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riddleriddles · 29 days ago

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ಇ do i wanna know, hozier cover.

pairing. mattheo riddle x hufflepuff!quiet!reader

summary. sometimes, pansy knows exactly how to bring couples together. when mattheo, known for his grumpy mood, finds himself growing closer to a quiet, introspective girl, he must come to terms with feelings he never expected to have.

warnings. a bit of suggestive scene, but nothing explicit

add notes. I feel like my dialogues would never be said in real life.

visit my masterlist :)

ಇ

It was Pansy Parkinson’s birthday. The Parkinson Manor was a spectacle—a grand, ancient, and imposing structure, surrounded by meticulously tended trees. Its tall stone towers stood in stark contrast to the ethereal silver of the moon on that autumnal night, while the crisp air carried the fresh, melancholy scent of fallen leaves. The entrance hall sparkled with the glow of greenish lights that reflected off the polished marble floor. Music flowed through the vast corridors of the manor, mingling with the voices and laughter of the guests. Pansy never did anything halfway, and her seventeenth birthday party was no exception.

The main hall was teeming with Hogwarts students, predominantly Slytherins, although a few figures from other houses stood out, strategically placed. Groups gathered around enchanted tables laden with exquisite appetisers, while others chatted or danced in the centre of the hall beneath the enchanting glow of chandeliers and floating magical candles.

Mattheo Riddle leaned against a wall near the fireplace. His spot had been carefully chosen, allowing him to observe the entire room without drawing attention to himself. A glass of some drink—nearly forgotten in his hand—served more as a distraction than a necessity. His eyes scanned the scene with the detached air of someone watching a mediocre play, clearly indifferent to the excitement around him. He despised parties, but Pansy had been emphatic: “If you don’t show up, I’ll never invite you to anything again, and you’ll have to live with that.”

And so, here he was, enduring the loud music, empty chatter, and the unbearable feeling of being out of place.

The room buzzed with familiar faces: Blaise was chatting with Daphne near the makeshift bar, Draco was laughing at something Theodore had said in a secluded corner, and at the centre of it all, Pansy shone like a star, greeting her guests with a smile that was as rehearsed as it was charming.

Mattheo let out a deep sigh, raising the glass to his lips and sipping half-heartedly, merely to occupy himself. His thoughts drifted to the garden, which promised a quiet, solitary escape—perfect for smoking a cigarette far from the noise and frivolity of the hall.

You entered the party hesitantly, your measured steps and reserved posture betraying your unease. Your eyes scanned the room cautiously, taking in every detail before allowing yourself to fully step in. You clutched a small, delicately wrapped gift in your hands, your arms tucked close to your body as if forming a barrier against the chaos around you.

This wasn’t your kind of place—not in a bad way, just different from what you were used to. Your hair, styled in a carefully crafted half-updo, fell in soft waves over your shoulders, catching the golden light of the chandeliers and the greenish glow of the magical candles scattered around the room. Your pastel yellow dress, a nod to your Hufflepuff identity, was graceful and perfectly suited to the occasion, modest yet elegant without being over the top.

Stepping inside, you carefully shut the door behind you with a soft thud, masked by the music filling the air. You looked around attentively, moving with the grace of someone trying to avoid drawing attention. Your eyes landed on Pansy, who, upon noticing your arrival, quickly made her way over, a radiant smile lighting up her face.

“I’m so glad you came! I’ve been waiting for you,” Pansy exclaimed excitedly, and you smiled shyly, offering her the neatly wrapped gift. She took it with equal enthusiasm and, without missing a beat, guided you with a gentle touch on your arm, introducing you to her closest friends, most of whom you didn’t know—predominantly Slytherins. To anyone watching from afar, you might have seemed out of place, but you nodded politely, feeling quietly pleased to be surrounded by the friends of your close companion.

You tried to adjust to the atmosphere. The party was loud and full of people, but you knew this was exactly the kind of event Pansy loved, and it had been hard to turn down her insistence—especially on such an important occasion as her seventeenth birthday. What you hadn’t anticipated, however, was the intensity of it all: the loud laughter, the conversations about topics you barely understood or didn’t care about, and the overwhelmingly high volume of the music.

“Relax,” Pansy whispered in your ear, giving your shoulder a light squeeze as she noticed your discomfort. “You’re going to have fun, I promise.”

Her words carried a hint of something unspoken, though you didn’t catch it immediately. She continued introducing you to her friends, eventually steering you toward a more secluded corner near the fireplace, where Mattheo Riddle stood leaning against the wall, his expression bored, as though he were merely fulfilling an obligation. Holding a half-filled glass in one hand, his grey eyes scanned the room with disinterest.

“Mattheo!” Pansy’s voice interrupted his reverie, casual but still confident. “I want you to meet someone. This is my friend [Name]. [Name], this is Mattheo.”

Pansy smiled, looking far too pleased with the situation. “I’m sure you two will get along wonderfully!”

“Uh… hi,” you said softly, offering a timid smile as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, revealing a delicate gold moon-shaped earring that Mattheo noticed with mild indifference.

“Hi,” he replied curtly, his tone brief and aloof.

Pansy watched the exchange, clearly unimpressed by the lack of enthusiasm. “Did you know that [Name] loves taking care of magical creatures? And Mattheo, you have an impressive tolerance for people who talk too much—aren’t you two a perfect match?”

“Funny, Pansy,” Mattheo remarked, narrowing his eyes and tilting his head with a trace of amusement in his otherwise dry tone.

“Thanks, it was sincere,” Pansy quipped with a playful grin before stepping away with a conspiratorial air. “Enjoy yourselves!”

With one last smile, she left you both alone, disappearing into the crowd.

For a moment, the sound of the music and the chatter around you filled the silence as you, uneasy with the quiet, fidgeted with the star-shaped pendant on your necklace.

“So…” you began cautiously, looking at Mattheo. “Do you not like parties in general, or just the people who talk too much?”

The question caught him off guard, and he raised an eyebrow, taking a moment to think before answering. “Depends on the party. And the people.”

You let out a soft, almost inaudible laugh, but it was genuine. “I get that. This isn’t really my kind of place either.”

“Then why’d you come?” Mattheo asked, his tone casual but curious, as if waiting for your answer without much urgency.

“Pansy insisted,” you admitted with a small shrug. “And you?”

“Same.”

At that, you felt a little more at ease, tilting your head slightly towards him. “Well, at least we’ve got that in common.”

“Besides Pansy,” he added, a faint smirk tugging at his lips as he warmed to the idea that the conversation wasn’t as tedious as he’d expected.

The silence returned, but this time it felt less strained. You leaned against the wall beside him, gazing up at the ceiling, where floating candles with green flames illuminated the room alongside the warm, golden glow of the grand chandelier, while Mattheo’s eyes followed the movement of the partygoers.

Feeling slightly overwhelmed by the commotion, you noticed the atmosphere beginning to feel heavier. The grand and magical hall, while impressive, didn’t make you feel at ease. Mattheo, seemingly indifferent to the pressure of the space, appeared entirely unbothered. So, you decided to suggest something.

“How about we head out to the garden?” you asked timidly, looking up at him. “It’s… quieter, maybe?”

Mattheo, still leaning against the wall with his usual impassive expression, raised an eyebrow. “You really think the garden will be quiet, considering how many people are here?”

You smiled, slightly embarrassed. “It’s worth a try, I guess.”

With a sigh, he slipped a hand into his pocket and pushed himself off the wall, nodding. “Fine. Let’s go.”

The Parkinson mansion’s garden was undeniably stunning, but you barely noticed the perfectly trimmed hedges shaped into geometric designs or the softly glowing magical flowers. Your attention was more on the refreshing coolness of the night air and the silence—a welcome contrast to the chaos inside the hall.

The two of you walked in silence for a while. Mattheo observed you discreetly, noticing how your fingers gently brushed against the petals of the flowers along the path, as if you were connecting with their textures and details. There was no urgency in your steps, and eventually, you reached a secluded corner near an ornate fountain illuminated by floating candles casting dancing reflections on the water. He stopped by a tree, crossing his arms and tilting his head back to look at the starry sky.

“Do you always go to Pansy’s parties?” you asked, finally breaking the silence as you strolled slowly, examining the plants with more interest.

“Not a chance,” he replied with a short laugh, as if the idea were absurd. “I try to avoid them, but she’s always got these… oddly persuasive arguments.”

“Like what?” you pressed, curious.

“Like, ‘if you don’t come, I’ll tell everyone you sketch people in your notebook like a frustrated artist,’” he said, smirking slightly.

You blinked, surprised at the confession, then let out a soft laugh. “You draw?”

