yeah, she’s different this one. Got a bit of sass to her, too so I’d watch out.” The group laughed together, making you feel a little more at ease. You all started chatting for a bit, general banter occurring between the boys. It was fun to watch them tease each other. Enzo seemed to be the butt of most of their jokes but he didn’t seem to mind, taking everything said in stride like a good sport. Blaise was the one to suggest playing a game, everyone seemed up for it but there was a collective agreement that refills were necessary. Mattheo offered to get yours and you gladly accepted. He placed a gentle kiss to your forehead before following a few of the others to the drink table, leaving just you, Enzo and Draco to keep your spot in the corner reserved. You placed one of Theo’s empty beer bottles in the middle of the floor between all the couches, flicking your wand to transform it into a table. Enzo wore a drunken smile, “I love magic.” You ruffled his hair as you went to sit back in your spot, “Me too, bub.” You sat back in the armchair, slinging your legs over one of the sides. 
You noticed Draco staring at you, a less than pleased look on his face. You rolled your eyes, leaning an elbow on one of the arm rests, “Care to share what’s on your mind Draco?” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, “Yeah, yeah I do actually. What do you even like about my cousin? I don’t know if I believe this little thing between you two is even real.” You felt like your body temperature rose ten degrees, but you tried to play it off, “He always this skeptical, Enzo?” You tried to distract from the question aimed at you. Enzo giggled to himself, “Always.” You turned back to look at Draco who, once again, looked irritated and still waiting on your answer. You huffed, “I happen to think Mattheo is very funny. He’s also very witty, and incredibly kind.” Draco scoffed at this, “Did you say kind? That’s definitely not a word that describes him.” You continued to sing Mattheo’s praises, “I think you’d be surprised.” The others started coming back around at that moment. “What would be surprising?” Mattheo asked as he handed you your new drink. He lifted your legs, sliding into the chair before setting them back down across his lap, resting a hand on your knee. “I was just telling Draco how kind you were,” You smiled at Mattheo as the others attempted to hide their grins, “Are you tarnishing my bad boy reputation, Princess?” Mattheo mocked offense, giving your knee a light squeeze, you squealed softly, squirming in your seat as he grabbed your waist, burying his face in the crook of your neck. His curls tickled your skin, making you laugh further, attempting to push him off you. 
“Okay, lovebirds, real it in before we all vomit,” Theo teased. You turned to him, “Awh, don’t be jealous, Theo. I can have my friends come over and hang with us if you’re lonely.” You were half joking just to mess with him, but his eyes lit up at the suggestion. “If you have hot friends why are they not already over here, where are they?” He turned to look at the crowd of dancing bodies, a hand over his eyes like he was searching the oceanside. Pansy jumped up immediately, stating she would go grab them because, “games are more fun when the boy to girl ratio is more even.” You turned to Blaise then, “Alright, gamekeeper. What’re we playing tonight?” His face broke out into a grin, grabbing another one of Theo’s empty beer bottles and placing it on the table, “It’s a little mix of a few different games. You’ll spin the bottle, whoever it lands on gets the age old question: Truth or dare. If you refuse or answer, or refuse to do the dare, you drink.” It was simple enough, but with this lot you could definitely see how it could get out of hand. Pansy came back with your other three friends in tow. Ottie sat on the couch with Pansy and Draco, while Flora and Darcy sat on either side of Theo, who looked like he was in heaven. Darcy was sat between both Theo and Enzo, the latter boy’s face looking like he’d never been that close to a female person in his life. Pansy volunteered to spin first, placing the bottle on its side and giving it a good twirl. 
It stopped on Enzo, Pansy smiled wickedly, “Enzo, truth or dare?” Enzo looked like he might pass out, which told you that you were right to assume how intense these games get, and that Pansy was likely going to be ruthless. “Truth?” Enzo said it more like a question, probably assuming it’d be the safer choice between the two options. Pansy’s face revealed that neither option was going to prove easy, “Okay, who were you thinking about the last time you got a boner?” You had to cover your mouth to conceal your laughter, however others in the circle were not as kind. If looks could kill, Pansy would be dead, but Enzo braved up and answered, “Astoria.” “Greengrass?!” Flora covered her mouth, not meaning to sound as shocked. “In Enzo’s defense, her skirt was particularly short in Ancient Runes this week, so you can’t blame him,” Theo patted his friend's shoulder, but Enzo’s face was stained red. Enzo spun the bottle, ready for the attention to be off of him and on to somebody else. The bottle stopped while facing Theo, “Truth or dare, Theo?” He took a swig of his drink, “Let’s go truth this round.” Enzo sat up straighter, “Fine, have you ever had a crush on anyone in the circle? And if so, who?” Theo scoffed, “Easy, Y/n.” You were shocked to say the least, “What? Me? When?” He shrugged, “Dunno, like year three or something I think?” You turned to look at Ottie who was doing the worst job possible containing her laughter. To say she she was past the feeling of buzzed was an understatement as she seemed to lose the ability to keep her mouth shut, “That is actually hilarious because Y/n also had a crush on you in year three.” 
