#i will never get answers on this and that's fine but i would LOVE for a writer to be like. you know who we need to have a random solo for.

[wreckedandpolemic]

screwed up and brilliant - matty healy

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

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

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

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

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

hi x

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

Fucking hell

Hi, pretty girl

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

yeah i bet you would

answer the question perv

I don’t want to spoil the surprise

if you don’t tell me im changing

Fine

Brat

It’s nice but relaxed

Youre not dressing for dinner its not that hard

rude

pick me up in an hour ;)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Matty, I—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You want me to teach you?”

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

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

collar as if he’s sweating at your words. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“With who?” she asks, lips pursed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wh- What?” you hiss, disbelieving.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Does he know that? Has he?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“102,” you sniffle. “It’s—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Matty grins. “Do your worst, angel.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

i’d love to :)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You scoff. “Is that even a question?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

#take a shot every time i reference one of my friends' fics in this series #fly high prof matty forever in our hearts #matty healy x reader #matty healy smut #matty healy imagine #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 smut #writing #smut #white and gold

[cordeliawhohung]

Of Sea Foam and Iron [3]

general masterlist | series masterlist | taglist

Hephaestus!ghost x Aphrodite!reader x Ares!soap

a storm hits

wc: 3.9k

warnings: historical au with lots of inaccuracies, mythology!au, nudity, talk of war and gore

Cold linens awaited you when you truly woke from your rest as John and Simon’s presence had dissipated.

There was no chin to rest against the top of your head, or a strong chest to press against your back. In fact, the only proof that they had ever been there at all was their lingering scent on your skin. You closed your eyes as soon as they fluttered open, trying to draw back the memory of their hands on your waist and the comforting weight that accompanied it. It was only a pale imitation of the real thing, and it left your chest yearning for something you knew you would never gain the courage to ask for. 

When your eyes opened for a second time, they did so with a great huff from your lungs. Pale sunlight and a strong breeze drifted through the cracks of the closed shutters, and though salt was always ever present in the air, you could smell the promise of rain hiding underneath the brine. It would be a good day to stay inside. 

Usually you didn’t need your himation in the warm summer months, but without the golden sun to warm the house, a heavy chill pricked at your body. You wrapped the thick wool around your shoulders before you descended downstairs on creaky steps. Simon was already hard at work for the day, and you hardly got halfway to the landing before you heard his hammer echo with its metallic clink in the courtyard. All Simon had done since the day the two of you were bound together in matrimony was work. In the beginning, you were certain that it was to distance himself from you — his unruly wife — but once John returned home you thought he would allow himself to rest. Yet, it seemed as if that’s all the man ever wanted to do. 

“Mornin’ little dove,” John grinned. 

A strong fire blazed in the central hearth of the home where dancing flames attempted to lick John’s back as he sat faced away from his hard work. Blue eyes sparkled with a warmth that rivaled the fire behind him, and you almost felt a smile flitter across your lips. There was nothing different from his gaze that morning compared to the previous day, yet his fingers twitched as they rested on his bent knees as if they searched for something.

“Morning,” you replied, voice meek as you adjusted your himation. 

Johnny’s hand slipped off of his knee where he patted the hearth next to him invitingly. “Come, get warm.” 

Your bare feet hardly made a sound against the floor as you crossed into the threshold. Each step brought the warmth of the flames along your legs where they dethawed your cold toes and fingers. John watched you with careful eyes as you situated yourself on the stone slab next to him, and he hummed once you settled. Heat prickled up your spine and it chased away the residual morning cold that clung to your body; though, you were unable to tell if that was because of the fire, or because of John. 

“Rain is coming,” he said. His head tilted back to look up at the ceiling as if it were the sky instead. “A storm, maybe.” 

Over the roaring of the fire behind you, a dull roll of thunder grumbled somewhere in the distance. It was not frequent that your city received storms, as Poseidon often smiled upon you. Though one could argue he was angry, if the storm was mild, perhaps he only sent the rain to assist with the farmers and their crops. 

“That would be nice,” you mused. 

John chuckled warmly. “You like the rain?”

“I think so,” you answered. “I like the water. The ocean.” 

“A fine thing to love.” 

Instinct told you to look at him, yet you refrained from doing so. Despite the familiarity in the tone of conversation, John was still a stranger to you. Some man who had returned only yesterday to embrace your husband while dressed to gut enemies. Still, he was kind, but despite the fire at your back, you were silent and cold. 

“I… wanted to talk more about yesterday,” John continued through your silence. “I’m sure you still have many questions, as Simon isn’t the most prolific.” 

“Prolific?” you repeated with your snark hardly restrained. “He’s spoken a handful of words to me since we’ve been married.” 

“Like I said, quiet,” he repeated with a poorly hidden laugh. “Though, I wasn’t much help prompting answers from him yesterday, either. Dead on my feet after traveling. Took us just short of a fortnight to arrive home.” 

John rubbed at his eyes as if the exhaustion still plagued his vision, and yet even with his movement you did not glance at him once. Looking at someone often brought a weakness about you that you had difficulty conquering. There was something about their eyes that had you see the humanity within them, no matter how hard they tried to hide it. You would have hated to crumble in front of him. 

“Well,” you prodded, “perhaps you can get an explanation out of him, then. He spoke not a word of your existence and then introduced you as my second husband? Such terrible madness.” 

“I already got an explanation out of him this morning while you slept,” he sighed. “Which is why I want to talk to you. I’m better at explaining things than Simon is.” 

Bewildered, you finally allowed your eyes to fall on John. “Must you be so casual about this? Was this not a surprise to you? Coming home to your husband having wedded himself illegally to someone else?” 

“Simon is not my husband.” 

Your expression betrayed the icy exterior you used to conceal that softness inside. It was difficult to tell if it was because of your confusion, but you found your heart aching at those words. John could not look at you when he said them, and though they left his tongue with ease his tone was soaked in a somberness that burned. 

“Soldiers aren’t permitted to marry,” he explained, blue eyes trained on the floor in front of him. “They say love gets in the way. Muddles things up. Soldiers have only one duty, and it’s to the state.” 

He paused.

“I would have liked to have married him.” 

If it wasn’t for the pain in his voice, you would have been afraid. The lost longing painted you to be the ruiner; the pitiful being that tainted something that had not gotten the opportunity to bloom. A desert-like dryness settled on your tongue. It tasted worse than sand. It was bitter, grainy, and promised to end you. 

“I’m sorry,” was all you could say. 

“Don’t be,” John said with an attempt at humor. “I told him to find a wife. To get married. Have children. I would have hated for him to wait around forever just for me.” 

“Could you not have waited? I thought soldiers were only required to serve for two years,” you pondered. 

John hummed again. He did that often, as if song better suited his ideas than mere words. Thick fingers pressed into the joints of his wrists as he massaged tired muscles and traced faded scars before answering you. 

“Most only serve for two years, yes,” he concurred. “But, you don’t earn the name Ares’s Dog by serving the minimum. My heart is here in the city, but my home is in the viscera leftover from battle.” 

He paused as he twisted his torso to look behind him. A large hand reached for a split log in the pile just next to the fire, and John expertly tossed it into the flames. The fire cracked loudly, content with its meal. 

“No. I told him to marry, so it wasn’t quite the surprise when I came home and you were already here,” he explained as he repositioned himself. “Find a wife. Start a family. And if his wife would have me too, then I would stay. But it seems things weren’t that simple considering your… situation.” 

“Yes,” you concurred, voice soft. “It wasn’t… proper.��� 

“Simon told me what your father had to do to protect you. I’m sorry you had to witness such gore,” Johnny consoled. “I understand why he would hastily marry you off to Simon if it meant having the protection you deserve. And, well, knowing Simon as well as I do, he didn’t hesitate at all in marrying you if it meant aiding you.” 

A scoff tore through your vocal chords so fierce it left a sour aftertaste on your tongue. John spoke of Simon as if he were Apollo himself, guiding the sun across the sky to bring light and warmth to the soil beneath your feet. You were certain that John’s feelings towards Simon weren’t unfounded at all, but though he had never been cruel or unkind to you in any way, he was not loving. Not to you, anyway. 

“Could have fooled me,” you spat. “I feel like a ghost in this house. At least he avoids me like one.” 

Despite your sour attitude and words, John only chuckled. 

“His love is strange, yes,” he said. “It’s still new to him; love. Being vulnerable. Something he was never granted before. He’ll keep his distance, if you let him. I swear to you, you’ll find no finer man than him.” 

Another roll of thunder shook the sky. It was stronger than the quiet whisper of one you heard minutes earlier, and it all but demanded attention. Both you and John looked up to the ceiling, and moments later the soft trickle of rain engulfed the house. Though none of the windows were open, you pulled your himation closer to you as if to stave off the breeze that beat at the shudders. The thick wool soaked up the heat of the fire like a sponge, keeping you well insulated despite the impending storm. 

A content sigh left John as he carefully pushed himself to his feet. Soft trails of goosebumps prickled across his skin as he stepped away from the fire and into the cold, but he didn’t stray far before turning to face you once more. His hands reached for you where they hovered in the air, patiently waiting for you to accept his offer. 

“Come. We should eat,” he urged.  

It was not your first time putting your hands in his. He always seemed to want to hold you and gently guide you as if you did not know any better. Still, you accepted his assistance as he pulled you from the hearth. Somehow, his hands were warmer than the flames, and though you were standing on your own, he refused to let you go. 

“I meant what I said earlier,” he said, blue eyes boring into you. “I told Simon to find a wife, and if she would have me, then I would stay. If you do not wish for me to be here, say the word, little dove. Your father might have wanted for you to be under my protection, but I will not share a bed with a woman who would want someone else. I will leave no mark on this place when I go, if that’s what you wish.” 

No response rose in your mind or throat at his reminder, but a heavy fit of remorse weighed on your chest. He spoke those words as if he were the intruder. As if he had not loved Simon and lived in that house long before you ever came around. It was difficult to tell if you had fully accepted the idea that you lived with two men; though even if you hadn’t, it was something your father obviously wanted for you. Still, even if you didn’t want him around, you would not deny him the flesh and warmth of his lover. 

“Stay,” you said, voice quiet. 

John’s smile was the warmest you had ever seen. No hint of lust or darkness; only a pure appreciation for your kindness, something you felt like you weren’t capable of those days. His tongue darted out between his lips as if in anticipation, and you ignored the way it made your stomach churn. 

“Then it is done.” 

Trickling rain continued into the afternoon before it started to swell into a proper storm. Whistling wind became near deafening as it threatened to pull the house apart, and it wasn’t until the sky was black with clouds that Simon finally ceased his work and took shelter inside. With the amount of water that dripped from his clothes when he came limping into the kitchen for lunch, you were surprised he hadn’t drowned out there. Strands of hair stuck to his forehead and down the nape of his neck, and his chiton clung to his body in a way that certainly wasn’t comfortable. His frigid skin tinged pink with his scars extra angry and puffy. 

Both you and John looked up from your food at the sopping wet mess of a man who dirtied the kitchen. Simon’s chest heaved with fatigue, and his feet hardly lifted from the ground as he meandered towards John. 

“How’s the weather?” John asked facetiously. 

“Frustrating,” Simon huffed. “Can’t keep a goddamn fire lit or burnin’ hot enough.”

He paused once he approached John’s side, eyes focused on the plate of food in front of him. Without a word, he snatched a fair size of cured meat off of it before taking a bite and turning around. Simon continued his pitiful shuffle as he exited the kitchen, shoulders hunched and legs shaking. John did not appear to mourn the loss of his food, yet his eyes stayed trained unwavering on his lover’s body as he rounded the corner. 

“He seems upset,” you noted. 

“He’s in pain,” John explained. 

A clash of thunder sounded just as John rose from his chair, and he left his plate behind as he began to rummage for something around the stove. Its embers ebbed and waved with brilliant scarlet light, and it almost danced to life in flames when John knelt before it. He retrieved two medium sized, semi-flat stones tucked into the stonework and placed them on the small hearth next to the dying embers. Nodding to himself, he then turned to you, worry etched deep in his face. 

“Wait a few minutes, then grab these stones and bring them up to our chamber,” he asked while his feet began to wander out of the room. “They’ll be hot, so grab them with cloth. Take care not to burn yourself.” 

Without another word, he vanished out of the room where you then heard his feet stomping up the stairs moments later. Rain refused to quiet nor waver even as you carefully cleaned up yours and John’s plate. 

Pain? Simon was in pain? Well, John could certainly read your husband better than you could, because you thought he had just been his regular self. Still, you supposed it wasn’t entirely impossible. With as many scars that afflicted his body, you were certain the damage ran deeper than just superficial marks on his skin. 

As instructed, you waited until the rocks had soaked plenty of warmth before using the edge of your himation to grab them. With careful hands, you trekked up the stairs to the second floor where you found John and Simon in bed together. A drenched chiton sat on the floor next to the bed, but Simon’s naked body still glistened with the memory of its moisture. His chest heaved and he grunted like an animal as he slung an arm over his face, hiding his eyes from the light of the oil lamp that flickered on the nightstand. 