Mattheo shrugged, almost defensive. “Sometimes. It’s not a big deal.”

“It doesn’t sound like something to be embarrassed about,” you said simply, your tone free of judgment. Kneeling beside a bush of blueberries that seemed particularly enchanting, their tiny fruits shimmering under the magical light, you added, “Actually, it sounds pretty interesting.”

He frowned slightly, as if unsure how to respond, before muttering, “You haven’t seen it.”

“Maybe,” you replied with a small smile, still studying the delicate berries. “But it’s good to have a hobby. Everyone should have one.”

He remained quiet, thoughtful, as he watched you. There was something about you that felt disconnected from the party—yet perfectly at home here in the garden. The calmness in your movements, even when you seemed shy or slightly flustered, struck him as unusual.

“So, what’s your hobby?” he asked, breaking the silence this time.

You took a moment before answering, as if reflecting. “I suppose it’s taking care of magical creatures… They don’t need explanations. You just feel and understand them.”

He raised an eyebrow, surprised by the clarity in your answer, but didn’t comment straight away. It was rare for someone to talk about something so simple with such genuine passion.

“Fair enough,” he finally said, his voice free of sarcasm but still lacking much emotion, as though he were processing your words.

The silence returned, though it was comfortable now—almost natural. Yet, your curiosity about him grew too strong to ignore.

“Do you go to these parties often?”

“Not at all,” he replied, his tone carrying a faint hint of amusement. “Just every now and then. Pansy’s good at twisting my arm. If I don’t show up, she starts predicting my social death.”

You chuckled lightly, your gaze shifting to him rather than the garden around you. “And you always give in?”

“I’m not great at resisting emotional blackmail,” he admitted with a short, slightly insincere smile. There was a coldness in his comment, as though he didn’t place much value on his presence here. “Pansy has a way of turning invitations into ultimatums.”

The floating candles swayed gently around the fountain, their light casting dancing shadows on the stone. You took a step aside, feeling the cool night breeze against your skin. After a few moments of light-hearted conversation, you realised the dialogue had run its course.

“Maybe we should head back,” you suggested, breaking the silence. “Before Pansy comes looking for us.”

He remained silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on you. His expression still carried a hint of seriousness, but his eyes had softened somewhat.

“Maybe you’re right,” he finally said, the faintest trace of a smile on his lips. “But you decide when to go back, not me.”

You chuckled softly, shyly, as though the conversation had taken an unexpected turn, though it didn’t bother you. “Alright then. Let’s go.”

ಇ

The Slytherin common room was bathed in a cosy silence, broken only by the gentle crackle of the fire. The flames cast flickering shadows across the stone walls, creating an atmosphere that felt entirely separate from the rest of the castle. Mattheo was sprawled across one of the black leather sofas, his posture completely at ease, as though he belonged to the room itself. He twirled his wand idly between his fingers, his sharp gaze lazily drifting over the surroundings, disinterested.

The peace was interrupted by the unmistakable sound of firm, purposeful footsteps echoing off the cold floor. Mattheo didn’t look up—he didn’t need to. Pansy Parkinson always made her presence known. She strode into the room with the kind of authority that promised trouble, her eyes glinting with determination.

“Riddle,” she started, stopping in front of him with her hands firmly planted on her hips. “Saturday. Hogsmeade. You’re coming with me. Theo, Blaise, Luna, and [Name] will be there too.”

Mattheo didn’t even glance up, continuing to spin his wand between his fingers. His lips curved into a faint smirk. “No.”

“No?” Pansy echoed, raising an eyebrow, her expression morphing into one of incredulity. The set of her jaw only made her look more stubborn. “Come on, you haven’t even heard what I—”

“I’ve heard enough,” he cut her off, finally lifting his gaze to meet hers. His voice was dry, laced with boredom. “And the answer is still no. I’m not going, I don’t want to, and I’m not changing my mind.”

Pansy let out a heavy sigh, though the self-satisfied smile creeping onto her lips only deepened Mattheo’s irritation. “You say that now, but come Saturday, you’ll be there.”

Mattheo let out a short, humourless laugh. “Pansy, I’d love to see you try. I’m not Theo, who does everything you say just because he thinks you’re ‘cute.’”

“Thanks for the compliment,” Pansy shot back, her tone dripping with sarcasm as she crossed her arms. “Is this about [Name]? I saw you talking to her in the garden. You actually looked… sociable.”

“And? We exchanged a few words. That doesn’t mean anything.” His tone hardened as he narrowed his eyes, clearly irritated. Leaning back into the sofa, he added flatly, “If this is some attempt to set me up with someone, just give up now. You know I hate that.”

“Merlin, you’re dramatic,” Pansy scoffed, rolling her eyes. “No one’s setting you up. [Name] doesn’t even care if you’re there, to be honest.”

“Brilliant,” he replied, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “All the more reason for me not to go.”

Pansy let out a long-suffering sigh, though a mischievous smile tugged at her lips. “I know you, Mattheo. You say you won’t go, but come Saturday, you’ll end up tagging along with Blaise and Theo anyway. You need to connect with the world once in a while, you know.”

“I’m perfectly connected right here, thanks,” he shot back, gesturing around the room before rolling his eyes again. “I’d rather stay here than deal with people who think I owe them the courtesy of being interesting.”

Pansy tilted her head slightly, as though considering his words. “You’re so full of yourself. She’s not even thinking about you like that. And you know what? Maybe you should try acting normal around people who don’t fear you because of your surname.”

Mattheo huffed, but before he could muster a retort, Pansy was already making her way up the stairs to the girls’ dormitory. She threw a parting remark over her shoulder, her voice bright with smug amusement. “Saturday, Mattheo. Be there, or I’ll add this to my list of lifelong grudges!”

He stayed where he was, his gaze falling back to the wand in his fingers. It spun faster now, less smoothly than before. Pansy was wrong. He wasn’t going. And if [Name] didn’t care whether he came or not, that was fine by him. A relief, really. A big relief.

ಇ

The streets of Hogsmeade buzzed with chatter and laughter, the crunch of footsteps in the snow, and the sweet smell of warm drinks wafting out of nearby shops. Despite the lively atmosphere, Mattheo would still take this over the castle any day—at least here he wasn’t constantly followed by stares and whispers. He walked with his hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his black overcoat, his expression bored, though his sharp eyes missed nothing.

“So,” Blaise started, nudging Theo with his elbow. “Whose brilliant idea was it to drag him out here? Thought Mattheo was allergic to socialising.”

“Don’t start,” Mattheo muttered without even glancing at them. “I’m only here because someone wouldn’t shut up about how this was going to be ‘fun.’”

Theo laughed, unbothered. “It is fun. You should be thanking me.”

Mattheo opened his mouth to fire back but was cut off as the three of them rounded a corner and found themselves face-to-face with Pansy, Luna, and [Name] standing outside the Three Broomsticks.

“Oh, what are you lot doing here?” Pansy exclaimed, her voice dripping with faux surprise. Only Mattheo caught the teasing glint in her eye.

“Pansy,” he began, narrowing his eyes. “Don’t even try it.”

“Try what?” She blinked at him innocently. “This is pure coincidence.”

Mattheo was about to argue when his attention was pulled to Blaise and Luna. The moment they spotted each other, Luna lit up with a bright smile, and Blaise… Well, he looked like someone had hit him with a softening charm. It was rare to see him like that—genuinely smitten.

Luna stepped closer immediately, lightly tugging Blaise by the arm as she spoke. Whatever she said made him laugh, low and almost shy, a side of him Mattheo hardly ever saw. Blaise was usually so composed, but with Luna, he seemed… different.

That’s when it hit Mattheo. This wasn’t some trap for him. It was for them.

He glanced at Theo, who was watching the scene with a smug smile. Theo shrugged in response, as if to say, Don’t look at me, this wasn’t my idea.

Pansy, however, wasn’t even trying to hide her satisfaction, though she kept her focus firmly on Luna and Blaise.

Mattheo sighed quietly. Right. Maybe he’d been wrong. Maybe this whole outing really was just about those two.

But then his eyes landed on you. You stood a little behind Pansy, a small, almost shy smile playing on your lips as you watched Blaise and Luna. You didn’t seem out of place, exactly—just quiet, like someone unsure where they fit into the group dynamic.

He looked away before you noticed, but Pansy, ever observant, caught the movement.

“Well,” she said, a sly smile tugging at her lips. “Since we’re all here, why don’t we do something together?”

Mattheo was already preparing to decline, but something stopped him. Maybe it was the way you, distracted, reached out to catch the falling snowflakes in your hand, that soft, almost enchanted smile still on your face.

He frowned. What was so special about snow, anyway?