You launched a pillow at her head, which she somehow managed to deflect, “Seriously, Ottie? What the fuck?” You looked over at Theo who was wearing a proud smirk. “What a missed opportunity, Y/n. To think it could’ve been my lap you were sitting on tonight,” He threw you a wink and you hid your face in your hands. “Watch it, Nott,” Mattheo warned with a playful tone, running his fingers up and down your back to soothe you through your embarrassment. The game continued, dares being thrown wildly around the circle, surface truth’s being told between each other, alcohol being downed by those refusing to do either depending on who and what was asked of them. You were pleasantly surprised at how well your friends seemed to mesh with Mattheo’s. Darcy had kissed both Blaise and Theo. Blaise had dared Draco to smile, who refused because the dare was “ridiculous” and instead chugged half his drink in one go. You were having fun, relaxing further into Mattheo the more you drank. You thought how nothing could ruin the good time you were having until you spotted Pucey leaning against the wall just beyond the couches. He was glaring at you and Mattheo and the rest of the group. You rolled your eyes, turning to look at Pansy and give her a disgusted look. She raised an eyebrow, silently asking what was wrong. You glanced sideways, not moving your head but also telling her to look to her right. As she glanced over slowly, she saw what you needed her too and she screwed her face in disgust. Thankfully it was her turn to spin the bottle again, but this time she had a plan. With her wand flush against her thigh, Pansy silently cast a spell, making the bottle stop when it pointed at you. “Truth or dare, Y/n?” Her tone more emphasized on the word dare. She had a look in her eyes that told you to pick the latter option, so you obliged. “I dare you to give Mattheo a lap dance.” 
You’re sure your eyes looked like they were going to pop out of your skull, but Pansy glanced over to where Pucey was standing again. “You don’t have to do that, Princess,” Mattheo assured you. You shook your head, “No it’s okay.” You stood up, smoothing out your dress and setting your drink and his down on the table. You turned to face him, leaning down to whisper in his ear, “We have an audience.” You grabbed his chin, turning his head slightly so he could see Adrian. Mattheo’s lips turned up at the corners ever so slightly before turning back to face you. “Now, sit back and enjoy, handsome,” you placed his hands on either arm rest of the chair, “but no touching.” You winked at him as he sat back, eyeing you up and down as he manspread on the chair. You turned back around, everyone in the circle, and pair of eyes to the side, watching you. You listened to the music of the party, allowing yourself to sway your hips back and forth. You ran your hands up your thighs slowly, grazing your fingertips over the curve of your hips, the dip of your waist, over the swell of your breasts and up through your hair. You were thankful you had drank as much as you did up until this point. You bent slightly at the knees, placing a hand on each of Mattheo’s thighs, your ass hovering ever-so-slightly over his lap. You stuck your ass up just a little higher, the black lace of your thong that covered your core just peeking out below the hem of your dress. You felt Mattheo’s thighs tense as he lowly growled out, “Careful, Princess…” You stood up slowly, turning to face him now, peering over subtly to see Adrian still watching, looking angry, but not angry enough or your liking. You decided to finish the dare with a bold move, straddling one of Mattheo’s thighs. You grabbed hold of each side of his black button up, then pulled him into you, crashing your lips against his. Your tongue slid into his mouth with ease, another low growl erupting from his throat as you did so. His hands flew to your hips, grinding them down slightly making your core rub against his slacks. You whimpered, unable to control your reaction before you pulled away, chest heaving as you caught your breath. 
“Bloody hell, that was…sexy as fuck,” Enzo’s statement returned you back to reality and where you currently were. Your cheeks burned as you got off Mattheo’s leg and sat down next to him. “Guess you should’ve spoken up in year three, huh Theo,” Draco teased his friend who was now holding a pillow over his lap, face still stunned from what he just watched. “Careful, cousin,” Mattheo spoke, “Games not over yet, there’s still time to embarrass you, too.” The game continued for a little while longer, before slowly dying down. Draco and Blaise ended up having to carry Enzo back to the dorm, thankfully he was only three fourths their size so they were basically carrying a child. Your three friends said their goodbye’s shortly after. Theo and Mattheo began picking up the trash the others left behind. You went to assist when Pansy grabbed your wrist, pulling you to sit down next to her. “Bloody hell, that lap dance was amazing, Y/n! When you started making out with him, Pucey fucking crushed his cup and threw it on the ground, it was amazing,” you laughed at this. “Serves him right, he’s been being a creep to me since the start of classes,” you glanced around the room, making sure he wasn’t still somewhere stalking you. Pansy stood up, pulling you along with her, “Hopefully he doesn’t get more jealous and try to take what clearly isn’t his.” You slapped her arm playfully, “Do not place those negative manifestations into my life Pansy or I’ll sic him on you instead!” 