John’s thumbs dug into the muscle around Simon’s knees, massaging them with what appeared to be less than gentle touch. Simon hissed, jaw flexing as his teeth grinded together, yet he kept still as the man worked at him. You approached the side of the bed with hands outstretched, hot rocks tucked together underneath thick wool sitting in your palms. 

“Is he alright?” you questioned.

John paused long enough to turn and grab the stones from your hands. His fingers didn’t flinch when he grabbed them, as if he was so used to the heat of them that it no longer phased him. 

“It’s the weather,” he explained. “The old wounds in his knees are aggravated by the change.” 

You watched with apprehension as John pressed the rocks against Simon’s skin, yet your husband didn’t flinch. The tense muscles that flexed in his thighs slowly began to soften as John moved the rocks carefully around his knee, tracing the long scar that dissected his skin. It was one of the first things you noticed about him the day you got married. Deep and ugly, it ailed him so bad he couldn’t walk straight because of it; forever bound to limp in weakness despite the strong stature his body would otherwise have you believe. 

Another smaller scar mirrored in perfect continuity on his other knee. It was not as deep nor as angry, but you could clearly make out the line in which both scars connected. A blade. It must have been. There was no other weapon that you knew of that could’ve created a scar such as that. His entire body, even his face, was littered with the unsightly marks. 

Why would a blacksmith have such scars? 

John moved from one knee to the next, warm rocks soothing away the ache so deep in Simon’s body that hands alone could not heal. You quietly stole a seat on the mattress next to Simon, and you carefully watched the mesmerizing motions of John’s circling hands. He was so… soft for a soldier. Considerate. It’s a side of man you weren’t used to seeing after witnessing such violence in your home. For a while, you thought love was just violence; blood waiting to be spilled. Perhaps love was just warm rocks against tired skin. 

“What happened?” you asked with eyes still trained on the old wound. 

John’s eyes glanced up at Simon, who wasn’t able to see his gaze through the arm slung over his face. As if he felt the burn of his eyes, the man shifted on the bed before letting out a heavy sigh. 

“Tell ‘er, Johnny. Know you like tellin’ the story,” he urged. 

A grin bloomed on John’s face as he turned his attention back to Simon’s knee. “He got this from saving my life.” 

Stunned, you shifted on the mattress to get closer, and your thigh brushed against Simon’s leg. How your husband could handle the cold of your chambers completely naked and half wet was beyond you. Your body yearned for any warmth it could steal. 

“I don’t believe it,” you countered. 

Really, you didn’t. How could John MacTavish, hailed hero of your city, need any sort of saving? You didn’t at all doubt Simon’s capability of saving someone; it was just the thought that John could ever find himself in such a precarious situation that you doubted. 

“I’d never lie to you, little dove,” John chuckled. “No, Simon and I served together, once upon a time ago. Trained together. Fought together.” 

He paused his story in order to switch knees again, returning to the one closest to him. Simon’s breathing had already calmed, and he no longer panted like a mad dog. Any tension that had been harbored in his body when you first entered the chambers had almost been completely washed away. 

“Years ago both of us had been deployed in a large-scale battle. It was a bloody skirmish with swords flailing every which way, I swear the glint of metal was brighter than the sun that day,” John recalled. “But there was this big brute who fought with a club. Rivaled the size of Simon, even, which isn’t easy. Bastard snatched the shield right out of my hands and knocked his club against my chin. Split me right open and knocked me out cold.” 

A hand instinctively covered your mouth as John shared the story, and he paused for a moment to look at you. He seemed to take some sort of boyish pride in your worry, and he tilted his chin up to put his own scar on display. You had hardly noticed it before due to his stubble and your active effort to not look too many people in the eyes, but it marked his skin as clear as day. It was deep, spanning from the front of his chin and curling underneath the right side of his jaw in an angry, red line. 

“I wasn’t out long, of course, but I wasn’t all there when I woke up,” he continued. “Felt like I was underwater, could hardly breathe. Bastard stood over me ready to bash my head in like a damn melon when Simon swooped in like an eagle. Sliced him to bits before he could do anything else to me. But war is messy and unforgiving. Several others piled on him, got him pretty good. Still killed the bastards.” 

“All but one,” Simon corrected. He had been so quiet you swore he had fallen asleep. “One of ‘em ran off.” 

“He killed the bastards that weren’t cowards,” John amended with a chuckle. “But they got his knees. Surprised infection didn’t take him. But Simon, my love, stubborn man that he is, carried me off the field even with his wounds.”

“Would you rather I dragged you?” Simon asked. 

“You should’ve left me there.”

“I love you too much for that.” 

The sound of rain smothered the conversation as both men fell silent. Rotten shame boiled deep in your stomach as your eyes carefully scanned Simon’s body. Over the weeks, you had gotten so used to his unabashed nakedness to the point it didn’t phase you, but that wasn’t what made you feel shameful; it was the realization of how bitter you had been. 

On the day of your wedding when Simon lifted your veil from your face, the only thing you could think was how ugly he was. The scars that littered his body were just eyesores, and his limp didn’t make him a paragon of strength. Hardly the man that was supposed to protect you from the wicked ways of the world. How cruel you were for thinking such a thing. For looking at the scars he earned saving the life of his lover as if they were an eyesore rather than proof of his devotion. How dare you look at him as anything less than he was; a man who loved?

In an attempt to swallow down your shame, you found your own hands reaching out for Simon’s knee. The heat of his skin felt nice against your frigid hands, but he flinched at the sensation. You paused as you looked up at his half obscured face, and you didn’t look away until you felt his muscles melt and relax underneath your touch. 

In silence, you mimicked John’s movements with your thumbs. Tendons and muscle danced underneath your fingertips as you did your best to massage the pain from your husband. With hands as weak as yours, you were certain it hardly did anything to help him at all. Still, you continued, and you prayed to the gods that he could feel your silent apology through your touch alone.

#ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghoap x reader #ghost x soap x reader #soap x reader #john mactavish x reader #f!reader

[dazednmatthews]

could you write stressed college gf headcanons for chris too 👉👈 matt's are so damn cute

chris x stressed college!gf headcanons:

-something about chris you’ve noticed since you’ve been together is that he has a habit of feeding off peoples energies, but possibly in the worst way

-so when finals come around and you’re an anxious, stressed mess, so is he

-and because of that, he’s constantly looking up the material you have to study and telling you random facts about it in hopes that it helps in anyway

-“hey babe,” he says while you sit as his computer desk, highlighting things in your notes. “yeah?” you say, not tearing your gaze away from your notebook. “did you know that 95% of the ocean is still unexplored?” you do glance at him that time, eyebrows furrowed. “yes i did. why do you mention it?” “well i’ve just been reading about marine science for a couple hours and that’s just fucking insane to me”

-it never really adds anything to your review, but it makes you smile regardless at how hard he’s trying

-his support is absolutely unwavering, so as soon as you start to doubt yourself or talk down to yourself, he’s there to put a full stop to that shit

-“i’m never gonna fucking pass,” you flop back in his bed, blowing a frustrated breath out. “i can’t remember any of this shit and it won’t matter how long i spent studying because i’m gonna get in the exam room and absolutely choke-”

-“stop talking about yourself like that.” he’d cut you off. “you’ve been working nonstop to pass this test and you’re like the smart person i’ve ever met. i don’t wanna hear any of that. the more you say it, the more you’ll believe it and it’s just not fucking true. understood?”

-it makes your heart do backflips

-i think he’d be the type to pack you a big of snacks or a meal for days he knows you’re gonna be in the library all day studying

-you’d come up to the living room with your bag slung over your shoulder and your hair still wet from the shower and place a kiss on his cheek as you leave. “i’m going to study, baby. i’ll probably be back late.”

-“thats fine, ma. don’t stress yourself out too much.” he’d pause the show he was watching and turn in his seat on the couch slightly. “i made you some food to take with you. make sure you eat it, i worked hard on that.”

-“chris, this is so sweet. you’d didn’t have to do this.”

-he’d give you a strange look. “why wouldn’t i? i need my girl to be taken care of. plus i knew you would ignore me if i told you to eat. shit is so annoying.” he’d roll his eyes while you shrug.

-“oh fuck off. sometimes i just forget.”

-he would also help you study, using all the guides you’ve done. he’s soooo the type of bf to give a kiss for every right answer too. it keeps you motivated and keeps him happy. kissing you is his favorite thing to do after all.

-when you would get so stressed and anxious about failing you would cry, his heart would actually break

-you would be on like hour six straight with no breaks and he would close your books, starting to put everything away

-“chris, what the fuck are you doing! i have so much more to do.”

-“no. you’re driving yourself crazy and it’s not good for you. you’re done for tonight. i’m gonna run you a bath and then we’ll watch a movie.”

-you’d pretend to be mad but actually be so grateful he could see you were close to breaking down. to be loved is to be known

-chris goes with you in the morning and waits for you in the car while you take your test

-he’s waiting for you outside on the hood of your car when you come out, wringing his hands nervously to hear how you did

-when he sees the sad look on your face he instantly goes to grab you and make you feel better

-but when you told him that you passed w flying colors he is so proud of you he nearly cried.

-“yes! that’s my girl! i knew you could do it, baby. my girlfriend, the scholar.” and he’s peppering kisses all over your face while hugging you tightly

-you soak in the moment with a warm heart because you have the best boyfriend in the world and it baffles you just how much he believes in you. you are so in love with him

-and he loves you exactly the same

TAGS:

@sturnioloco @peachmels @sugrhigh @tastesousweet @rootbeerworshiper @hollandsangel @sturnolio-luvs @mattsobvimyfav @misscocodiorsblog @ilovechrisssturniolo @pepsiboyy @braindead4l @mxqdii @fawnchives @hearts4chriss @certifiednatelover @nmegamett20 @imaslut4kehlani @dominicfikue @wovenribbons @streamermattsgf @pr1ncessmatt @pinksturniolo @yourfavoritefangirl @nickmillersn1gf @freshxsturniolo @sturniolobltch @mattspolitank @lookingformyromeo @alorsxsturn @imwetforyourmom @kiarastromboli @sleepysturnss @mattscoquette @sturncakez @inkyray @simply-a-simper @lanas-doll @wh0resstuff @hypnotizedsturn @riowritesitall @kitaysworld @h3arts4harry @fikefries @conspiracy-ash @matty-bear @always-reading @thehighgrounds

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo edit #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo texts #chris sturniolo headcanon #chris sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo headcanon #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo imagine #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo x reader

[punkshort]

if you get time could i ask you do like before she got hurt like waking up with joel that day and all that and then up until she leaves, if that makes sense

Thank you so much for this request, I would love to!

Enjoy a little extra before our final chapter this Saturday ❤️

Before

An I Know Who You Are drabble

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings: smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex, dirty talk, daddy kink, fluff, language

WC: ~1500

"Joel, c'mon, Tommy's gonna kick my ass if I'm late again," you giggled as he rolled you over and pinned you into the mattress with his hips.

"I'd like to see him try. You'd have him knocked out in a heartbeat," he replied, gathering your wrists in his hand and pressing them into the pillow above your head while his mouth descended on your throat.

You sighed and tilted your chin up to give him better access as he ground his erection against your center. Your resolve was crumbling and you both knew it.

"Fine, we gotta be quick," you relented, and before you could even finish your sentence he was tugging your sleep shorts off with his free hand. "What's gotten into you today? You're not exactly a morning person," you said, watching with excitement as he pulled his cock out of his sweatpants.

"Dunno. Just gotta have you, is that a crime?" but before you could answer his mouth covered yours, stealing all the air from your lungs. Your legs fell open underneath him and you bucked your hips, patrol suddenly the furthest thing from your mind. He swiped the tip of his cock through your folds and he hissed, breaking the kiss and causing you to whine. "Fuck, you dirty thing. Look at how soaked you are f'me."

"Don't tease me," you scolded with a pout, and he chuckled.

"So sorry, baby," he leaned down and pressed another kiss against your lips. "Don't worry. I'll give you somethin' to remember me by today." Before you could reply, he notched himself at your opening and slowly eased in, earning a sharp gasp from you followed by a deep moan. Your fingers curled around his hand, still pinned above your head as he fed you his cock nice and slow, watching your face as you took him inch by inch. He never got tired of seeing you like that. All docile and at his mercy. You were so strong. A survivor. A fighter, in a way. Something deep inside him got excited seeing you so submissive. And it was all for him.

When he was fully seated, you both let out a rush of breath before your lips locked once again. He began to roll his hips, dragging in and out slowly and deliberately, just the way you liked it. Your legs tensed up and you dug your heels into the backs of his thighs, holding him close to you since your arms were still rendered useless.