“Relax, Riddle,” Pansy said, pulling him back to reality. “I didn’t plan this.”

“You planned this,” he replied flatly.

“And if I did?” She held her hands up, her smile infuriatingly casual. “It’s not the end of the world. Try being social for once.”

Before he could respond, Theo slung an arm casually around his shoulders, as if to stop him from bolting. “Not every day we hang out with such a… diverse group.”

Mattheo rolled his eyes but didn’t bother arguing. Judging by how glued Blaise and Luna were to each other, it was pointless. Still, the way Pansy kept glancing at you before whispering something to Theo made him suspicious.

You, meanwhile, seemed completely oblivious to it all. You adjusted your scarf, your attention caught by a nearby shop window where tiny enchanted ice figurines were dancing.

“Alright,” Theo said, breaking the moment of silence. “So, what’s first on the agenda?”

Mattheo let out a heavy sigh and glanced over at you. You were standing a bit apart from the group, but somehow, your eyes met his. A small, tentative smile crossed your face, the kind that seemed unsure of its place, before you quickly looked away.

He considered walking away, but something made him stay. Maybe it was the sense that Pansy would never let him hear the end of it if he left.

“The Three Broomsticks?” he suggested, his voice laced with reluctance. “If we’re doing this, might as well get it over with.”

Pansy’s smile widened, like she knew exactly what he was thinking, but to his annoyance, she said nothing.

ಇ

The Three Broomsticks was as crowded as Mattheo had expected. The buzz of conversations and laughter mingled with the clatter of mugs and the sweet smell of butterbeer, creating a lively, almost chaotic atmosphere. For most, it was a place to forget about the pressures of school, but for Mattheo, it felt suffocating. He stood near the entrance, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his coat, ready to leave at any moment.

“See? Told you this would be fun,” Theo said, flashing a carefree grin as he dropped into a chair beside Pansy.

“If this is your idea of fun, I’d rather be back at the castle,” Mattheo replied flatly, choosing the chair furthest from the table.

Pansy, ever the orchestrator, settled in beside Theo and shot a smug look at Mattheo. “Oh, stop being dramatic. You’ll survive.”

Luna and Blaise took their seats next, the pair seemingly lost in their own little world. Blaise leaned in to whisper something, and Luna let out a soft, musical laugh. Mattheo rolled his eyes.

“They’ve already forgotten we’re here,” he muttered, tapping a keyring against the table in an almost absentminded rhythm.

Pansy smirked. “Leave them be. They’re cute.”

Mattheo huffed but didn’t bother replying. His eyes drifted across the room, eventually landing on you. You had chosen a seat near the window, detached from the group’s chatter. The soft glow of candlelight reflected in the glass as you gazed out at the falling snow, your expression calm and contemplative, as though soaking in every detail of the world outside.

For a moment, Mattheo found himself wondering what was so fascinating about the snow. It was just snow—falling endlessly, especially this time of year. But to you, it seemed to hold some deeper meaning, something he couldn’t quite grasp. You watched the flurries with a quiet intensity he found… puzzling.

“Paying attention, or has the snow got you too?” Theo teased, nudging Mattheo as he caught him staring.

Mattheo shot him a sharp look. “Shut up.”

Glancing at you again, he lowered his voice. “Why’s she so quiet?”

Pansy, ever observant, turned her gaze from you to the two whispering boys. “Because that’s how she is. Maybe you should try it sometime.”

“Very funny,” Mattheo shot back, narrowing his eyes at her.

Theo chuckled. “She just doesn’t like all the noise. Makes me wonder, though… why’s she here with us?”

“Because you invited her,” Mattheo said dryly, his tone clipped. Theo shrugged, unbothered.

“She’s here for Pansy. And maybe because sometimes people like to shake things up a bit,” Theo replied, as if it were obvious.

Mattheo didn’t respond, his attention drawn back to you. You were still lost in the view outside, but you must have felt the weight of their stares because, after a moment, you turned to face the group. Your smile was small and uncertain, a touch of embarrassment in your eyes. “What?” you asked quietly, your voice soft and cautious.

“Mattheo thinks you’re mysterious,” Theo said boldly, grinning as he leaned back lazily in his chair.

You frowned, your gaze shifting to Mattheo, who let out an irritated scoff. “That’s not what I said.”

“No need to explain yourself, Riddle,” Pansy chimed in with a sly grin, hiding behind the menu.

You gave a shy smile, clearly flustered, and buried yourself in the menu as if it were a shield. Mattheo caught the faint blush creeping across your cheeks, and for some inexplicable reason, it made him glance away, feeling oddly unsettled.

“What’re we ordering?” Blaise asked suddenly, breaking the tension and redirecting the group’s focus.

While the others debated their orders, Mattheo remained silent, his fingers tapping against the table. He didn’t want to admit it, but there was something about you that left him uneasy—not in a bad way, but in a way that made him feel restless, like he couldn’t quite figure out what to do with himself.

The waiter arrived, looking a little tired but polite, his quill poised to take orders. Theo and Blaise rattled off their choices with ease, but when it was your turn, you hesitated, your voice so soft that the waiter leaned in.

“Sorry, could you repeat that?” the waiter asked, his tone patient.

Mattheo noticed the discomfort on your face as you tried again, your cheeks flushing with self-consciousness. It was such a simple moment, but something about it made Mattheo feel compelled to step in.

“She’ll have a butterbeer,” he said abruptly, leaning back in his chair as if it were no big deal. “And I’ll have the same.”

The waiter blinked, then nodded. “Right, and the rest of you?”

You glanced at Mattheo, your surprise evident. For a moment, he wondered if he’d made things worse. But then you murmured, “Thanks,” so quietly it was almost inaudible. Your smile was small and a little shy, but there was something about it—something genuine—that made Mattheo’s chest tighten unexpectedly.

Their eyes met for a brief moment, and while it wasn’t much, it was enough to make Mattheo look away, feeling a strange heat rising in his neck. What the hell was that?

He focused on the table instead, letting his gaze fall on Pansy. She was watching him with her usual smirk, the kind that screamed, I know something you don’t. That look alone was enough to irritate him further.

He clenched his jaw, determined to brush it off. Whatever Pansy thought she saw, it didn’t matter. It wasn’t like him to get caught up in whatever game she might be playing. And yet, he couldn’t shake the thought of that small, genuine smile you’d given him—or the way it had made him feel completely out of his depth.

Later, the group had finished their meal and was now strolling leisurely through the softly lit streets of Hogsmeade. Snow fell in delicate flakes, blanketing the rooftops with a fine layer, creating a scene that was ordinary but, in your eyes, uniquely enchanting.

Mattheo walked in silence, his hands casually shoved into his pockets, while you stayed a little ahead with Luna, Blaise, and Pansy. The latter seemed particularly alert, as if she were plotting something in her mind.

“Let’s stop by Honeydukes,” Pansy announced suddenly, pausing beside Blaise and Luna. “I’m absolutely craving those ginger caramels.”

“Now? is probably a nightmare,” Theo grumbled, though his protest was pointless as Pansy was already dragging him firmly towards the shop’s entrance.

Before you could say a word, she turned to you and Mattheo with a sly, self-assured grin.

“How about you two check out the bookshop? We’ll catch up in a bit!”

You hesitated for a moment, glancing uncertainly in the direction of the bookshop and then back at Pansy. But she didn’t wait for a reply. Without giving you a chance to argue, she disappeared into Honeydukes with Theo in tow.

Mattheo let out a quiet sigh, his expression laced with a knowing irritation at Pansy’s obvious intentions. But he didn’t comment. Instead, he gave a small nod towards the bookshop.

“Fancy it?” he asked, his tone straightforward.

You nodded slightly, not trusting your voice to come out steady, and followed him towards the shop.

The interior of the bookshop was warm and serene. Tall shelves were crammed with books, from old, worn-out tomes to pristine, freshly bound editions. The air was filled with the unmistakable scent of aged paper, and the soft glow of strategically placed lamps added to the cosy atmosphere.

Walking slowly down the aisles, you trailed your fingers over the spines of books, savouring the texture of each one. Mattheo had wandered to a quieter section, where he pulled an old, dark-covered book from the shelf and examined it with mild curiosity.

“I’ve read that one,” you remarked casually, stepping closer.

Mattheo looked up at you, his expression faintly surprised. “Have you?”

You nodded, your eyes lighting up shyly but genuinely. “It’s really good, though a bit sad.”

He shrugged, placing the book back and reaching for another.

“That one too,” you said, glancing at the new book in his hand.

He raised an eyebrow, holding the book for a moment before putting it back and selecting yet another.

“Oh, that one’s brilliant!” you exclaimed, a spark of enthusiasm slipping through. “A bit heavy in parts, but it’s one of my favourites.”