You felt a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist from behind you, Mattheo’s chin now resting atop your head, “If you’re quite done hogging, Y/n, I think we’re going to call it a night.” Pansy kissed your cheek, “Alright, alright. Go and take your girlfriend, Riddle. But we’re talking tomorrow, Y/n/n.” You assured her you’d likely see her back in the dorm shortly but she said she “wasn’t going to hold her breath" before walking away to the room. You rolled your eyes, leading Mattheo up the stairs and down the hall towards your dorm door, the man still attached to your hips. He released you from his grip when you approached the end of the hall. You turned to face him, seeing him sporting a goofy grin. “What is it?” you questioned. He shrugged, resting his hands on your hips, “Tonight was…unexpected.” You wrapped your hands around his neck, tilting your head slightly, “What? Didn’t expect me to get along with your friends so well?” You were playing with the curls at the base of his neck. He closed his eyes, humming at the feeling of comfort the simple action gave him. “I was more so talking about the lap dance I received. Didn’t really expect that from the quiet girl at the back of Charms class.” You could still feel the alcohol flowing through you slightly, giving you a little more confidence and a lot more boldness. “Oh Teo, didn’t anyone ever tell you, it’s the quiet girls that are the kinkiest,” you patted his cheek playfully. 
He grabbed your wrist, backing you up against the wall, his knee slotted between your thighs. His eyes turned a shade darker, almost lust filled, “Careful, y/n/n…you are very close to breaking your one rule in this whole arrangement.” You opened your mouth to respond, your breath catching in your throat as Mattheo’s thigh applied pressure between your legs. Your brain finally caught up to his words, sobering you up slightly. “You’re right, I-I’m sorry,” you placed your free hand on his chest. He let your other wrist go as he took a step back. He ran a hand through his curls, “You’re fine, erm, it’s fine.” He kissed your forehead softly, “Goodnight, Y/n.” He started to walk away but you called after him, a question burning in the back of your mind, “Hey, Mattheo.” He turned back around to face you. “Why didn’t you correct her? Pansy, earlier, when she called me your girlfriend. We didn’t really tell people we were dating, the plan originally was just to be seen together at this party to get Pucey off my back.” He walked back over to you until he was standing right in front of you. You waited a beat, anticipating his answer. Instead, he reached up, grabbing the pendant of your necklace, “You wear this every day. I noticed it the first time you came up to me in the hall. A protection rune carved on...,” he flipped the pendant back and forth between his fingers, “black obsidian?” You nodded, “M-my mother gave it to me my first year.” 
He hummed to himself, letting the necklace fall back to your chest. “I didn’t correct her because I think we can help each other. Like you said before, Pucey’s persistent. You definitely pissed him off tonight but I don’t think he’s going to give up all together. You always want what you can’t have, right?” You nodded, grabbing his hand. You ran your thumb along the top of his knuckles, feeling the different bumps and scars along them, “So how does me being your girlfriend help you then? Someone you’re trying to make jealous?” He laughed lightly, “No, nothing like that.” “Then what is it?” your curiosity was peaked now. “I think it would just be good for me to have a positive influence around for a while. You saw my friends,” he laughed to himself. You weren’t quite sure if you believed his answer, but you decided tonight was not the night to press the conversation further, “Okay, Teo. I don’t mind keeping you company.” He smiled at you, another small goofy grin. A girl rounded the corner, stopping abruptly when she saw the two of you. “Erm, sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Mattheo flashed an award winning smile, “No worries, darling, I was just going.” He turned back to you, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, “Sleep well, beautiful.” He winked at the girl in the hall as he passed her. She turned back to you as you opened the door, following as you entered the room, “You are seriously so lucky.” You sat on your bed, undoing your laces and chucking your boots off, “You have no idea.” You threw on some pajama shorts and a t-shirt, laying the dress on Pansy’s trunk. She turned over in her bed, “I’m surprised you’re sleeping here tonight.” You pulled back your covers, “I told you I’d be here, Pans.” 
She mumbled something but it got muffled by her pillow. You tucked yourself into your own bed, flicking your bedside light off. You laid on your back, staring at the ceiling. You ran the events of the party over in mind. You could partly blame the alcohol for the intensity of things between you and Mattheo tonight, but you weren’t sure it was fully to blame. You closed your eyes, trying to focus on the soft snores of the other girls in the room. You were eventually able to doze off, however your dreams were flooded with a certain curly haired boy.
[chapter 4]
Taglist:
@b3ean @l4venderia @mypolicemanharryyy @ma-las @usmell4 @carav4l
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