"Just like that," you whispered, biting at his lower lip. He growled when you tugged his lip between your teeth and you smirked, letting it go. You could practically feel every ridge and vein when he fucked you that way. Every thrust was purposeful, every kiss was deep, every groan was cherished. He always liked to fuck you slow and you loved it, but unfortunately that particular morning, you were on a tight schedule. So you decided to say something to speed things up.

"Fuck, daddy, you're so deep."

His hips stalled and his eyes snapped up to yours. He didn't even need to say anything to know your words had the exact reaction you were looking for.

"You haven't called me that in a very long time," he said lowly, his eyes darkening. You grinned and squirmed in his hold.

"Well, you haven't woken me up like this in a very long time," you shot back, "thought it was only fitting."

He hummed and ticked his jaw to the side as he considered your answer. Before you knew it, he had pulled out and flipped you over, yanking your hips up while your cheek remained smushed into your purple quilt. He released your wrists in favor of pressing that hand into your upper back, but it didn't matter in the position you found yourself, anyway. You felt him hovering at your entrance once again and you wiggled your ass enticingly, your slick smeared around your inner thighs as you waited.

"Say it again."

Your breath caught in your throat at his domineering tone.

"Please fuck me, daddy."

He groaned and slammed into you, causing you to cry out in surprise but your body quickly welcomed him back inside. Gone was the slow, gentle way he usually fucked you. Now his hips slapped against your ass with reckless abandon while his hand snaked around your waist and played with your clit. You immediately saw stars. Your jaw hung open in a silent scream as he rammed into you over and over, pushing you both towards the edge. You reached behind you blindly, searching for his arm to hold onto as he dragged you to your peak.

"You gonna come for daddy? Hmm?"

"Yes!" you cried out, "Fuck! Daddy, I need it so bad."

His head fell back onto his shoulders as he moaned, his pace relentless now, each thrust shoving you further and further up the bed. Fingers digging into your hips, he pounded into you from behind, feeling your body, reading its cues, listening to your noises... everything he memorized by now to warn him you were close.

Your grip on his arm tightened and you gasped. A triumphant smile spread across his face as you came, moaning his name while your pussy fluttered around him, sucking him in and pulling him over the edge with you.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh f-" he pulled out at the last second and came all over your ass with a deep groan, watching in a daze as each burst of his seed covered your skin and dripped down your legs.

He collapsed on top of you, pinning you into the bed, his chest heaving. He nipped at your jaw, his coarse whiskers harsh against your sensitive skin but you just smiled and sighed with your eyes slid shut.

"As much as I want to stay here all day, I -"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Joel said with a grunt as he hoisted himself up. You giggled and waited for him to return with a wet washcloth, cleaning you up so you could dress and head downstairs.

He cooked you eggs and poured your coffee, setting both on the table right as you entered the kitchen.

"You'll need your strength," he explained when you looked at the eggs. You quirked an eyebrow at him but gave in, sitting down to shovel in the breakfast he so sweetly made for you. It wasn't until you were nearly done that you noticed he only had coffee.

"What about you?" you asked around a mouthful of food.

"I'll be fine. I don't got patrol today. I'm just helpin' Maria fix a dresser for Violet."

You furrowed your brow but let it go. He was always looking out for you and never himself, something that you scolded him for in the past more than once. You knew he had gone through a lot with Sarah, and then later, Ellie. He struggled a lot with the decisions he made and you tried your best to give him some grace, but you also loved him deeply and wanted him to take care of himself.

You wanted him to love himself as much as you loved him.

Your eyes raked over his broad shoulders straining against his blue flannel, which he left unbuttoned, revealing a black T-shirt underneath. Somehow your body still craved him, even though you just had him thirty minutes prior.

"I'll walk you to the barn and tell Tommy to fuck off if he says anythin'," he assured you as he rinsed your plate, your coffee mugs left abandoned on the counter for later.

"My hero," you teased.

As you walked together down the relatively quiet street, your arm casually looped through his while he carried your backpack with his other hand, you couldn't seem to wipe the stupid smile from your face, knowing you would be thinking about the morning you shared for the rest of the day.

"Be careful out there," he murmured, handing you your pack before cupping your face with both hands and staring deep into your eyes. "I love you."

You felt yourself melt into his touch. "I love you, too."

He leaned forward and pressed his lips gently against yours, slowly deepening the kiss, not caring who was around to see because you both knew no one would dare say anything to him about it.

With a sigh, he pulled back and rested your foreheads together. "Maybe later we can tend to the garden. Frost is comin' soon."

"Okay," you said softly, giving him one more kiss before stepping backwards. You could hear Tommy and Jesse talking in the barn and you knew you had to go.

"I'll see you later," you said, continuing to walk backwards with a grin.

"Can't wait," Joel replied, and he didn't move from his spot until you disappeared inside the barn, neither of you knowing your lives were about to change.

#ask #anon ask #ikwya fic #drabble

[waywardcrow]

I’m back!!! Kind of 😅. I loved this request and this is my first Natasha fic so I loved it more, this was written very quick so please excuse any mistakes.

You felt out of place, you probably should go back to your lab and forget all about this but you couldn't. Natasha came back after a month long mission and you missed her, besides she looked different.

It was hard to tell what was it but for some reason you knew, something was off.

After making a quick stop in the kitchen, you went straight to Nat's office, knocking the door softly but it was too late, you saw her wipe her eyes.

"I- hi, I, sorry" you mumbled, embarassment for you and concern for her twisting your stomach "I brought you hot chocolate"

The readhead spy cleared her throat, taking control of her features and just like that, all the vulnerability vanished.

"Thanks, sweetheart"

She took the cup in her pale hands and it was very hard to don't get close to her to give her a hug.

"Are you ok?"

"Of course" her answer, fast and short, made you wince.

"The mission-" you started but Natasha got up from the chair, avoiding your gaze.

"I have to go" she said, taking her things to leave you there, feeling like an idiot.

A few days after that, you still felt bad. Who did you think you were? Going to the Natasha Romanoff and act like you were friends? Sure, she was nice to you every time she came to the lab to visit Tony but that was it, you were the one who had a hopeless crush on her and now she probably would never speak to you again.

"You should go home, cricket" your boss reminded you.

"Say the pot to the kettle or whatever"

Tony laughed at your sleep deprived response but when he was about to say something else, he saw a certain someone in the door.

"You know what, you are right, night cricket"

And he left, making sure you were busy with your notes and sending a wink to Natasha.

"You should listen to him" were the first words the readhead said, making you yell "didn't mean to scare you, sweetheart"

"No, I'm fine, I just didn't hear you come in"

Taking in her appareance, your anxiety rocketed. Nat was wearing one of your favorite hoodies and leggins, her hair braided to keep it out of the way. She looked beautiful as always but it was almost like she was ready to run away at any moment.

"I wanted to check on you, I haven't see you in a couple days"

Turning in your seat to see her better, you took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, for the other day. I didn't want to intrude" you started but Nat closed the distance between you two.

"Please don't apologize, sweetheart" she sat on your desk, making your heart beat out of tune "you did nothing wrong"

"I- I saw you crying" you mentally slapped yourself after the words left your mouth, what the hell was happening go you?

Natasha pursed her lips and in that moment you were sure she would leave again but instead of that, she looked at her hands.

"There was a problem, with the mission" she said and this time you didn't stop yourself to reach for her.

"Do you- do you want to talk about it?"

Natasha looked at your hands together and sighed.

"Not yet, maybe later" with tenderness, she put her other hand on top of yours "what I mean with this is, I don't want to push you away, not you"

Were you dreaming? Was she saying what you think she was saying? It was impossible. But with the hint of honesty in her green eyes it was hard to doubt her.

"Then don't" you whispered with hope in your voice "I'm here"

A tiny yet beautiful smile appeared on her lips, maybe she wasn't ready to be herself completely with someone else but for you, she will try.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x gender neutral reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff fluff

[sunshinepanic]

Unexpected 3

Pairing: Rafe Cameron X Reader

Summary: If someone had told you exactly what was going to happen when you left the boneyard with Rafe you never would have believed them.

Chapter Warning: JJ is kind of a douche, Angst, fluff, smut

Not beta read we die like men

WC: 2,062

OBX Masterlist - Series Masterlist

Finishing off your night eating pizza while sitting on Rafe’s kitchen counter in Tannyhill was not how you expected to end your night, but here you are. After Rafe found you at the boneyard all alone, he drove you back to Tannyhill so he could give you back your skateboard that he had left in his bedroom. As you followed him into the giant house, you couldn’t help but feel out of place. Everything was so extravagant that you were afraid if you moved wrong, you would ruin something you would never be able to afford to pay his family back for. Rafe, seemingly able to sense your feelings, smiled at you. “Relax, Sunshine. I know it’s a lot to get used to, but I promise you, even if you set something on fire in the living room, no one would notice. Besides, my family is out of town with Wheezie right now.” You felt some of the tension leave your shoulders as he caused you to laugh, and he continued to lead you through the house to the kitchen. Rafe opened the fridge and pulled out a soda for you and a beer for himself before asking you what kind of pizza you wanted. Once Rafe placed your order, you and him fell into an easy conversation. 

Once the pizza was delivered, you found yourself sitting on the kitchen counter eating while Rafe stood across from you. Every time he would finish a piece of pizza, he would gently throw his crust at you, causing you to squeal and duck out of the way while he laughed and claimed he was trying to throw it back in the box and not at you. You dodged the last crust he threw at you, tossing your own at him and smacking him in the chest with it. “So I have a serious question for you.” Rafe quirked his eyebrow at you. “Ok shoot.” You stared at him for a moment before asking. “Why do you call me sunshine?” The question seemed to startle a laugh out of Rafe. “You really want to know?” When you continued to stare at him, Rafe relented. “The first time I ever saw you, you were running around with John B and JJ, and you had the most intense resting bitch face I had ever seen. You were intimidating as hell, and I remember someone saying, “Well, isn’t she just a ray of sunshine?” And I thought it fit you perfectly.” After a few moments of silence, you doubled over in laughter. You couldn’t believe all this time he has been calling you sunshine because of your resting bitch face. 

Once your laughter died down, Rafe got a curious look on his face as he asked you, “So how are things with JJ? Are you doing okay?" You took a minute to think about your answer. “Things are a little awkward, but that’s expected. I love Kie and JJ, and I want them to be happy. It just hurts how he went about everything, but I’ll be fine. JJ is acting weird towards me a little, but I figure he’s just worried because of how everything went down.” Rafe nodded along as you spoke. “Well, I’m glad you are feeling better about everything. I know how you felt about him, even if I don’t get the appeal at all.” You laughed and threw another pizza crust at him for the subtle jab he threw in about JJ. “You actually helped me with that a lot. I was in my head about it, but you helped distract me and get me out of my own head. That reminds me.” You remembered the bracelet you made for him and removed it from your other bracelets. You quickly toss it at him. His eyes widen as he catches it. “I made this for you. I know it’s not a lot, and you will probably think it’s stupid, I don’t expect you to wear it or anything, but I wanted to give you something to say thanks for the other night.” Rafe looked down at the bracelet, running his thumb across the little sun charm you had woven into it. No one had ever given him something; they actually put time and effort into making him. Usually, people opt to just throw money at him or randomly buy something expensive with no thought behind it. Just when you were starting to feel really stupid about the whole situation, Rafe’s big hands were cupping your face, and his lips were crashing against your own. You startled for a moment, as you didn’t even register him moving towards you, but you quickly reciprocated the kiss, gripping onto his broad shoulders. 

If kissing JJ knocked the wind out of you, kissing Rafe was like being set on fire. Your entire body felt like a live wire, and you were hyper-aware of every point of contact. Rafe’s hands found their way to your hips, and he bit your lip as he gripped them, causing you to moan. Rafe took the opportunity to lick his way into your mouth. You buried your hands in his hair as your hips rolled against him, feeling his growing erection pressing against you. Rafe pulled back from the kiss, breathing heavily, and it jerked you out of your daze. You felt panic start to set in. This couldn’t happen to you again. You knew he was just fucking with you. God damn it, how fucking pathetic could you be? He was probably going to tell everyone about this and how delusional you were to think he would actually give you the time of day. Then Rafe’s rough voice cut through your internal monologue. “Is this okay? Do you want me to stop?” You focused back on him, noticing that he wasn’t pulling away, and he looked like he genuinely just wanted to make sure you were okay with this. Panting, you nodded your head, not trusting your voice, and surged forward to kiss him again.