Mattheo paused, studying the book in his hand before looking back at you.

“Have you read all of these?” he asked, disbelief evident in his tone.

You hesitated, your gaze flickering away briefly before meeting his again, your cheeks warming under his scrutiny.

“Almost all of them,” you admitted softly. “I just… really like reading.”

A faint, genuine smile tugged at Mattheo’s lips as he shook his head slightly.

“All right,” he said, holding up another book. “How about this one? Have you read it?” He revealed the title: The Great Gatsby.

Your eyes lit up instantly as you nodded. “Yes. It’s a classic. Sad, but so good.”

Mattheo let out a short sigh, glancing at the book with more interest. “Do you cry at all of them, or just the ones I pick because I like the cover?”

Your timid but sincere smile answered before your words. “Only the good ones.”

For a moment, he just watched you, his eyes lingering as you studied the shelves around you with quiet fascination.

“So,” he said, breaking the silence. “Think I’ll like this one?”

You tilted your head thoughtfully. “Depends. Do you like happy endings?”

Mattheo chuckled lowly, a hint of dry humour in his voice. “Wouldn’t know what that’s like.”

Your expression softened at his response, but you didn’t say anything right away. Instead, you looked up at him, as though trying to understand him better. He shifted uncomfortably under your gaze and glanced away.

“I’ll take it,” he muttered, holding the book firmly. “If it makes me cry, it’s your fault.”

You laughed quietly, the sound lighter this time, as he tucked the book under his arm.

“Do you read much?” you asked, your voice still a little shy as your eyes lifted to meet his.

“Not really.”

The moment was abruptly interrupted by Pansy’s familiar voice cutting through the quiet. She appeared suddenly beside Mattheo, a smug smile on her face.

“You two are taking ages,” she teased, throwing a loaded glance between the two of you. “Buying a book or writing one?”

Mattheo rolled his eyes, refusing to dignify her with an answer, while you glanced away, feeling slightly flustered. Pansy’s satisfied grin made it clear she’d gotten exactly what she wanted. Without ceremony, she tugged Mattheo towards the counter to pay for his book. You followed quietly as they left the shop, snow beginning to fall again outside.

ಇ

Once again, the group had gathered, this time in a more comfortable setting, as if they had already gotten used to the rhythm of their regular outings. The Slytherin common room felt cosy and calm, bathed in the soft light of the fire crackling in the hearth, casting a warm, golden glow across the space. Theo and Pansy were chatting animatedly about something trivial, while Blaise and Luna stayed, as usual, wrapped up in their own bubble, oblivious to the world around them.

You and Mattheo, however, were more on the edge of the group, tucked away in a quiet corner where silence hung comfortably in the air. He was staring into the flames, his mind distant, while you flicked through a book, your eyes quickly scanning the shelves of volumes in the common room.

It was you who broke the silence, your voice soft, laced with your usual curiosity.

“Have you finished that book, Mattheo?”

He gave you a look after a brief pause, responding casually.

“Yeah, it was quick to read, just like Cat’s Cradle.”

“You’ve read Cat’s Cradle?” you asked, surprised, your eyes lighting up instantly at the thought that he might be interested in such a quirky book.

Mattheo nodded with a relaxed gesture.

“Mm-hm.”

“I love that book,” you said enthusiastically. “I thought you said you didn’t read much.”

He laughed and shrugged, not giving it much thought.

“Well, what’s ‘much’?”

You laughed, satisfied with the answer, before diving back into your love for the book.

“Cat’s Cradle is just so chaotic, so human, you know? Like a distorted mirror of ourselves.”

Mattheo furrowed his brow, now visibly more interested.

“Human?”

“Yeah,” you continued, gesturing lightly. “The way Vonnegut portrays people, with all their confusing flaws—it’s so real. It’s a bit uncomfortable, but still, it’s genius.”

Mattheo watched you for a moment, trying to understand your perspective before replying in a teasing tone.

“I’m not sure ‘genius’ is the right word.”

You let out a soft laugh, not offended.

“No? And how would you describe it?”

He shrugged, his eyes drifting to the window beside him, watching the snow fall gently outside.

“It’s more like… a bunch of people getting into trouble because they’re too thick to see what’s right in front of them.”

You tilted your head slightly, amused by the simplicity of his argument.

“Exactly. That’s what makes it genius.”

Mattheo blinked, clearly impressed by your response. He wasn’t sure if you were joking or if you really believed it.

“You think stupidity is genius?”

“Nooo,” you said with a sideways smile. “But it makes us reflect on that human stupidity, like a portrait of our own contradictions, in a raw way. It’s uncomfortable, but in a weird way, it’s beautiful.”

Mattheo fell silent for a moment, processing your words.

“Beautiful?” He raised an eyebrow, as if trying to decide whether the comment was fascinating or just plain weird.

“Yes, beautiful,” you insisted, your tone calm but firm. “I think there’s beauty in accepting that we’re flawed, that we’re always trying, even when we know we might fail.”

He let out a low, almost incredulous laugh.

“You’ve got a peculiar way of looking at things.”

“Peculiar?” You laughed back, not losing the lightness of the moment. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Before he could respond, you leaned forward slightly, without thinking too much, and with a gentle gesture, you brushed a stray curl of hair from his face. Your touch was so natural that he barely had time to process it. Your fingers slid smoothly through his dark hair, pushing the curl away, and you did it with such ease that it felt completely normal to you. But for Mattheo, the action was enough to freeze him for a moment.

Mattheo froze. His mind instantly went on alert. The touch, though brief, had triggered a cascade of disconnected thoughts that he had no idea how to sort or deal with at that moment.

You, completely unaware of the inner battle Mattheo was facing, turned your attention back to the book you were skimming through, still intrigued by the shelves in the Slytherin common room. They were filled with delicate details, snakes and symbols, which gave the place a peculiar touch.

Mattheo, on the other hand, remained silent, lost in his own thoughts. He tried to push the moment’s impact aside, but it seemed impossible. The touch was still fresh on his skin, and the echo of your words about the book lingered in his mind.

ಇ

The night was quiet and peaceful at Hogwarts Castle. Mattheo lay in his dormitory, the soft light of the moon streaming through the window, casting a subtle glow over the room. His mind, however, was restless, filled with thoughts that were hard to sort. Almost mechanically, he reached for his wand, and with a subtle motion, began to move it, calling the music.

The first notes of “Crash Into Me” began to fill the room, softly, as Dave Matthews’ voice echoed through the space, enveloping him in a familiar melody. The song seeped into him like a comforting whisper, and something in it gripped him almost viscerally. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to be consumed by the music, and, without knowing why, raised his wand again to put the track on repeat.

The words of the song began to take on more meaning, subtly echoing within him, much like the thoughts swirling in his mind that he couldn’t quite organise. It was as if the song spoke directly to him, not in a clear and direct way, but through its rhymes and melody, something in between the lines made him think of you. Your calm presence, yet shrouded in mystery, took shape in his mind.

He turned over in bed, still immersed in confusing thoughts, trying to understand the nameless feeling that overtook him. What was this unease? The music seemed to break something inside him, as if it were unveiling parts of himself he didn’t know existed.

As the chords of the song filled the space around him, a quiet exhaustion began to settle in. He surrendered to the melody, letting himself drift, without haste or resistance. The last thing he thought of before falling asleep was your face.

In his dream, you were beneath the Astronomy Tower. The stars watched silently as you leaned against the balustrade, your hair softly shimmering, floating with the night’s breeze. They saw when you approached him, and the world around seemed to shrink, as if everything became insignificant. You kissed him, a simple, gentle kiss, incredibly soft, full of sincerity. When you pulled away, his eyes opened.

The song “Crash Into Me” still played in his ears, but the sensation of the kiss, the soft touch of your lips, lingered with him, even though the dream dissipated as quickly as it had come. He lay there, motionless, not knowing exactly when he had been struck. The confusion that had once dominated his thoughts now seemed entwined with that fleeting memory, and he allowed himself to feel.

ಇ

Theo’s dormitory was as cosy as ever, lit only by the bedside lamp, casting a soft yellow glow that created an intimate atmosphere. The lazy tendrils of cigarette smoke drifted in the air, mixing with the low hum of music playing from a small gramophone in the corner. Lorenzo was slouched on the sofa, his feet carelessly propped up on the coffee table, while Theo, seated on the floor with his back against the bed, took long drags from his cigarette, releasing the smoke in the air as if following a ritual.

Pansy, meanwhile, leaned against an armchair, distractedly fiddling with her wand. Mattheo remained on the outskirts, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, and visibly more distant than usual.