Rafe’s hands slid under your hips as he hoisted you off the kitchen counter, causing you to wrap your legs around his waist. Somehow he managed to maneuver you up the stairs and to his bedroom, where he kicked the door shut and gently let you down. You slid your hands under Rafe’s shirt, and he quickly pulled it over his head. You left kisses across his chest as your hands got to work on removing his belt and jeans. Once you got his pants undone, they fell to the ground, and you dropped to your knees on the plush carpet, kissing your way down his body. Rafe groaned at the sight of you looking up at him as you slowly pulled his black boxer briefs down his muscular thighs. Rafe’s chest was heaving as you looked up at him from your position on your knees, and you slowly leaned forward, licking a stripe up his hard length, causing his head to fall back and a moan to fall from his lips. There was something so exhilarating about how you had him completely naked and wanting while you were still fully clothed. Rafe quickly looked back down at you as you took his length into your warm mouth. Your eyes slipped shut in concentration as you tried to take all of him into your mouth. You feel him thread his fingers through your hair. “Eyes up here, baby. Take your time.” Maintaining eye contact with Rafe as he moaned and praise fell from his lips caused you to clench your thighs together, looking for some sort of relief. 

You take what you can’t fit into your mouth in your hand and slowly guide him back into your mouth. You maintain eye contact as your tongue moves slowly under the ridge and around his tip, causing his breathing to become faster. As you increase suction, you feel him straining to hold back his orgasm. The next thing you know, Rafe is hauling you up from the ground and tossing you on the bed. It startles a laugh out of you, but then he quickly covers your body with his own. He slides his hands up under his sweatshirt as he’s kissing you. Leaning back, he helps you sit up to remove it. Noticing you aren’t wearing anything underneath, he lets out a groan as his eyes catch on the baby blue barbells that adorn your puffy nipples. “God damn it, you’re perfect.” Rafe quickly leans down, attaching his mouth to one nipple and then the next, causing you to moan and arch into his warm mouth. He takes his time alternatingly kissing your breasts and playing with your nipple rings with his tongue while he undoes your shorts, slipping them off and throwing them across the room.

He slowly works his way down your body, maintaining eye contact, and places a kiss on your black silk panties. “Look at you; you’re so wet, and I’ve barely even touched you, Sunshine. Did sucking my cock make you this wet?” You let out a pitiful whine, bucking your hips towards his face. Chuckling, he pins your hips to the mattress as he slowly peels the damp fabric away. “Use your words, baby.” Whining, you relent. “Yes. It’s all because of you. Please touch me.” A predatory smile slides across his beautiful face. “Good girl.” He dives down, licking a broad stripe up your center, causing you to moan. Sitting up on your elbows, you are mesmerized as he laps at your core like you are the sweetest thing he has ever tasted. You toss your head back as Rafe waists no time pushing two fingers into your needy core. His fingers are so long and thick, hitting all the spots you can never manage to reach by yourself. You can feel your orgasm approaching as your walls start to tighten around his thick fingers, but before you can crash over the edge, Rafe pulls away, causing you to whimper at the sudden empty feeling. Chuckling Rafe shushes you as he crawls back over your body. "Shh, shh, it’s ok, baby. I’m going to make you feel so good. I promise. But the first time I make you cum, I want it to be on my cock.” He smirks as he guides his tip to your entrance. All of the air is knocked out of you as you feel him slowly start to sink into you. You wrap your legs around his waist and dig your nails into his back at the almost painful stretch. You weren’t a virgin by any means, but he was definitely bigger than anyone you had ever been with. Once he was fully seated inside you, he gave you a few minutes to adjust while kissing you passionately. When he started making shallow thrusts, you moaned at the feeling, spurring him to go faster and a bit harder. "God, Sunshine, look at you; you’re taking me so well.” The praise falling from his lips, along with the bruising grip he had on your hips and the exquisite feeling of him pounding into you, was pushing you rapidly towards your release. Rafe could feel your orgasm getting closer as you moaned louder. “I know, baby. I’ve got you.” You feel his hand move, and his thumb starts to rub tight circles over your aching clit. You feel your walls start to convulse around him as your back arches and stars flash behind your eyes. You dig your nails into his back once again, triggering his release. You feel him spasm inside of your sensative walls as you slowly come down from your high.

After a few minutes of catching your breath, Rafe carefully slips out of you and makes his way to the en-suite bathroom. Before you can start to feel awkward, Rafe reappears with a damp cloth and gently cleans you up, wiping over your sensitive pussy with the cool cloth. Once he’s finished, he tosses the cloth somewhere in the room as he lays down and wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you into his warm chest. Surrounded by Rafe’s woodsy scent and his heartbeat in your ear, you start to drift off. You know that you should talk about what just happened, but before you can say anything, sleep pulls you under.

Next

Tags: @starkeys-world @nnarellia @iluvanakinskywalker @maybankslover @hazzarules @my-fabulouseness-has-arrived @fishingirl12 @redhead1180 @esquivelbianca

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe obx #rafe x reader #rafe x you #rafe outer banks #rafe smut #rafe imagine #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe fanfic #rafe fic #rafe cameron fic #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey smut #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey fanfic #drew starkey fanfiction #outerbanks smut #outerbanks imagine #outerbanks x reader #outerbanks fic #rafe cameron thoughts #rafe Cameron smut #rafe Cameron x y/n #Rafe x y/n

[faetima]

THE AVEN + HANAHAKI THING YESSS I'VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT THIS FOR SO LONG BECAUSE LIKE. I know it's always super angsty when it's the reader that gets hanahaki but rine having it. imagine pushing your s/o away because you don't think you can do a relationship rn just to get hit by the stupid idiot in love disease. damn sucks to be you man

(tbh hanahaki as fun as the angst is I love aventurine so much and usually just alter hanahaki to be like less deadly because a) I DONT WANT TO BE SAD and b) the whole guilt of "I developed hanahaki because of you now love me or I WILL die" feels strange to me)(but also yum angst and the consequences of pushing someone away) ((sorry I talk a lot teehee okay bye))

𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐫. 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠. .

. . too bad he wasn't your darling anymore.

// tws ; slight cursing, blood ; gn reader ; modern au, hanahaki au 

a/n: finally wrote the aventurine exes hanahaki au lol ,, had no idea how to finish this but i might make a part 2 !! :3

ever since you had started dating aventurine, you felt like you were a burden to him in some way. but you were never sure if you were actually a burden to him, or if that was your mind playing tricks on you.

but last week had just solidified your beliefs.

you both had fought over something petty--you couldn't be bothered to remember what it was--and harsh words had been thrown around in the process.

words that cut deep into you, practically making you bleed out.

and after that?

aventurine had ignored you for the rest of the entire week. he hadn't even glanced in your direction. it was fine if he needed some space to think, but he didn't even tell you, he just started fucking ignoring you.

your efforts to talk to him had just been met by blank uninterested violet eyes.

everything that happened in the last week had all led up to yesterday.

you stood in front of his door, swallowing your nerves. why were you so nervous?

after everything that happened, everything you felt, everything he said, you didn't think you could handle a relationship at that point.

so, when aventurine answered the door, his blonde hair unruly and lavender eyes tired, you took a deep breath and finally said the words you had been so scared of saying.

"i want to break up."

--

now, you were rethinking your decision.

on one hand, it felt like a large weight had been lifted off your shoulders.

on the other hand, breaking up with him had left you in your current predicament: crouched on the cold tiled floor of your apartment, hurling up bright yellow marigolds. you coughed them up, unwillingly watching as they hit your newly polished floor. they hit the ground ungracefully, clumped together with a disgusting mixture of mucus and blood. you gagged on the flowers as the sickly sweet smell of the marigolds hit you, making you feel lightheaded and sick to your stomach.

you didn't think you would get the disease again after aventurine asked you out.

you had it once, albeit briefly. it was before you had even talked to aventurine, too scared to do so. maybe it had been your shyness, or maybe you were just scared of rejection. you weren't too sure which, but it had caused you to cough out a few lemon yellow petals.

but, as quickly as the disease had started, it had ended. aventurine talked to you and started getting close to you, and your hanahaki had eventually diminished into nothing. after that, you thought it would never start again.

but you guessed you were wrong, since the disease decided to plague you.

marigold petals--slick with mucus--fell out your mouth as you coughed your lungs out. they fell almost gracefully onto the small flower pile.

you took fast and shaky breaths, collapsing. you were too exhausted to move, the hanahaki sucking all the life out of you.

--

it had been a week now, and the disease had just gotten worse. at this rate, it would only take a month or two until you suffocated on the fucking marigolds.

you could talk to aventurine, but he would probably just ignore you again.

you could get the surgery, but you would rather die than forget aventurine. you still loved him.

at this point, you couldn't do anything but hope that the disease would just somehow go away.

--

aventurine was growing increasingly worried as the days passed.

he hadn't seen you at all after you had broken up. sure, that was normal, but his gut told him something was wrong.

horrible thoughts of what could've happened to you plagued his mind, and he couldn't take it anymore.

he grabbed his keys, his coat, and headed towards your apartment.

maybe it was an invasion of privacy, but even your friends felt as if something were terribly wrong. he'd just check on you once, and never speak to you again. you'd be okay with that, right?

--

aventurine had knocked about a dozen times by now, but had received no answer.

he swallowed. he still had a spare key to your apartment, but what if you didn't want him to come in? what if you were just busy? what if he was breaching your privacy?

he took a shaky inhale.

fuck it.

--

he stepped inside your apartment, and was hit by the extremely potent smell of marigolds.

he glanced around, and froze at what he saw.

#୨୧ -- aventurine #aventurine x reader #aventurine #hsr aventurine #hanahaki #hanahaki au #modern #modern au #angst #hanahaki disease #light angst #shy reader #how to angst #aventurine come home #pls #might make a part 2 #you can tell i've never been in a relationship before #anyways hopefully yhis was acceptable

[television-overload]

of our own making

(an X-Files fanfic)

Oh hey, look, it's that massive story I've been working on since January! I'm so thankful to everyone who has shown interest in the concept of this fic and the little snippets I've posted. You've been more help than you know. Without that support, I don't think this would have ever gotten finished.

A special thanks to @numinousmysteries who kindly beta read for me and did a fantastic job. I wanted to make sure I got this right, and she was a great help!

And now I can't wait to share this with you all! New chapters posted daily!

[Read on AO3]

Chapter 1/34 - ink and paper

How long has he been thinking about this, she wonders. What exactly is he thinking? Her mind races, trying to reconcile this Mulder whose deepest desires are spilled out here in ink on worn and crinkled brochures with the one she’s spent nearly every day with these past several months.

She'd never have guessed...

Find out if adoption is right for you! Visit us at 8080 Meadowlark Ln. Annapolis, MD “A Home for Every Child!”

Scully stares down at the brochure on the desk. One of many, which are half buried underneath a pile of paperwork from their current case. Certain words and phrases are circled in pen, underlined, annotated in the margins in the familiar scrawl she knows almost better than her own.

stability – less travel? change in division? discuss with Scully

loving home – ask Frohike for real estate agent #

The word “family” is circled three times.

She swallows with some difficulty, finding—to her dismay—that her hands are shaking. Mulder will be arriving any second, and here she is, frozen like a statue.

How long has he been thinking about this, she wonders. What exactly is he thinking? Her mind races, trying to reconcile this Mulder whose deepest desires are spilled out here in ink on worn and crinkled brochures with the one she’s spent nearly every day with these past several months.

She’d never have guessed…

“Morning, partner,” his voice calls out, and she jolts in surprise. She hears the door snick shut behind him, but she can’t bring herself to turn around. With deft fingers, she pushes the brochure back under the stack of papers where she found it, only the colorful corner of the page visible.

“Morning, Mulder,” she tries, clearing her throat. It comes out strained, but she hopes he doesn’t notice. She hides her trembling hands in her lap under the desk.

He looks down at her, half amused, half concerned. “You okay? You're not getting that stomach bug that's been going around, are you?”

“I'm fine,” she answers defensively, warning him to back off. She grabs a file off the desk in front of her with a little more force than necessary, plopping it open.

‘Okayyy,’ he mouths exaggeratedly, eyebrows raised. He sits down at his desk and leafs through some papers sitting on top, arranging them into neater stacks. When he uncovers the brochures, his eyes widen and he clears his throat, hurriedly covering them with other papers and trying to act natural.

Scully thinks about letting it go and pretending she doesn’t know what he’s hiding, but she knows she won’t be able to sleep until she finds out what’s been going on in that ridiculous head of his. 

She idly flips to the next page of the file in her hand, displaying a confidence she doesn’t feel in the firm set of her shoulders

“Doing some light reading, Mulder?” she asks, attempting to look disinterested.

His head shoots up, a look of alarm on his face. For a second he thinks she might be talking about something else, that she couldn’t possibly know, but one look at her throws that theory right out the window. He glances back and forth between her and the papers on the desk a few times before dropping his shoulders in defeat.

“I’m sorry, Scully, you weren’t supposed to see those,” he says, shuffling all the brochures into a pile while carefully avoiding eye contact. “I was working here late last night. I must have forgotten to put them away.” As he speaks, he opens the top drawer of his desk and shoves them inside, then takes a seat at his desk. His nose is buried in a file before she can even respond.

She watches him now. He is a curiosity, determinedly feigning concentration on a case she knows he finds disinteresting and a waste of time.

Typical.

“You're really not going to say anything?” she asks, arms crossed in front of her.

That rankles him. “What do you want me to say?” he asks, indignation boiling below the surface.

She looks at him incredulously, the file in front of her all but forgotten.

“You're thinking of adoption? When were you planning to share this with me?”

He sighs and shakes his head, pleading silently with her. “It's too soon, Scully. I didn't think you'd want to hear it yet.”

“But you're looking into it because…”

“It's just been on my mind, that's all.”

She stares at him, brows furrowed.

“Since when?”

Since when… Images flash of a life he didn’t recognize. His sister, alive and grown up. A quiet suburban neighborhood. Cancer Man living just down the street. A wife and kids, but not the right ones. It was wrong, all of it was wrong.

“A hallucinatory trip into an alternate universe tends to make you think,” he answers simply.

He’s looking at her now, deadly serious despite the joking tone. She doesn’t respond. Can’t respond.

“I'm sorry, I didn't want to bring all this up,” he continues. “I know it's a sore spot for you.”

It takes her a moment to conjure words from her mouth, her lips moving but no sound coming out. “I just wasn't expecting…”

“For all I know, this isn't even something you'd want.”

What does she say to that? Is she interested? 

“I– I'm not sure. I've never really considered it before.”

He waits, his eyes assessing her for some hidden meaning, some insight into her state of mind. He gets nothing. She’s totally blank.

“Well… what do you want?” He thought the question was innocuous enough, safer territory than straight up asking her if she wants to adopt, but apparently not.

She shuts her folder, abruptly standing and slinging her purse over her shoulder. “I'm going back to the crime scene,” she declares, changing the subject. “I want to see if there's anything we missed.”

“Scully…” he tries.

“Not now, Mulder.” Without even taking the time to put her coat on, she flees, leaving the door partially open in her rush to get away. Cursing under his breath, Mulder grabs his coat from its hook and hurries after her.

The elevator doors are almost all the way closed by the time he catches up, but in this case, he figures it’s worth the potential loss of a limb. He throws his hand between the closing gap in the metal doors, and it bounces back open to allow him entrance, to the extreme displeasure of one Dana Scully. He wisely stays silent in the elevator, stealing glances at her every few seconds out of the corner of his eye as they ascend. He can feel the frigid air coming off her in waves. It’s been a while since he’s seen her this annoyed with him, this eager to get away.

He won’t let her. Not this time. He’s learned from his mistakes.

In the parking garage, she's walking briskly, heels clicking on the concrete, and he has to pick up the pace to keep up with surprisingly agile little legs.

He didn’t want this confrontation. There was a reason he was keeping his research a secret. This is exactly what he was hoping to avoid, at least until the time was right to carefully drop some hints here and there. But now? There’s no carefully about it. No option to wait and let this blow over. There’s only one way out of this at this point, and unfortunately, that way is through.

He picks up the pace.

“You're the one who brought this up, Scully, I was perfectly happy throwing those brochures in my drawer and not saying a word.” 

His voice echoes in the concrete parking structure, sounding harsh even to his own ears. As frustrated as he is with her, that isn’t his intent. He only wants to know what he can do to help her, how he can help her fulfill her dreams. He lets out a breath, and with it, releases his selfish frustration. She’s still walking away at a breakneck pace, and he doesn’t know how he can get her to stop and face this. 

“If you want to talk about it, let's talk about it,” he says, pleading. “I can't help you if I don't know what you want. You want me to shut up, never mention the subject again?” he shouts, throwing his hands in the air, “Fine, just tell me. What do you want, Scully?”

“I just want to be a mom, okay?” she yells, whirling around to face him. Her words instantly silence him, and he watches stone-faced as tears spring in her eyes. “I see all these other moms out there and think… I could do that too. Why can’t I do that too?”

Well, mission accomplished. The truth is finally out there. Part of him feels bad for pushing her, but the other part knows that it was doing her no good to keep her feelings bottled up inside to deal with by herself. He reaches out a hand, intending to comfort her, his eyes softening in sympathy. 

“You could. Scully, you’d be the best mom.”

She flinches away, stepping out of his reach. “You don’t know that, Mulder. I can’t even—even my body is even telling me no. Over and over.” She resumes her brisk walk to her car, and he thinks he sees her brush angrily at her face, no doubt wiping away the evidence of the stubborn tears that have managed to escape.

He rushes to get in front of her, walking backwards so he can keep her in his sight. 

“When has that ever stopped you?” he asks. “You had cancer, and you kept fighting. You’re alive today because you refused to give up when your body quit on you. What about that?” He stops abruptly, forcing her to come to a halt before she crashes into him.

There’s no way out of this, is there? Her shoulders slump in defeat.

“You saved me, Mulder,” she admits quietly, shaking her head. “You’re the one who didn’t give up. Not me. It was only because you were with me that I survived.”

This time, when she goes to walk away, he stops her, placing a hand on her shoulder. The simple touch causes her to freeze, hardly breathing, and when he steps closer, she stays. His hands slide down her shoulders, holding her securely in place to ensure that his next words come through loud and clear.

“I’m gonna be with you here on this too, I promise.” His thumbs brush back and forth on the fabric of her sleeves, for his comfort or hers, she’s not sure. “You can still be a mother, Scully. I’ll help you.”

She shakes her head, her heart feeling like it has been ripped to shreds. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.” He gives her a little shake for emphasis. She still won’t look at him. “You’ve kept me alive all these years, how much harder could a baby be?”

That gets a breathy chuckle from her, and her head falls to her chest. Groaning with the agony of this burden on her heart, she stops fighting it and leans into him. Without hesitation, he wraps an arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his embrace.

Her hand comes up to find purchase on his suit jacket, relishing in the comfort only he can provide. She’s past caring if anyone sees them like this here. Let them talk. They already do, anyway.

“Well, at least when you wake me up in the middle of the night, you’re not crying,” she speaks into his chest.

She feels him shrug, and can almost see the goofy smile she knows she put on his lips.

“Usually.”

She looks up at him with her chin on his sternum before taking a deep breath and pulling away.

“It's raining,” he says softly, glancing down at her and brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “We can go back to the crime scene later.” She nods, unsure what else to say. She allows herself to be led, his ever-present hand brushing against her back as they start toward the basement.

“Adoption,” Scully mutters to herself, shaking her head in disbelief. “I don’t know, Mulder. This—this is different than IVF. With that, all I was asking for was your…” her eyes dart around, looking anywhere but at him, “genetic material. This is something entirely different.”

He’s pleased she’s at least considering it, but she doesn’t get it at all, if that’s what she thinks.

“How? ‘Cause from where I’m standing, the process of getting a baby is a little different, but in the long run, the result is the same.”

She pauses, looking at him in confusion. “What– what are you saying?”

He runs a hand awkwardly through his hair, suddenly taking a unique interest in his shoes and the floor of the parking structure.

“Yeah, we probably should have talked about this before…”

“Talked about what?”

He sighs and guides her into a stairwell. It’s stuffy and poorly-lit with a flickering lightbulb, but here, there’s less of a chance they’ll be overheard.

“Look, Scully, I don’t know what you had in mind for my involvement beyond contributing to half the baby’s DNA when you first asked me to help you get pregnant,” he starts, fighting hard to meet her eyes instead of shying away. “But, I– I had hoped it would be a little more than ‘Say hi to Uncle Mulder,’ every couple of months.”

She blinks back at him, speechless.

“I’m sorry if that’s overstepping, I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable with all this, I just—” He takes in a breath. “I guess I got to thinking of what it might be like to have a family again.” His bout of honesty is met with a blank stare, and his nervous smile drops. “I completely misread the situation, didn’t I?” he asks, self-loathing waiting on standby. “Got ahead of myself…”

She stops him by catching his coat sleeve. “No—uh. No, you didn’t.” She collects herself, willing herself to offer him some reassurance. Her fingers release the fabric of his coat, shifting her grasp instead to his hand. “I didn’t realize you felt that way.”

He glances down at where she holds tightly to him, and his lips curl into some semblance of a smile.

“I guess they might have had a point with all those communication seminars we’ve skipped, huh?”

She chuckles softly.

“I don’t think this is exactly what they had in mind…”

With a gentle tug, Mulder leads her down the stairs, committed to holding her hand as long as she’ll let him. The air is stagnant and silent, only the rhythmic echo of their shoes clicking on the concrete steps as they make their way to the bottom floor.

She’s thinking. What she knows now, it changes everything. 

She had asked him to leave. Hid her grief from him as much as possible after her initial lapse into weakness when she came home with the news. She had almost kissed him, then, unsure of what else she had to live for. She knew she was hurting him by folding inward on herself in the weeks that followed, but that didn’t stop her from doing it. She was in a dark place, hardly able to see what was right in front of her. What she couldn’t see was that his hurt wasn’t just for her, born of some misguided sense of guilt or pity. It was his own, too.

“Mulder, all those months, after it failed—” There’s something like fear in her voice as she utters these words, or maybe regret.

“I was just worried about you.”

She squeezes his hand, feeling tears well in her eyes once more. “No, you were grieving like I was, and I didn’t notice. I pushed you away…”

“Dana…” He turns, a couple steps ahead of her, so for once it’s him who has to look up to meet her eyes. Her lip wobbles as she looks down at him, and he brushes his thumb tenderly over her knuckles. “You had to deal with it on your own, I understood that. I don’t blame you for anything.”

Those eyes. So open and honest and sad. She wonders how anyone could hurt him, could bear to break this man’s heart. How could she? 

Choking back a sob, she falls into him, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding tight. His arms encircle her back, supporting her weight, and she feels herself being lifted as he goes up a step, closing the distance between them.

His hand climbs up to the back of her head, stroking her hair soothingly.

“I just wanted to be there for you,” he mumbles into her neck.

“You were, Mulder,” she gasps between bouts of tears, finding comfort in the feel of his soft hair between her fingers. “You’ve always been there.”

He pulls back, lifting his hands to cup her face and wiping away the tears he finds there with the pads of his thumbs. 

“You don’t have to give an answer now,” he says, reassuring, “This is… a big commitment, I know, and I don’t want you to say yes just because I suggested it. I just wanted you to know it’s an option, and if you want to have a baby, I’m in. However you want to go about it, I’ll be as involved as you want. Just– let me know, anytime. Okay?”

He’s looking at her now, head ducked so those sad, puppy-dog eyes can get his message across.

She nods, holding tight to the wrists that so tenderly cup her face.