“So,” Pansy began, breaking the silence with a mischievous smile playing on her lips, though her tone remained casual, “I’m thinking of organising another group trip to Hogsmeade next Saturday. You coming?”

Mattheo raised an eyebrow, sceptical. “Who’s going?”

Pansy shrugged nonchalantly. “Me, obviously, Theo, Blaise, Lorenzo, Daphne… if she’s not busy.”

He gave a small nod, considering the idea. Maybe getting out a bit wouldn’t be so bad, even if he wasn’t exactly in the mood.

“And [Name],” Pansy added casually, throwing him a sly sidelong glance.

The effect was immediate. Mattheo froze, quickly averting his gaze. “Ah… no, I don’t think I’ll be going, then.”

Pansy stared at him, taken aback. “You’re not?”

“I’m just not in the mood,” he replied flatly, still avoiding her gaze.

“Not in the mood or running from her?” Pansy pressed, her tone sharp. She uncrossed her arms and stepped away from the armchair, facing him head-on.

He let out a humourless laugh, pushing away from the wall. “Oh, spare me, Pansy. This is just one of your dumb ideas to try and push me onto one of your friends. I’ve told you, it’s not going to work.”

“Push you onto my friends?” she repeated, incredulous, the disbelief clear in her voice. “Merlin’s beard, do you even hear what you’re saying? I’m just organising a trip, it’s not your bloody wedding!”

“Oh, right,” he shot back, his voice rising slightly. “You think I don’t notice? You’re always trying to set people up, like it’s some kind of game. But this isn’t some stupid romance novel. And honestly? She’s none of that, not worth the hassle.”

The silence that followed was thick, almost tangible. Even Lorenzo, who had seemed absorbed in his own thoughts, lifted his gaze, surprised by the bitterness in Mattheo’s voice. Pansy stood still for a moment before letting out a bitter laugh.

“Not worth the hassle?” she repeated, each word laced with icy venom, as she stepped right up to him. “Do you have any idea what utter rubbish you’ve just said?”

Mattheo tried to hold her stare, but there was something in her stance that unsettled him.

“You don’t even believe that,” she continued, her voice firm now. “You’re so terrified of the idea of liking her that you’d rather say something vile like that than admit it to yourself. But guess what, Mattheo? It doesn’t change a thing.”

He crossed his arms, frustration clearly etched on his face. “I’m not scared of anything. You’re the one harassing me with this ridiculous conversation.”

“Ridiculous?” Pansy raised her voice, frustration seeping through every word. “You’re the one acting ridiculous! As if liking someone is some kind of weakness. It’s pathetic, actually—it’s so sad, it’s almost funny.”

“Oh, fuck off, Pansy,” he snapped, his anger boiling over.

She laughed, a sarcastic chuckle escaping her. “I’m just trying to stop you from being an idiot. But, then again, maybe you don’t deserve someone like her. Maybe she’s too good for you, yeah?”

Mattheo clenched his jaw, irritation flashing across his face before he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

In the stillness of his own dormitory, he threw himself onto the bed, his chest still heaving from the argument. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to organise his thoughts, but Pansy’s words continued to echo in his mind like an unshakable spell.

“Maybe she’s too good for you.”

He knew he shouldn’t have said that. It wasn’t true, and he knew it. She was worth the effort, without a doubt. He remembered the way she spoke about books, how her eyes lit up with passion for things he didn’t even bother to notice. She was kind, funny, incredibly genuine, and, above all, special.

With a heavy sigh, he closed his eyes and stared at the ceiling. Pansy was right. He was an idiot. And, worse yet, an idiot in love.

ಇ

The pub in Hogsmeade was packed, but the noise around Jasmine felt distant as she watched the group of friends play pool with curiosity. The soft lighting gave the place a warm, inviting atmosphere, while the low music in the background punctuated the occasional laughter of Theo and Lorenzo, who were arguing about who the better player was.

Mattheo kept his gaze fixed on you, knowing there was no escaping this. He was already falling, and he knew it. Rather than resist, he decided to enjoy the moment. There was something about your cautious yet charming manner that stirred him in a way he couldn’t quite understand. But soon he realised there was no need to comprehend it. It was as if the fall was inevitable, and somehow, the view would be worth it. All that was left for him to do was relax and let it happen. Maybe it was time to be bolder. Let the fall happen. He was ready for whatever came next and wanted to see how far it could go.

“Go on, who’s next?” Theo asked, twirling the cue stick with a teasing smile, aiming it at you.

“Definitely not me,” you muttered instantly, shrugging behind your butterbeer.

“Oh, come on,” Pansy teased, smiling. “You’ve never played?”

You shook your head, feeling a little out of place. “No idea how to play.”

Before Pansy could insist, Mattheo pushed off from the wall where he had been leaning, arms casually crossed, and approached. “I’ll teach you.”

You looked up at him, surprised. “You don’t have to, I—”

“Come here,” he interrupted, leaving no room for protest. He reached out and, before you could object, gently took hold of your wrist, guiding you to the right spot at the table.

Frozen, you watched him as if he’d just cast a spell. There was something so natural about the gesture – as though you’d shared this kind of proximity for years – that it left you speechless.

“Grab the cue,” he instructed, his voice low and slightly husky. You obeyed, holding the cue with clear hesitation.

Mattheo took a step back, so close that you could feel the warmth radiating from his body. “Like this,” he said, adjusting his hands over yours. His fingers were firm but didn’t squeeze; the touch felt casual, yet it carried an intimacy that made you blush instantly.

He tilted his head, his voice close to your ear. “You need to align with the ball.”

His breath seemed to brush against your skin, and your heart raced. “Right… okay.”

He chuckled softly. “Relax, you’re all tense.”

“I’m not tense!” you protested, though the nervousness in your voice gave you away.

“Of course not,” he teased, shifting his hands slightly to adjust the position. “Now aim here.”

Biting your lip, you tried to focus, even though the closeness made it nearly impossible. The sound of his voice, the way he leaned in, his firm yet careful touch – it was all making your mind spin.

“Ready?” he asked, and you nodded, feeling your face heat up.

With his help, you moved the cue forward, striking the ball harder than you expected. It rolled across the table, hitting a few others before dropping into one of the pockets.

“See?” he said, stepping back slightly but keeping his hand near yours. “That wasn’t so hard.”

You laughed nervously, too shy to meet his eyes. “I think it was more you than me.”

“Maybe,” he replied casually, but his gaze was now locked on yours.

You noticed he was still holding your hand, even though it wasn’t necessary anymore, and for a moment, you were completely speechless. When he finally let go, the touch seemed to linger.

“Next,” he said, handing the cue to Theo, who was already laughing.

You stepped away from the table, trying to regain your composure, but your heart was still racing. Pansy watched you with a mischievous smile, but said nothing – which, in some way, was even more embarrassing.

Mattheo, now leaning back against the wall again, looked relaxed, though a subtle smile played on his lips. He knew exactly what he’d done – and he seemed to be enjoying it.

The night was light, filled with laughter and pool shots. You still felt a bit embarrassed about the last shot, about Mattheo’s unexpected touch, and the way he seemed so at ease. The way he approached so naturally, as if there was an intimacy between you two that you didn’t know how to handle, made you nervous, but also… curious.

At one point, you stepped away to grab the drink you’d left on the table, and Mattheo was right behind you, not wasting a second before taking the empty glass from your hand.

“I’ll get you another,” he said, flashing a casual smile.

You raised an eyebrow, glancing at him and then at the empty glass he’d taken from your hand. “Hey, I can do it myself.”

He shrugged as he walked away. “So what? Let me do it for you.”

You stared at him as he made his way to the bar, wanting to protest, but knowing he probably wouldn’t care. He was back quickly, drink in hand, placing it gently in front of you.

“Here,” he said, smiling tranquilly.

Still unsure how to react, you responded, “You really don’t listen, do you?”

He laughed easily and sat beside you. “I listen, I just don’t care. And let’s be honest,” he chuckled softly, “you’re not exactly good at hiding that you like it when I do things for you.”

Your face flushed, but you weren’t sure whether you were more surprised by the comment or by how comfortable he seemed with the situation. You tried to change the subject, though your voice still sounded hesitant. “I really could’ve filled my own glass.”

“Sure,” he interrupted with a sly grin, “but I wanted to do it.”

Not knowing how to respond, you looked down, crossing your legs and resting the drink on your thigh, unsure of how to act when Mattheo was messing with your composure. But secretly, you were enjoying this new side of him – unsure of how to react, but liking it all the same.

“I know what I’m doing,” you whispered, more to yourself.

“I know, princess,” he replied with an easy grin, “but I like doing it.”