“Okay.”

~~~

Lovely tag list ♡: [if you would like to be added or removed, let me know!]

@today-in-fic @ao3feed-msr @agent-troi @angegova @baronessblixen @bby-got-books @calimanc @captainsolocide @cutemothman @danasculls @deathsbestgirl @edierone @enigmaticxbee @figureofdismay @frogsmulder @hippocampouts @invidiosa @monaiargancoconutsoy @mulderscully @oofubad @p34chi @primrose19 @randomfoggytiger @skelavender @skylarksong @slippinmickeys @stephy-gold @teenie-xf @the-redhead-in-a-dress @vincentsleftear @whovianderson

#msr #txf #x files #xf fanfic #mulder and scully #my fanfiction #fox mulder #dana scully #of our own making #ooom #msr adoption fic #adoption

[sosa2imagines]

Misunderstanding. Part 4.

Warnings- Angst, fluff, danger and a fan crush moment. -----------------------------------------------------

“Romanoff?” “Tony get your ass here Y/n is in danger” “What?” “Just get here!”

“Tony, is everything okay?” Bucky asks, noticing the worried look on Tony's face. “What did Natasha say?”

“Nat said they are in trouble, more like Y/n is in danger.” Tony replies.

“What happened?” Steve asks immediately, a bit of panic seeping into his voice, as he realized you and Natasha are in danger. “Where are you going? What’s going on?”

Few hours ago...

“Y/n talk to me” “Nat I'm fine”

“Come on!” she says, grasping your hand, pulling you along. “Let's just walk and talk...”

“Okay, fine…” you agree, letting her guide you along. As you two make your way down the sidewalk, Natasha pauses and turns to you, her expression serious. “Y/n, I know you well enough to know, you are thinking too much. Talk to me babe” You smile, happy at the fact that she knows you so well. “I should have told him, where I was being treated, I hid from him and lost him for good…”

“No, you did not lost him, ok? it was our decision for his own safety, hell we would have done it for Bucky too.” “He is freaking Captain America!!! Nat, he can take care of himself, even if we know it’s the other way around. If he wants to be with someone else, I won't stop him” “He loves you, you both are just going through a major misunderstanding…” “Nat I'm not perfect for him! He deserves someone perfect, like him...” you exclaimed, cutting her mid-sentence. “Did he told you that?” Nat snaps at you. “No…” you mumble, pouting at her, for snapping at you. She just rolls her eyes over your dramatics.

“Then don't jump to conclusions, stay on the ground before doing something stupid!” “Yeah, okay” you respond, feeling a bit tense as you anticipate her next move.

You stop walking, staring at her. Natasha is a smart woman, but god she had no patience for bullshits and over-reactions. But one thing is for sure, everything she says, is true and never ever argue with her.

 “Are you going to keep on staring or what?!” she asks not bothering to stop, or look at you. “Coming, god you can be scary at times!” you raised your hands up in surrender, as she raised her brows at you.

 After some few minutes of silence, you talk again, “So how are things with Bucky?” You can swear on anything, that you saw her blush and choke on air at the same time!

“What did you see or hear?” Nat asks, looking straight ahead, avoiding your gaze. You just smirk at her.

Before you could continue, a guy ran towards you both and pushed Nat in the alley. “What the hell?!” You yell as a man suddenly grabs Natasha and drags her into an alleyway, surprising you both. You quickly aimed your gun at him “Let her go, now!”

“What? Natasha who is with you?” The man holding her was looking in your direction, but not directly at you. “Hey, I said let her go!” You had a firm grip on the gun, ready to shoot, if required.

“Matt?” “What? Do you know him?” you ask her, not lowering the gun. “Y/n, I know him, put the gun down.” “What, are you sure?” Natasha nods and you put your gun back down in your pocket.

The guy name Matt, lets her go and gives a sheepish smile to Nat. “Matt what are you doing here?” she asks him. “I need your help…and” “Wait, how did you know it was me?” you furrow your brows in confusion at her question. “Your perfume that's how I knew you were near…” he answers rubbing the back of his neck. “Wait her perfume? Who and what are you?” you ask looking at him with utter confusion, almost feeling like a third wheel.

“I’m a very good lawyer and you are? He smirks. “Assassin!” you answer proudly.

Nat rolls her eyes, at your antics. “Y/n wait, this is Matt, DD, remember I had told you? and Matt this Y/n fellow avenger and…”  “That's him!” you ask cutting her mid-sentence, “The blind kickass vigilante?” you ask, totally surprise to meet the infamous lawyer finally. “Sorry by the way…” you say quickly, realising you are going ahead in your fan zone.

“It's ok.” he tells you with a smile, before turning to Nat, “You told her about me?” getting serious. “Yes she is my best friend, I tell her everything.” Nat replies with a smirk and a proud smile. “Since when did you started to make friends?” Matt asks in disbelief. “Does not matter to you…” Nat scoffs. “Yeah right!” Matt raises his eyebrows, running a hand through his silky hair.

You shake your head, getting some control over your fan crush, for the man wearing red tinted glasses.

“Umm...sorry to interrupt the reunion, but I supposed he wants your help with something?” you remind them.  “Yes, right thank you, come this way...” Matt smiles at you, gesturing you and Nat to follow him.

“Not to sound rude, where are we supposed to go and why?” Nat asks in a stern voice, getting serious now. “I was on my way for work, I heard some guys talk about planting a bomb, somewhere here and if my senses are right, that bomb is there. Right at the end of the alley, inside that abandon building” He replies with a serious tone.

“How did you know its abandon?” you ask getting curious.  “Senses” both Nat and Matt reply in unison. “Sorry…” you shrug, not sure whether you offended him or both.

As you three enter the building, you split. With Nat searching the ground floor, you and Matt start looking on the first floor. Most of the walls were collapsed, debris fallen everywhere.

Out of instinct, you helped Matt to walk, making sure he didn’t fall or stumble on anything.

“Sorry, I know you are a vigilante and can take care of yourself, I…”, Matt smiles cutting you off “It’s really nice of you to help me. Yes, I like to be independent, but you helped me out of instinct not because of pity. And I don’t mind a beautiful girl like you, helping me.” He smiles, offering you his arm, which you accept with a red face.

“You are blushing” “No, I'm not...” you bite your lip to hide the smile forming on your lips. “I can hear your heartbeats” he tells you, laughing softly. “Your senses are very admirable…” you smile. “Thank you.”

You both kept looking, from one room to another, before finally entering the last room.

“I don't feel right about this room…” Matt says, getting bit tensed. “Your senses acting up?” you tease, to lighten the mood. Matt laughs heartedly, he looks so cute, “No I think it's in here…” “Well let's keep on looking, or else you might need to get your senses checked. Tony and Bruce can help you.”

“Tony will kill me…” Matt says, as he starts looking around, by poking his stick. “You know him?” you ask, looking in one of the boxes piled up.

“Yes, long story for another day…” he says still looking. “Asking me out already?” You ask, coming to his side. “I don't mind, do you?”

Before you could answer, Matt's pokes a box and it falls on the ground with a loud thud. The box was full of bricks, Matt asks you, what the noise was and you answer, “Bricks. Why keep a box full of bricks?” “Yes, everything here is empty, except for this box…”

“Shit” you both say in unison and look at the place where the box was before. There was the bomb. The weight of bricks, had kept it off. Wires were connected to a box with code pad.

Without a second thought, you both sat on the bomb with half asses.

“Y/n, what are you doing?” “Keeping the bomb off, what are you doing?” “This is no time for being funny, get off now” “If either of us gets off, we are gonna die. The bomb has stopped under our shared weight…”

Some minutes later, Nat comes up looking for you both.

“Guys did you find anything?” She sees you two sitting together and she raises her brow. “Yes we did…” you answer. “What? where is it?” “You are looking at it!” this time Matt answers with anger evident on his face. Seriously why are people snapping today?

Matt explains everything to Natasha. She tries to defuse the bomb, but is unsuccessful. With no other option she texts and calls Tony. 

“Tony is on his way.” Nat tells you both, with a hopeful smile. “Now we wait…” you say sarcastically, to which Nat gives you a smile and Matt is still angry.

Nat makes herself a seat, using few of the empty boxes and sits comfortably.

“Matty smile…” Nat jokes and you try to suppress a laugh, while Matt just ignores you two.

“You know… whatever happens or may not happen… can you try to be less grumpy and smile? You look cute when you smile...” you tease Matt, even though you can see the corners of his lips turning into a smile, he stills acts angry.

“Why did you?” “Why did you?” You both ask each other the same question.

Matt remains quiet and you answer his question, “Matt I have fought worst people, aliens, heck gods and robots. This bomb is nothing.”

Matt was about to say something, but you don’t let him speak, “Don't blame yourself. Even if you had not asked for our help, I still would have been in danger, in some other mission. My job comes with danger, so there's no escaping it. I trust Nat, Tony and everyone else. Nothing will happen to us, Matt.”

Matt starts to relax a bit, “You are good with words…” “Thank you.” “She is good in lots of ways…” Nat winks at you and you give her a ‘what are you trying to do?’ look. “Is that so?” Matt chimes in. “Don't tell me, his senses pick that up?” you laugh.

Back at the compound...

“Come on, metal man, we have to go now!” Tony says, his voice a mix of urgency and concern. “Don't call me that” Bucky warns him. “Are you coming or not?” Tony asks with a raised brow. “I'm coming, they both need us.” 

“Tony wait, I'm coming with you.” Steve tells him. “Steve, please...” Tony replies, clearly feeling torn between wanting to have Steve with him, and knowing that he doesn't want to risk another fight breaking out. “I need you to watch the compound, in case we need anything, I’ll let you know. Trust me on this.” “No, let Bucky stay; I have to come please…” Steve begs and Tony's resolve wavers, as he sees the desperation in Steve's eyes.

“Fine suit up.”

“No! She needs me, not Captain America.” 

A/N: Seriously Charlie Cox is so cute and hot..!

(Comment, feedbacks and reblog are highly appreciated. I hope you all enjoy.)

Part 3 -

TAGLIST- @blackhawkfanatic @ordelixx @sapphirebarnes @differenttyphoonwerewolf @vicmc624 @thezombieprostitute @lillyxlillian

#chris evans characters #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers x reader angst #steve rogers x reader fluff #steve rogers #matt murdock #daredevil

[celestialbeomgyu]

BABYLON | part nine

Beomgyu x f!reader

summary - After a mutual friend returns home from travelling, exes y/n and beomgyu are reunited two years after a terrible breakup to help plan a welcome home party for their friend. Will they put their issues aside and welcome each other back in, or will they both want answers for the situation that has been ruining them for the past two years?

master list | previous part | next part

part nine - fuck you choi beomgyu!

2 years ago…

Y/N had just arrived home from the store, she’d been out doing the weekly shop and of course, buying treats for Moon.

It was quite late now, approaching dinner time, and y/n was ready to start cooking dinner for Beomgyu and herself as they’d both agreed on homemade pizza after ordering take out the last 2 days on the run.

Beomgyu was no where to be found which was not unusual, it was quite common for him to be upstairs either sleeping in their bedroom or gaming in his office, he would sometimes sit playing games with kai until early hours in the morning. This didn’t bother y/n of course, she loved seeing him happy even though he’d constantly be screaming “DIE YOU FUCKING FUCK” whilst playing his games which he claimed where ‘calming and relaxing’.

“Hi baby” y/n said to Moon who was relaxing on the couch, she walked over and gave her a scratch behind the ears and fed her one of the treats she’d just bought for her. Moon had been Beomgyu’s idea, they both knew they weren’t ready for children but their house was feeling a bit lonely with just the two of them until Beomgyu suggested getting an animal, with them both agreeing on a kitten.

“Now where’s your dad? i cant hear him snoring or screaming” y/n asked Moon, obviously not expecting an answer as Moon just stared at her and wondered why the head scratches had stopped.

After putting away everything she’d just bought, y/n thought she should probably go and find her boyfriend and let him know that she’s home and ready to start cooking whenever. She ventured upstairs to find his whereabouts and checked the bedroom first, she already knows he wouldn’t have been in there because the door was wide open, and Beomgyu never sleeps with the door open saying “what if someone comes in of a night and tries to kidnap me? i wouldn’t hear the door unlock”.

After that, she knew that the only place he would be is in his office. As she was about to turn the handle and open the door, she heard his voice, and it sounded like he was answering a call.

“Hi mum! how are you doing?” y/n heard him say to what must’ve been his mother on the other end of the phone. Y/n decided to wait outside the door so that she didn’t interrupt his phone call.

“She’s fine i guess, i’m still nervous to tell her” y/n couldn’t hear what his mother was saying on the other end of the call, but she could guess that Beomgyu was talking about her, what exactly was he nervous to tell her about? Y/n decided to stay outside the door and eavesdrop to maybe try and figure out what he’s talking about.

“Yeah i know that but how do i go about it, i’m scared she will get upset” beomgyu said with a hint of nervousness in his voice. Now y/n was scared, it was clear that Beomgyu was going to tell her something, and he was going to do it soon, and by the sound of it, it doesn’t sound good.

The worst was running through y/n’s head, is it really that bad? he’s scared that she’s going to get upset? they’d been together for four years already, it was very rare that they struggled to communicate with each other.

“Well she will be pretty pissed i took so long” he said with a nervous giggle. Y/n would’ve gave anything to hear was his mother was saying. She was starting to panic with him saying she will be pissed and upset. What on earth was he planning on telling her?

“I’m just not sure how to do it though, what if i just blurt out how i’ve never loved her”

what. the. fuck.

Was that really it? he was asking his mother advice on how to break up with her.

It was all making sense now, saying how he hasn’t done it yet because he’s nervous, and how he’s scared she will get upset.

Y/n was shaking, why was her boyfriend of four years talking about how he’s never loved her. Tears ran down her face but she wanted to continue listening to the call to see what else he had to say.

“I know i know i might just have to wait a little while to calm the nerves, i just need to do this the right way” was he being fucking serious? there is no right way, not after y/n had heard the conversation, she already knew it was over for the both of them.

“yeah i really hope so, the last thing i need is to keep this weight on my shoulders, the sooner i do it the sooner i’ll feel a million times better about this, i’ve been meaning to do it for too long now”

How long had this been going on for? How long had he been lying to her? How many times had he lied next to her in bed, kissing her goodnight and telling her how much he loves her? All for it to be a fucking lie.

“Thanks a lot mum, you’ve been a big help with this, i’ll see you and dad next weekend yeah?”

“You too mum, love you” was the last thing Beomgyu said before ending the call. Y/n could hear him stand up and make his way towards the door so she ran, ran into their bedroom to grab a bag which she started throwing some clothes and pyjamas in for a night. She couldn’t see what she was grabbing through the tears but it didn’t really matter, she just needed to get out of that house.

“Hey you didn’t tell me you where home?” Beomgyu said as he walked through the door of the bedroom “wait what’s up? why are you crying”

Y/n just stared at him, was he being for real? “are you serious?”

Beomgyu had never looked so confused in his life “well yeah, i’m seeing why you’re crying? did something happen whilst you were out? you can tell me you know”

He walked towards y/n to try and comfort her but she just pushed past him and stormed out of the bedroom.

“Y/n what the fuck?” beomgyu said angrily as he followed her out of the room and down the stairs “i get that you’re upset but i’m just trying to help”

“Yeah sure you are!” y/n shouted, not bothering to hold back the tears as she fumbled with her car keys “don’t fucking follow me Beomgyu, i don’t want to see you”

“Y/n i haven’t done anything? i just wanted to see if you where okay and suddenly i’m the problem?” he shouted back. Was he seriously acting like he hadn’t done anything wrong?

“Beomgyu you cant be serious right now!” y/n choked out, she couldn’t believe that he was lying straight to her face, he knew exactly what he’d done.

“You’re acting absolutely insane y/n! you where perfectly fine before you left earlier on and suddenly you’re packing a bag and leaving?” tears started to stream down Beomgyus face as he screamed back. He reached out to y/n to try and stop her from leaving but she was already out of the door and unlocking her car.

“Fuck you Choi Beomgyu! Just leave me alone!” y/n shouted back before slamming the car door and driving off, she couldn’t even look at his face as she drove out of the drive way, she needed to forget about him.

After all, he never loved her.

tag list - @prettyrenjunn @ssukiyakii @beomtasticc @20-cms @dejavu-jun @kth988 @luvtyunn @woncheecks @haeryna @mitchloveswriting @beomfrost @wondersgyu @joonsvision @mwahvvis @herebyaccident0 @seongminloverrr @hyunj00 @sweetstraberrybear @binluvsu

#txt #txt x you #txt x reader #txt fanfic #txt fic #txt post #tomorrow x together #beomgyu #beomgyu x you #choi beomgyu x reader #beomgyu fanfic #beomgyu fic #choi beomgyu #beomgyu x reader #kpop #kpop smau #kpop x reader #kpop fanfic #yeonjun #soobin #taehyun #heuningkai

[teriri-sayes]

Reactions to Chaos Creator's Chapter 288

Brief summary: CH and Clopeh had a talk instead of a duel. Cale arrived at the emperor's palace.

==========

This chapter was so good! 🥰🥰🥰 I expected that the two would fight, but they only conversed. Nevertheless, their conversation revealed a lot about what kind of person Clopeh was.

CH believed that Clopeh was unsuited to be a guardian knight. Clopeh followed the path of a shadow, but a guardian knight must walk at the forefront. For CH, Lock would be a better guardian knight than Clopeh. But Clopeh's rebuttal left him speechless.

-What if a very strong enemy appears in front of Cale? Will you lay down your life to save Cale? But if you save Cale, the others will die. Raon and the kittens. Mary, Rosalyn, Tasha, and Lock. But if you don't save Cale, the others can be saved. What will you do?

My goodness, Clopeh asks questions that hit hard, especially for CH. Both knew that whatever the choice, Cale would be hurt. CH was hesitant, but Clopeh was not.

-I don't care if you all die, I don't care if I die, I don't care if my family dies. Of course, Cale-nim would be sad if all of his companions were killed. That's the kind of person he is. That is why he has the qualities of a great hero. So I will not turn my sword against Cale-nim's allies. But you and Cale-nim. Me and Cale-nim. If I could only save one of you, it would definitely be Cale-nim.

Clopeh-nim!!!!! 🥰🥰🥰 He's really going all-in on Cale even if he loses everything else.

"Choi Han. Do you think you are a knight?" A knight. For some reason, Choi Han couldn't open his mouth easily. No answer came easily to him. Clopeh's eyes were like a green swamp. A swamp so deep that once you were dragged in, you couldn't get out. And they were filled with an intense longing. It was a desperate longing for something. Clopeh said in a nonchalant tone. "I think I am a knight." Even if he became a shadow and acted like an assassin. He never forgot that he had started out as a knight. He lived as a knight. "And do you know what a knight means?" Knighthood meant different things to different people. And for Clopeh. "For me, it's a conviction." For him, chivalry is conviction. "A knight must never compromise his conviction." Therefore, a knight who compromises his conviction was useless, and should not compromise his conviction. "And my conviction is-" Choi Han seemed to know what Clopeh's conviction might be. Clopeh spoke calmly. My conviction is, "Cale-nim." Choi Han felt like he was losing strength. He couldn't help but stare into those deep green eyes. The knight named Clopeh spoke. "His path is my conviction." Cale's path is my conviction, my reason for being a knight. Clopeh could say that without the slightest hesitation. That is why he would die for Cale, and he would do anything to save him.

KYAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!! Clopeh-nim, you're as awesome and crazy as always! ❤️❤️❤️ 🤣🤣🤣 Google Translate used the word "belief", but I stuck with DeepL's translation of "conviction" because it was better. After all, a conviction is a strong belief, and what Clopeh expressed was his strong belief for Cale.

And thus, CH could not help but acknowledge that Clopeh deserved to be Cale's guardian knight. Clopeh passed CH's test. But CH warned Clopeh that if he lost his conviction, he would kill Clopeh. And Clopeh was fine with that. It was funny that the two called each other as a "crazy bastard" though. 😂

Ending Remarks As a Clopeh fan, I love this chapter so much~! I would like to see a duel, but delving into Clopeh's thoughts and conviction was also good. Next chapter would be Cale meeting with the emperor again. Expect lots of scamming and DA showing off his power.

#tcf spoilers #trash of the count's family

[miffydollie]

⠀⠀⺀　　˚　　༝　　◌　　⌒⌒　　୨୧　　꒱

➳ open message from @miffydollie !!

dear lovely reader,

rockstar yunjin & nerdy fem reader ೃ࿐

rating : 18 +

warnings : mentions of moaning , calling yunjin mommy , please tell me if there's more !!

authors note : this is a old story i found in my notes .. so sorry that i couldn't write a proper story ! anyways, i hope you like this !!

click 'read more' to read this story . .

: sleepless nights - huh yunjin .𖥔 ݁ ˖

you were meant to be asleep hours ago, but your classmate yunjin had different plans.

yunjin always stayed in her dorm playing guitar. every night, every day. you could never fall asleep because of her. the moment you close your eyes, you hear the sound of an electric guitar playing in the room next to you, and you have to witness this every single day. and to you, it's getting a bit annoying. (sorry jen) not even just a bit, but A LOT. so this time, you decide to shut her up.

you knock on yunjin's door, waiting there annoyed. but, it doesn't take a while for someone to answer it.

'what do you want, y/n?' she says in an annoyed tone. you give her a dirty look, and you instantly reply. 'yunjin.. i'm sick of your stupid guitar playing every single night and it is SO annoying.' you state sternly, giving her a death stare now. 'jeez, calm down.' yunjin scoffs, 'and don't call me yunjin. call me jennifer, because you're not a stranger to me. but, you can moan mommy in bed and i won't really care..'

'what the.. moan? mommy?' you thought. you needed a quick and short reply and you had the perfect one.

'shut up.' you argued, 'can you just please lower your stupid guitar down? i haven't slept in about a week because of you, or even longer.'

'mmm.. fine. but only on one condition.' the red-head replied back, giggling afterwards.

'what is it..'

'you'll find out. later.'

'you're such a bitch, jennifer' you groan.

thursday, 4:20am read on your clock.

knock knock. who's that? you quickly go to answer the door, and you find yunjin standing there.

'it's you, isn't it.' you complained, trying to close the door on her.

'yeah, it is.' 'but this is what i want, and you promised me that you would do it, no matter what.'

'oh my gosh fine..' you hissed, and let her into your dorm.

@ miffydollie © 2024 | do not copy, repost or translate any of the works without author's extensive permission

dt : my princess lala < 3 ( @cheriewony )

part two here !!

tags :

#mae's archive ♡︎ #kpop #kpop icons #kpop layouts #kpop moodboard #kpop smut #pleaseread #gg smut #le sserafim #soo-jins #miffydollie #yunjin #dt : princess lala #miffydollie just posted !!

[smilingbuckley]

Ok, something that has been rubbing me the wrong way is that Maddie was scolding Buck for accidentally hurting Eddie but never having said ANYTHING about Chimney punching Buck, her little brother, on purpose with the intent to hurt - to which he has never apologized.

And look, if you've seen my works you know that I love Buck and Chimney as brothers. And I love Chimney in general. I suppose it was dealt with off screen, and that was fine with me. I kinda moved on/forgot about it.

But then that scene in 7x04 just... the way she responded made me think, well, did you say that to Chimney after finding out he punched your brother in his face after keeping YOUR secret? Does she even know? Because if she reacts like this over an accident, in which Buck was obviously confused because in no way would he purposely hurt Eddie. And he immediately felts guilty about that. Meanwhile Chimney trashtalked Buck for a couple of episodes showing no guilt.

I get that this is a plot hole we'll never get answers to, but this is why I didn't like that 7x04 scene. It made me mad.

#just random rants #jules rewatching 911 #911 #evan buckley #maddie buckley #chimney han #911 abc #911 on abc #911 season 5

[thewritingofspencerrose]

13 Ways Masterlist | Masterlist

"How's your day been baby?" His low voice is barely loud enough to be heard over what chaos must be behind him, but it's still loud enough to be heard, and scoffed at.

"My day? I'm a full time uni student Neeks, how is your day going mister hockey player?"

"Student or not I want to hear about your day- shut up Jack - and I won't be telling you about my day until you've told me all about yours."

"It's really not all that interesting-"

"Schatz."

"Fine, fine," Now Daya and Penny are laughing, hearing how I've just given in. "I worked this morning in the microbiology laboratory on my research, went to a few classes, and now Daya, Pen, and I are studying at the cafe a little bit down the road from your apartment."

"See, now was that so hard?" I can hear his grin in his tone, how the corners of his eyes crinkle when he smiles. "Johnny was just saying that you'll have to explain your research to him the next time he sees you. Mr.Harvard would like to attempt to understand what your brain thinks like."

I can't help the laugh that escapes me. Every time I mention my degree or my research, John is thrown in to translate the science to hockey terms for the rest of the team. Neeks has done well with learning a lot of the basic information, but the rest of the team knows aseptic technique in comparison to the goalie, "keeping out the pucks that are contamination".

"I'd love that," Is what my response finally lands on, Pen tapping my shoulder.

"I'm going to get a muffin, do you want one?"

"Cinnamon sugar, please and thank you!"

She nods and is off, Neek's voice meeting my ear. "I'm glad they're taking care of you."

"And who's taking care of you? How's practice?"

"Good, boys are looking in good shape tonight, but it's against the Rangers so you never know."

"Will you be staying in New York overnight or will you boys be driving back?"

"Driving back after the post-game interviews," He answers, confirming my assumption. He prefers his own bed to anywhere else. "Will you be going back to my place or to yours after your study session?"

"That's up to you, if you want space to yourself or -"

"So I'll see you at mine?" He interrupts the rest of the thought. "Your snacks are in the cabinet, and you can watch the game on the TV," He continues, like it really would take any convincing. "You know, if you want to."

"I'll be sitting there, watching it while I write my paper, promise."

"I'll let you get back to your study session with the girls, say hi for me," He returns, and once again I can sense his smile. "And text me when you get home, yeah?"

"Of course, Neeks. Be safe, play strong." I love you.

"Always for you, Schatz."

#the writing of spencer rose #original character #nhl fanfiction #nico hischier x oc #nico hischier #13 ways he says i love you

[chubypotato]

@bubblespinkss How would they act with their crushCan you do "How they would act with their crushes" with taiga, too. Please?<3

That's such a cute topics omg I love it. <33

How would they act with their crush

Including Umemiya, Taïga, Sakura, Suo, Kiryu

Umemiya

I think Umemiya would be the type to want to pass all his time with you. No matter what you do or what he does he just you to be there with him.

Seeing you make him feel happier, less stressed, only good feelings when you are around.

He invite you every day to go on the roof and help him with gardening.

If you don't know how to garden even better it's a chance for him to be closer to you. Obviously just to teach you nothing more~

Or if you do know how to garden he would be so impressed. Like how could you be so perfect in every way.

Umemiya would invite you to go to the little restaurant kotoha has. In fact he would like to introduce you to everyone he knows.

Everybody in the gang knows he loves you and everybody is rooting so hard for him.

Dude would give you plant and be like it made me think of you.

He would always tries to make you smile and laugh. Your laugh is such a sweet melody to his ears.

Taiga

I think Taiga would at first tries to speak lower. Kiryu once told him if he acts with that much energy and speaking so loud he would never get a girlfriend (this is canon Kiryu we love you but that's also why we love taiga.)

But boy get so excited around you he can't keep himself calm. That's fine you found that cute.

It's like being with you get him 100%more energy.

He would even do more exercise to impressed you (obviously after that he can't feel his muscle but that s fine.)

Would ask you if his muscle get bigger.

The first time he met you he ask you what was your mantra you answer right away with an answer that was such like you very confident in what you said he couldn't help to fell for you.

Will definitely ask you to come to the gym with him. If you are a beginner he would help you build a program for you. If you are not the gym would be a competition.

Always buys you food after the gym.

His smile would be so bright you would have to wear sunglass.

Sakura

This guy wouldn't even notice his feelings for you. He only realized it when Suo and Nirei pointed it.

At this exact moment his face went so red it could have explosed.