ಇ

As time passed, your meetings became more frequent. The group hangouts gradually gave way to moments alone, and the relationship between you two became more comfortable and intimate. Being in each other’s company felt natural, easy, almost like an extension of everyday life. Mattheo’s behaviour grew more spontaneous, with fewer of the usual walls he built up when you were around. And it wasn’t just you who noticed; the entire group of friends could see it too.

One night, you were in Mattheo’s dorm. The atmosphere was calm and welcoming, with the scent of scented candles he’d started using now permanently filling the room. They were burning all around, three on the dresser and others on the bedside table. Meanwhile, Mattheo was rummaging through the wardrobe shelves and found a few hidden bottles. It was cheap wine that Theo had bought to settle a silly bet, but had forgotten there. Mattheo remembered it like it had happened yesterday. He looked at the bottle with a smile, laughing to himself. You raised an eyebrow, suspicious.

“I can’t believe you’re going to drink that,” you said, laughing lightly while lying on the black carpet in the middle of the room, fiddling with the radio.

Mattheo shrugged, flashing a carefree smile. “Of course I am, it’s here, right?”

You gave him a sceptical look, but couldn’t help but laugh at his audacity. “That’s a bit weird.”

“It’s nothing,” he replied, walking over and sitting beside you, holding the bottle out. “Try it, go on.”

Hesitant, but tempted, you sat next to him, smiling nervously. You took the bottle from his hand, laughing before bringing it to your lips, keeping your eyes fixed on his.

After a bottle and a half shared between you, the effects of the wine were already clear. The conversation flowed easily, words coming out freely, and you both laughed at anything, letting yourselves enjoy the sense of freedom the moment brought.

Then Mattheo stood up, walked over to the radio, and adjusted the music. Fleetwood Mac, one of his favourite bands, and he knew it well. The soft notes filled the room, creating a relaxing and warm atmosphere. He smiled at you, stood up from the carpet, and waited for you to follow. “Don’t you want to dance?”

You looked at him hesitantly, but he was watching you as if daring you. It didn’t take long before you got up, still a bit loose from the alcohol, and started dancing awkwardly, singing along with Stevie Nicks, a silly grin on your face. Mattheo held your hands and settled on the bed, watching your dance. There was no pretension; it was a spontaneous dance, a bit off-beat, but genuine.

Mattheo watched you with a satisfied smile, but his gaze revealed something more. He saw you differently. You moved with clumsy grace, not caring about the rhythm, and he was completely captivated by the way you threw yourself into the moment, without a hint of self-consciousness. Your movements, though not sensual, were, in that instant, the most captivating thing he’d ever seen. You were so at ease, as if you were dancing just for him. And, in a way, you were.

You laughed, unaware of the effect you had, how your hair shone and moved perfectly with the rhythm of your motions. That sight, so natural, only drew him in more. When the music finally ended, you stopped, out of breath, and looked at him with a mischievous grin, holding onto his shoulders while he watched you from below, his expression one of admiration.

“See? Was this what you wanted?” you asked, regaining your composure, but with a faint blush on your cheeks.

“More than I expected.”

The music still filled the room, but slowly, it became a distant echo, overshadowed by the tension that now dominated the space. The air felt heavier, each heartbeat ringing in your ears as you locked eyes with him. Your hands still rested on his shoulders, and despite the relaxed smile that appeared on his face, there was something in Mattheo’s gaze that made the lightness of the moment take on a new weight.

His eyes were fixed on yours, serious, intense, filled with an emotion you couldn’t quite decipher. Something in that look seemed ready to spill over, and before you could even question it, the space between you two was vanishing. Mattheo moved, his strong hands reaching up to cradle your face, holding it with a gentleness that contrasted with the fervour in his expression. The world around you faded in the blink of an eye. No more cheap wine, no more candles, no more Stevie Nicks in the background. It was just the two of you.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for a while,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, filling the silence between you. His gaze didn’t waver, and the proximity made each word feel even more intimate, almost like a confession. A shiver ran down your spine, but you didn’t respond. There were no words that could capture what was going through your mind.

When he finally closed the remaining space between you, his lips found yours, and everything seemed to fall into place. The kiss began firm but soon softened, as if he was exploring each detail, testing, savouring the moment with an almost palpable intensity.

His hands didn’t stay still. One slid to your waist, fingers slipping beneath your shirt, touching your warm skin with a mixture of firmness and care. The other moved up to your neck, fingers light as a caress, but determined, keeping you close, as if he wanted to make sure you wouldn’t slip away.

When his lips left yours, it was only to trace a deliberate path along your jawline, down to the delicate spot on your neck, where he could feel your pulse quicken. Each kiss was meticulous, almost reverent, as you closed your eyes, surrendering to the sensation. The softness of his touch seemed to contradict the intensity he maintained with every movement, and it made the moment all the more overwhelming.

Then, unexpectedly, Mattheo made a quick movement, pulling you onto the bed.

He was firm, but careful, lying you down with precision and security, as if guiding you through a dance he had already mentally rehearsed. Your bodies moulded into the surroundings, as if the moment had been waiting for you both.

Mattheo pulled back slightly, his hands slowly lifting your shirt, with a near ceremonial slowness. There was no rush, just a clear intention in every gesture, as though he was absorbing the significance of what was happening. His eyes scanned your body, but not with haste or crude desire. There was something almost devotional in that gaze, something that made your breath quicken and slow at the same time.

His lips descended to your stomach, touching it with the lightness of a promise. Each kiss seemed to hold something unspoken, something long-kept. Mattheo's fingers traced slow paths along your skin, as though he wanted to memorise every detail, while you let out a sigh that seemed to echo in the intimacy of the room.

For a brief moment, he lifted his head, meeting your gaze. His eyes sparkled with a mix of desire and playfulness, and a light smile curved his lips before he leaned in again, the kisses resuming their course, now with even more care, as if each touch was a silent vow of adoration.

#harry potter #riddleriddles #slytherin x hufflepuff #slytherpuff #mattheo fluff #mattheo imagine #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo x you #mattheoxreader #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle

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yandere-daydreams · 5 months ago

Text

Title: Cherry Red.

Pairing: Yandere!Gojo x Reader x Yandere!Geto (JJK).

Written in conjunction with this ask from @eevwrites.

Word Count: 1.9k.

TW: Non/Con, Fem!Reader, Nonconsensual Drug Use, Implied Stalking, Kidnapping, Obsessive Behavior, Overstimulation, Biting/Marking, and Slight Dehumanization.

Really, your only mistake had been choosing the wrong savoir after Satoru had slipped something into your drink.

Satoru was obviously, visibly, undeniably a creep. That much was obvious from the second he approached you, neon pink cocktail in-hand and that degenerate grin plastered across his lips. He was sketchy, but he was also rich, and fun, and willing to dance with you hours after the rest of your friends had called it a night. Suguru wasn’t a creep – or, he didn’t look like one, at least. When your vision started to darken, when it became harder than it should’ve been to put one foot in front of the other, it was his chest you stumbled into, using what was left of your consciousness to beg an imposing, aloof stranger to get the bartender’s attention and help you. It was what anyone else would’ve done. It was what you would’ve done, if the roles had been reversed.

It wasn’t until you felt his arm wrap around your waist, until you heard him call so lovingly to Satoru, that you realized how badly you’d fucked up.

Still, stumbling halfway across the club and throwing yourself at a total stranger must've attracted some attention. As Suguru gathered you in his arms, the bartender rounded towards you, eyeing your limp form and Suguru's slight smile warily. “Someone had little too much to drink,” he explained, nonchalantly. “It’s fine. Her boyfriend and I are going to take her home and make sure she gets tuck her in.”

‘Your boyfriend’ being Satoru, apparently, judging by the way he clung to Suguru’s side as you were carried out of the club entirely and piled into the backseat of an inconspicuous black car. Suguru drove and Satoru hovered over you – gnawing hickeys and bruises into your throat until you were too far gone to care.

Whatever they’d dosed you with, it was strong. You were strung out for most of the ride, only vaguely aware of passing scenery, Satoru’s keening whines, and Suguru’s gentle reminders to ‘wait, ‘toru’. By the time you felt your body being lifted, you were beyond the point of deliberate movement – your mind hyperactive, eager to latch onto every little sensation and spiraling thought, but unable to do much more than remind you to breath as you were hauled through a shrine courtyard and into a small, dimly lit backroom; the priest’s personal barracks, if you had to guess. Satoru babbled while Suguru lowered you onto a large, plush bed, and despite your best efforts, you caught most of it. “—and that’s when I knew it had to be you.” Suguru spared you an apologetic smile, his nimble hands moving over your body as he carefully removed your dress, then your shoes, then your panties, stripping you bare with all the care and all the tenderness of an avid collector undressing his favorite doll. “I mean, it took a few months, but I wanted it to be romantic, y’know? Suguru doesn’t get it. He thought I’d be happy with just anyone.”

“It took me a while to come around the idea. I might’ve gotten a little jealous.” You could only wish he would’ve stayed that away. “Come here, I need to show you what you’re doing.”

Suguru dragged you into his lap, keeping your upper body propped against his chest while spreading your legs apart in front of him. Satoru took his position eagerly between then, his eyes fixed on your cunt. “This,” he started, using two thick fingers to spread the folds of your labia apart, “is what you’re gonna fall in love with. Make sure you’re always paying attention to her clit – aw, look, it’s already poking out.”

It was humiliatingly clinical – how he touched you while explaining your anatomy in-detail, using the pad of his thumb to show Satoru how to play with your clit, dipping two fingers into your entrance while extrapolating on the importance of proper preparation, gathering your arousal up to make sure Satoru knew what it would look like when he was doing a good job. “Remember to be gentle. She’s going to be a lot more delicate than me,” he said, while curling two fingers inside of you, filling the bedroom with a rhythmic, humiliatingly wet sound. Your couldn't seem to open your mouth, and yet, little whimpers of discomfort and mewls of pleasure escaped your parted lips without resistance, each new noise drawing Satoru that much closer. “You’ll just be using your mouth, for now. We can talk about hands once you’ve shown some restraint.”

And yet, Satoru’s hands still found their way to your thighs, kneading mindlessly while Suguru split you open on his fingers. You tried to shake your head, to squirm against him, to tell him to stop, but the closest you got to anything coherent was a pitchy, keening sound not totally dissimilar to the whines Satoru would let out every now and then as he ground half-consciously into the mattress. You tried not to feel anything, either, but Suguru’s hands were so big, and his chest was so warm against your back, and with Satoru all-but drooling over your pussy, it would’ve been impossible not to come undone the second his palm ground against your clit and he spread his fingers apart inside of you, nursing you through your orgasm while making sure you were on fully-display. “See how she’s clenching down? That means she’s trying to milk your cock – you’ll get what I mean, once your inside of her.”

If only for a moment, your panic overshadowed your paralysis. Thrashing to either side, you did your best to fight against Suguru’s ironclad hold and finally spit something out, even if your voice was still barely stronger than a whimper. “N-No, don’t, you can’t—”

It was Satoru who cut you off, this time, albeit without breaking his nonverbal streak. His mouth crashed into yours with enough force to bruise, teeth clashing against yours as he shoved his tongue down your throat in less of a kiss and more of a prolonged attempt to choke you to death. It hurt, and you tasted blood, and if you hadn’t known better, than you would’ve thought this was his first—

Oh, god.

As if this couldn’t have gotten any worse.

He didn’t stay focused on your mouth for long. His attention drifted downward – first to your throat, then your collarbone, then your chest, latching onto one of your nipples and sucking harshly. You hadn’t realized how sensitive you were, not until his teeth dug into the plush of your breast and you let out a fractured sob, tears blurring your vision. Suguru’s response was instantaneous. In a fraction of a second, his slick-stained fingers were tangled in Satoru’s hair, prying him off of you entirely. “Gentle,” he repeated, his tone strict, authoritative. “Before I decide you need to be muzzled.”

For what it was worth, Satoru seemed apologetic. After Suguru loosened his hold, he nuzzled into your chest, lapping over his past love bites with the flat of his tongue. “’m sorry, just got excited.” And then, smiling up at you, “You didn’t mind, right? I mean, she definitely doesn’t.”

You had no idea what he was talking about, not until his head dropped to your cunt and he buried his face between your thighs, his attention suddenly solely dedicated to your pussy.

There was no attempt made to use his hands. Despite Suguru’s instructions, he ate you out like a starving animal – his tongue fucking into your cunt as the bridge of his nose ground mindlessly against your clit. Suguru kept his hand in Satoru’s hair, petting gingerly over his scalp as he watched Satoru drool and lap at your cunt. “Use your entire tongue, and don't inhale. She’s not going to be impressed if you manage to drown yourself in pussy.” Suguru tugged lightly, and Satoru let out an unabashed moan, the reverberations going straight to your core. “Don't get distracted, either. Don’t you want to know what she tastes like cumming on your tongue?”

Another moan, another rough buck of Satoru’s hips into the now disheveled sheets. He was terrible, and messy, and loud, and it was humiliating how quickly you lost control of yourself – going stiff against Suguru as Satoru all-but tore your second climax out of you. Suguru grinned against your throat, almost purring with satisfaction. “Good boy. So dedicated, so sweet.” He let go of Satoru’s hair – cupping your face, instead. It was only as his thumb traced over your cheek that you realized you were crying in-earnest, now. “She’s tearing up, ‘toru. That means she wants you to keep going.”

A mix of your arousal and his saliva stained the inside of your thighs, dampening the sheets underneath you, but he didn’t pull away – too caught up in your taste or Suguru’s praise to stop. It might’ve been the overstimulation, or the drugs, or some impossible, nebulous factor you couldn’t so much as begin to guess as, but time seemed to blur together, reality buckling under its own weight as Satoru wrung another orgasm out of you, then another, then another, as Suguru continued to shower him with praise and affection and promises that you liked him, that you wanted this, that you were only crying and thrashing and trying to snap your thighs shut because you felt so good. At some point, you lost the will to keep your eyes open, and minutes later, the harsher edges of your consciousness began to soften. For once, you couldn't be mad at your own body's instinctual submission.

You knew you were going to black out, but you weren't scared. By the time your vision flickered out and everything went black, the only thing you could think to be was grateful that you’d be fortunate enough to miss the main event.

You woke up what felt like days later, still lying on the bed you’d blacked out in. Their paralytics had worn off, but trying to make a run for it was out of the question. Every part of your body ached – from your hickey-painted chest to your aching hips to your poor, abused pussy – and even if you’d been able to move, it wouldn’t have done you much good. Familiar bodies caged you in on either side, Suguru’s chest still pressing into your back while Satoru clung to your chest, his arms wrapped around your midriff and his nails embedded in your sides. As if you hadn't already been thoroughly marked.

Suguru stirred first, predictably. It wasn’t hard to tell who was in charge between the two of them. “Our little sleeping beauty,” he muttered into your hair, kissing the top of your head as he sat up and shook Satoru away. “We were starting to get worried – must’ve pushed you too hard last night. You almost missed the most important part.”

Something caught in your throat. “…almost?”

“Yes, princess, almost.” With a groan, Satoru sat up, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. Immediately, his gaze fell to you, and just as quickly, he was on top of you – pinning you to the mattress, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. “You should be thankful that Satoru had the patience to wait. I wouldn’t have been so nice.”

You felt Satoru’s hands paw at your thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist as he aligned his stiff, leaking cock with your entrance. He moved enthusiastically, but mechanically, like a trained dog. Like he was following instructions. Weakly, you tried to push at his chest, to get him away from you, but you gave up quickly.

You’d been wrong to be grateful. It would’ve been better to get this over with last night.

At least, then, you might’ve been out of it enough to miss the twisted, blissful, lovesick grin painted across Satoru’s lips as he buried himself inside of you.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere x you #yandere jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen imagines #yandere gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #yandere geto suguru #geto suguru x reader

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judyvan · 5 months ago

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Keep It Down (The Morning After) - Matt Sturniolo Fanfic

｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

The Morning After

Summary: You desperately want Matt, but his brothers are in the house. Will you be able to contain yourself to avoid the awkwardness?

Warnings: MDNI/ suggestive sexual content/ mattxfem!reader/ bf!matt/ daddy kink/ humiliation/ use of "you"

A/N: This is my first fanfic. Interactions are appreciated. There are multiple parts to this story, this is the last one. Please don't steal my shit. Thanks!💋

To read the first part (Movie Night) click here.

To read the second part click here.

｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

When your eyes peel open the next morning, your head instantly replays the sexual encounter you and Matt had. Just remembering the way that you felt, sends a jolt down your body. Nick and Chris couldn’t find something else to do soon enough. You roll over to find Matt still asleep. You stare at him and admire his beauty for a few minutes. How could someone be this sexy when they aren’t even awake? You gently push the hair off of his forehead and plant a gentle kiss where his hair was once laying. The warmth of your lips makes Matt’s eyes flutter open.

“I’m going to go make breakfast,” you whisper, Matt struggling to keep his eyes open. You play with his hair. The graze of your fingernails against his scalp send tingles down his spine, lulling him to sleep.

“Mhm,” he barely lets out before dozing back off.