Before that his behave with you was totally normal of course he would be more carrefull and stuff but it was natural for him to act this way.

Now that his friend pointed it his face always got red whenever you a real around. He always knew he felt different with you but not at that point.

Would definitely be the type to carry your bag without even ask. He would just take it and be like I just do it cause it's the furin way that's all. He would never admit it's just because he doesn't you to lift something in front of him. He just doesn't want you to get hurt.

He would even eat your vegetables if you don't want them. Even if he doesn't like them he doesn't want you to be embarrassed about it.

Would definitely ask you to fight with him for fun. He just wanna see if you are strong or not.

Of course he would always defend you in a fight nobody can touch you but he also wanna see what are you capable of.

Suo

One of the sweetest. Such a cutie.

Always tries to make you laugh. We all know Suo is a joker he likes to crack jokes but if you are around and he makes you laugh that's even better.

The fact that he makes you laugh would give him butterflies. He would be so proud and so happy to hear you giggles and his jokes.

Would definitely be the type to buy you some gift but never let you notice it's from him.

In fact since you were yapping about how much you wanted to know who it was he started to put some puzzle like a little game between you to see if you would realized.

He knew you did when one day he went put a gift for you and he found a bag of tea at the spot he usually put his gift.

Now you just exchange gift time to time but never in person always using the same systems.

He loves spending time with you, he would ask you to come walk with him and even tries to teach you some of his moves.

Would definitely invite you drinking tea while reading a book.

Kiryu

(Help this boy is so fine. Like I'm obsessed with him having his hair like this.)

Would be so sweet around you. Like one of the sweetest just like suo.

He's such a cutie. Always remove one of his headphone when you are around. Some time even pass you one so you could enjoy music together.

Definitely made a playlist for the both of you. You guys listen to it often even when you are not together.

If you are into game he would love to play with you. Like every change he gets he asks you to join his game. The one who lose buy food for the other at the end of school.

If you are not he would try to teach you some easy game so you could okay together.

Always carry your bags that's what gentleman does.

Would come with you to get your nails done or even your hair or to buy new clothes.

He likes to match you. Like you're at a store he would picks hairpins to wear together. Even though you guys aren't a couple it still cute so you wear it anyway.

Buy you some of your latest new interest and even listen to you speaking about it for hours. He just love the sound of your voice.

.・゜゜・✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*.・゜゜・

In receiving request it makes me so happy I love you guys.🧡🧡🧡

#anime #headcannons #kiryu #nireii #suo #windbreaker #windbreaker satoru nii x reader #windbreaker satorunii #x reader #as your boyfriend #hajime umemiya #taiga tsugeura #kiryu mitsuki #suo hayato #sakura haruka

[sebstan2020]

Red Ties

Chapter 40

Mary, a sweet Christian girl living in the city of Brooklyn as a nurse had a simple life. She loved her work, her friends and attending church every Sunday and helping Reverend McCarthy. Her life was nothing out of the ordinary. However, it all changed one day when she bumps into the intriguing and intimidating James Barnes, Brooklyn’s notorious mafia boss and is introduced to a world of guns, lust and dominance.

Warnings: BDSM, Dom/Sub, Mafia, Violence, Gang, SMUT, Sex, Possessive Bucky, Overprotectiveness, Bondage, Sexual Themes, Dark Themes, Guns, Drugs, Gang Violence

Mary winced as she sat on her stool at her desk. Her ass was still sore from the erotic flogging James had given her a few days ago. Since she was new to this BDSM lifestyle, her body was still getting used to all the painful implements James wanted to use on her. Her body marked much easier than the regular submissives's at Vanilla, and James enjoyed every moment of seeing her bright red ass when he could. But Mary was finding it hard to hide her discomfort, and Anya gave her a confused look at the clear wince in her face. 

"Are you okay?" she asked, and Mary looked at her, plastering on a smile. 

"Yeah, fine, I fell over the other day and landed on my butt, so I was just a bit bruised," if only Anya knew. Mary still had yet to tell her about their kinky antics. She wasn't sure how she would react. James and Mary had been together for at least six months, and time seemed to be going by fast. Anya definitely had approval of James, so there was no chance of her disapproving him now, but still, Mary wasn't sure how to bring up the subject. 

a Christian girl admitting her boyfriend whips and ties her up for his pleasure as much as hers. A girl who had never drunk alcohol until a few weeks ago, someone who barely crossed into the dark side of life, was now submitting willingly to a dominating, possessive mafia boss. And she had yet to tell her that as well. She felt guilty for keeping that from her and knew she had to bring it up soon. 

"So, when are you seeing James?" she winked.

"Tonight," she answered. 

"You might as well just move in with him at this point; you basically live at his, and why would you live in that shitty apartment when he literally owns a mansion?".

"Thanks, Anya. Well, I did suggest taking it in turns, staying at mine and his."

"Jesus, only you would suggest such a thing; what does God have a rule about not living in a million mansions?" Anya said. 

"No, I just... I don't know; maybe I'm not ready to move in," she shurried, even though that was a complete lie. Anya was right; she practically lived there already, but Mary was worried that she'd overhear their illegal business and the dirty, dark details of Jame's profession, and she didn't want to hear any of it and have another argument. although she knew that she couldn't let it bother her. It seemed everyone around her these days was into some organised crime business—James, John, maybe even Anya. At this rate, she might as well assume everyone is involved. 

"What? Don't be so stupid; you are ready to move in with him; just do it. The longer you leave it, the more you won't want to move in." Anya was right; god, she hated it when she was always right despite her questionable choices in life. 

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Mary admitted, rolling her eyes, and Anya patted her back, sending a shock of pain as she touched a tender spot the flogger had attacked. She held back her wince through gritted teeth, and when Anya left the nurses station, she hissed. She was going to have to tell James not to torture her on a work day. 

"Hey Mary!" Peter walked in, carrying a stack of papers, and dropped them heavily on the desk. 

"Hey Peter," she said with a big smile, and Peter instantly relaxed. Luckily, James hadn't made much of an appearance in the parking lot, and Peter didn't have to avoid him. Things were much less tense between him and Mary, and he was glad to have his best friend back, although his feelings for her weren't gone and he didn't think they'd ever go. He would always have a crush on her, and he tried not to think about her spending the rest of her life with James. 

selfishly, he wanted them to break up, but he knew that would only cause more heartbreak for Mary, and gaining from that would be cruel. So instead, he ignored what he could of James and spent what time he had with Mary. He was glad Mary didn't devote every single second to her new boyfriend like some first lovers do, and she'd spend time with him outside of work, much to James dismay. 

"Hey, I wondered if you wanted to come over tonight for some takeout. We can put a film on, chill out, and my apartment is pretty much done," he asked, and Mary nodded.

"Sure. that sounds great".

"I mean, as long as your boyfriend is okay with it," he teased. 

"Well, he'll have to be," she shrugged, and Peter secretly jumped for joy inside. Yeah, fuck James and his opinion. 

"Great, we can go back after work," he said with an excited grin. 

Mary texted James that she didn't need picking up after work and that she was going to Peter's. She could have simply said she didn't need picking up, but then James would question the reason for that and wonder why she didn't come home. Besides, she had nothing to fear from him; if he got all jealous and possessive, that was his problem. It was clear her simple text had fueled a little fire in him, as he instantly replied with 'oh'.

She could imagine him now, red in the face, a scowl on his lips. Oh well, he'll live. She wasn't going to let his jealousy take control of her life. 

Peter's apartment was beautiful, with everything in its place now and the walls not looking so bare. He had hung several pictures up and placed some furniture in small places to add more depth to the room, rather than it being so empty. 

"Wow, Peter, this place is amazing," Mary said as she slumped down on the sofa. 

"Yeah, I'm so happy with how it turned out. How's your place, by the way? I know you were having issues with it," he said as he stood at the ktichen plating up the Chinese they brought on the way home. 

"Oh, it's okay; I rarely spend time there since I'm always at James's house. In fact, I'm thinking about moving in with him," she said, and Peter looked with a slightly more shocked face than he would have liked. 

"Oh, really, that's soon," he shrugged, trying not to make a big deal out of it, even though it kind of was. Things seemed to move so fast with her, and James and Peter's feelings were getting in the way. He couldn't help but worry and wonder if Mary could end up getting hurt. He still didn't trust him much, especially after the whole 'stay away from Mary' chat they had in the parking lot. 

"Yeah, but I rarely spend time at my apartment, and his house is a lot nicer than mine; I mean, he does live in a mansion." She tried not to sound like she was bragging about it, and she wasn't, but when your boyfriend lives in a million-dollar mansion, it's hard not to sound like you're bragging. 

"Remind me what he does for work again?" He asked as he came over with the plates of Chinese food, consisting of sticky chicken, noodles, beef, and a small bowl of soup, along with prawn crackers. It smelled divine, and Mary was starving. 

"He's an accountant and has his own business," she said warily. If Peter knew he was a mafia boss, he'd spend the rest of his life convincing Mary to leave his ass. 

"Right, he must be amazing at his job to afford a house like that," Peter said as he sat beside Mary, crossing his legs. 

"Yeah, I don't know. I'm still in two minds about it; I haven't fully decided yet," she shrugged, and Peter smiled. 

"There's no rush; take things slow; you've got plenty of time to figure those things out, and there's nothing wrong with having your own space.".

"Yeah, it's nice to be able to have some quiet me time," she giggled, and they tucked into their dinner. They spent the rest of the night laughing and watching funny films, remembering funny moments in their lives, and dying with laughter. Peter offered for her to stay at his so she didn't have to make the trip back, but she kindly declined. She knew James would either be worried about her or be so jealous that she didn't come back to him that night. 

It wasn't until late that Mary arrived at James, and the moment she stepped into the bedroom, his hands were on her, cupping her face, kissing her deeply, forcing her to the bed, and falling on top of her. He kissed her lips, her neck, and the lobe of her ear, and a sweet moan escaped her lips as she fell into his trap. He did this when he was pent-up with jealousy and frustration. He wanted to show his possessions to her, and boy did he. 

The next morning, she woke to find dark kisses left on her neck and chest, his arms wrapped so tightly around her waist as if he were holding on to a piece of wood at sea or as if she were going to drift away from him. She sighed and rolled her eyes at his entrapment. His arms were like a little jail cell, and he kept her captive. 

She turned in his arms, which woke him softly, and he moaned gently, pressing a kiss on her temple. "You know you don't have to get all possessive like that," she pointed out.

"Like what? I'm just kissing the woman I love." Those words gave her a tingle, and she grinned immediately, her cheeks heating up. She wouldn't get over how he confessed his love for her. After a petty apology and an introduction to his ex-submissive, what a way to say you love someone! 

He pressed a kiss on her lips, and she moaned in them. "Alright, if you say so," she shrugged with a tease in her voice, and he chuckled. He knew exactly what he was doing. 

Mary was working her shift with her private clients away from the hospital, first starting with Mrs. McKenzie. She had a million questions and, of course, wanted to know the dirty details of her love life with Mr. Handsome. She giggled, shaking her head, and reluctantly gave up some details, despite Mrs. McKenzie asking her naughty questions about that woman and her mind. but it was nice to be able to catch up with her and talk about all things girl. She had popped in to check on Yori and make sure he was okay as well. 

He was so much more relaxed the first time she met him, and he was more than happy for her to visit him. Her and James were the only visitors he wanted; no one else. But he wouldn't be Yori without making a moan about his noisy neighbour McKenzie. Mary didn't think their feud was ever going to settle. 

On her way to her next patient, she needed to stop at the pharmacy and pick up a few prescriptions for them. She parked her car just outside, grabbing her bag to run in. The streets were busy, and she dogged the grumpy people of New York and weaved her way inside the pharmacy, the clean smell of disinfectant hitting her nose. She wasn't there long and made her way back to her car, but stopped just in front of it and stared across the street. 

There was James, standing next to a very pretty woman, dressed in a tight skirt and blouse with shiny black heels. Her hair was in a volumous blowout, all curls and waves cascading down her back. She was stunning with light makeup, from what it looked like, and she had a beautiful smile. They were talking very intimately, and she reached and placed a hand on his shoulder. A sudden pang of jealousy rippled through Mary's body, something she hadn't felt before. So this was how James felt when he saw her and Peter together. 

but this was different. She didn't know who this woman was or why he was standing there with her. and then he reached down and pressed a kiss to her cheek, and Mary's heart sank, a shiver leaving her body and mouth. The woman smiled and turned on her heels, with James following. 

Mary felt cold inside, as if her heart had been taken out and hammered into a tiny number of pieces. Who was that woman, and why was he kissing her like that? Yes, it was only a friendly kiss on the cheek, but she didn't know who she was or why he was with her, and seeing that kiss only made her heart shatter. and now he had followed her, like a puppy to their mother. 

Mary threw herself in her car and took a shuddering, deep breath. What should she do now? 

Hey I hope you like this chapter, let me know what you think in the comments

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