You creep out of bed in search for your panties. You are gently moving around the room, partly to avoid waking Nick and Chris, but also because you can barely walk. Nick and Chris typically wake up after you and Matt, but, with all of last night's ruckus, you don't want to take any chances. After putting on your underwear, you head to Matt’s dresser and grab a pair of his boxers out of a drawer to wear as shorts. You leave the room and make your way to the kitchen, every step quiet and planned out, avoiding all of the creaky floorboards.

You enter the kitchen and walk over to the fridge. Upon opening the doors, you don’t find much to work with. Typical. After rounding up some things, you make your way to the stove. You begin to make some bacon and scrambled eggs. Every sizzle and pop make you jump, on edge about having to come face to face with your boyfriend’s brothers. When the bacon and eggs are done, you put them on a plate and start to mix the pancake batter. As you pour some circles on the pan, you hear someone enter the kitchen. Don’t turn around. Don’t turn around. Unexpectedly, you see a tattooed arm wrap around your waist. Your hand reaches up and comes into contact with the stubble on the side of Matt’s face. He pulls you into a tight hug from behind.

“Goodmorning,” he says groggily, kissing you on the top of your head. His morning voice makes your stomach lurch, obviously eager to have him back inside of you.

“Goodmorning,” you reply. Your voice is still slightly hoarse from hollering last night. Matt chuckles at your inability to talk completely normally.

“What’s cookin’ good lookin’?” Matt asks as you flip a few pancakes. His big hands find your thighs and slide up the boxer shorts that you’re wearing. He nudges your head to the side and passionately kisses your neck, hooking his fingers under your panties. He clearly isn’t over last night either. Your knees almost buckle at the feel of him touching you.

The sound of Nick’s door opening instantly pulls the two of you apart. Matt grabs a piece of bacon and seductively puts it in his mouth walking towards cabinets.

“Where are you going,” you say, slightly panicked. You gesture to Matt with your eyes to not leave you alone.

“To set the table,” he says with a cocky shrug and smug look on his face. He grabs a few plates and some silverware.

“Umm… we don’t do that,” you say back.

“Remember, it was your idea,” Matt says, winking at you as he walks towards the dining room. As Matt escapes, Nick and Chris enter the kitchen.

“Goodmorning,” they say together, making their presence known.

“Goodmorning,” you say back, trying to keep composed. You flip some more pancakes.

“How did you sleep?” Chris asks, walking towards the dining room.

“I slept good. How about you?” you reply, you pull the last few pancakes off of the pan, place them on their own plate, and turn off the stove.

“I slept awesome!” Chris says, turning to give you 2 thumbs up before running off to join Matt. Nick stays back to help you carry the food into the dining room. The two of you walk in, set the plates down, and take your seats.

“So…did you guys finish that movie last night?” Nick asks, starting up a conversation.

“We watched like half of it,” you say, spooning some eggs onto your plate.

“Was it good? Like really, really, really good?” Nick asks, putting some bacon in his mouth. Chris chuckles under his breath.

“Yeah,” Matt says nonchalantly.

“Yeah I thought it would be. You know, I heard it was really good. That’s why I agreed to watching it last night,” Nick says back. He added extra emphasis to the word 'heard'. Chris smirks, picking up a pancake with his fork.

“Chris, could you pass me the bacon please,” Matt says, desperately trying to change the subject.

“Yes Matt! I will,” Chris says, sliding the plate to him. Nick and Chris make eye contact and laugh slightly. At this point, you really can’t tell if they know what happened between you and Matt. They were acting a little weird, but they almost always acted odd. Matt was the only one in a relationship and they loved to pick at the two of you for it.

“Thanks,” Matt says, giving Chris an odd look.“Can you hand me the pancakes too?”

“Oh Matt! Yes! I would love to,” he replies, earning a cackle from Nick. He gives Matt the pancakes and everyone resumes eating. Periodically, you catch Nick and Chris giving each other weird glances. Every time they make eye-contact, you can see them trying to hold back a laugh. Nick begins to giggle under his breath, shaking his head. Chris wipes the smile off of his own face and stands from the table.

“I’m going to go get something to drink,” he says, trying to gain composure.

“Could you get something for us too,” Matt says sassily, gesturing to everyone else at the table.

Chris momentarily stops in his tracks.

“Yes Daddy!” Chris moans at the top of his lungs, tilting his head back and screaming into the air.

That’s when it all clicks. This motherfucker is mocking you. Your face instantly turns red as your eyes dart to Matt’s, looking for comfort. Matt can tell that you want out of this situation. Nick erupts with laughter as Chris continues to walk towards the kitchen, never looking back. Matt’s eyes shuffle back and forth, from Nick to Chris.

“Alright. I think we’re going to take this breakfast to bed,” Matt states matter of factly. He grabs your plates and begins to head to his room with you right on his heels. Nick and Chris’s laughter fill the room, getting quieter as you move further away.

"Thanks for the breakfast," you hear Chris chuckle out.

Upon entering his room, Matt sits your plates down on the dresser. He grabs the remote, selects the first movie he can find, and turns the volume all the way up. He locks the door and then sets his attention completely on you. He lifts you into the air and your legs automatically wrap around his torso. The two of you begin to kiss intimately. Matt gently lays you on his bed and removes his shirt, hovering above you.

“What about our food?” you question, out of breath.

“It can wait,” he says, climbing on top of you. He begins to kiss your neck erotically, sending shocks through your body. “I said I was going to have my breakfast in bed.”

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #nicholas sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #matt x reader #matt x you #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x you

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nectar-cellar · 7 months ago

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Downtown Roles Mod Tutorial - TS3 - Mature Gameplay Ideas

NSFW 18+ mature content / a long read

TLDR: this is a compilation/recommendation list of mods, a tutorial on how to set up NPCs, and how to tie it all together to add some mature gameplay to your save. 😈

Misukisu/Virtual Artisan had a “Downtown Roles” mod that sadly does not work anymore for the latest versions of TS3. Her mod basically allowed players to add role sims to community lots so your sims could have more NPCs to interact with, making the lots feel more alive in a mature "downtown" sort of way.

I was inspired by her mod and I want to share how you can recreate and expand her mod’s functions with Nraas Register and Arsil’s Custom Generic Role mod. Some players might already know how these mods work, but it was a new discovery for me. I didn’t know how useful role sims could be! It got the gears in my dirty mind turning.

The main purpose of this mod list/tutorial: to add role sims to community lots for your main sims to interact with, while they’re out on the town. These will be sims outside of your household. Their main “job” is to hang out at the lot. You can let the game generate new sims to fill these roles, or assign existing sims in the town to fill the roles.

Examples of role sims you can create:

A regular patron at a dive bar for your sim to befriend or make enemies with.

A sexy single sim at a beach, gym, pool, bar or club for your sim to mingle and hook up with.

An escort at a brothel for your sim to woohoo with (Passion mod).

A client for your sim to sell drugs/weapons to (MonocoDoll Vile Ventures mod and Arms Dealing mod) - I have not tested this but in theory it should work.

You can add multiple role sims on each lot. You could have a number of partygoers on a club lot/a number of escorts on a brothel lot/a number of mobsters or criminals on a warehouse lot who will always be there when your sim visits.

Why role sims?

Townies are unpredictable - you never know which lot they’ll show up on, and how long they’ll stay. Role sims will consistently be there as the supporting characters in your main sim’s story.

Having consistent NPCs at certain locations around town can help with story-driven gameplay scenarios.

You can move a household of your own sims into town and assign them to fill various roles. See pretty NPCs around town!

If you let the game generate new sims for the roles, then it saves you the hassle of setting up new households yourself. You can always edit them later in CAS.

Limitations:

According to Arsil, it seems like sims who are already employed (such as most townies) will be removed from their jobs if they are assigned to be role sims. So I would avoid using any employed townies for this unless you are ok with that. Use unemployed residents instead.

I believe the role sim cannot leave the lot during the designated work hours. Your sim cannot form a group with them and go to another venue. However, you can invite the sim over or hang out afterwards from the relationship panel.

Mods Needed:

Nraas Master Controller + Integration Module

Nraas Register

Arsil‘s Custom Generic Role mod (both the floor marker and the desk)

Passion (if you want your sim to be able to have sex with the role sims on the lot or have the role sims dance on the stripper pole)

MonocoDoll’s Vile Ventures mod (if you want to create NPC clients for your sim to sell to)

MonocoDoll��s Arms Dealing mod (if you want to create NPC clients for your sim to sell to)

How to Set Up:

Step 1: Install the mods listed above. Then, open the save file you want to add some downtown sleaze to.

Step 2: Find a community lot you want to add role sims to. This could be a bar, nightclub, brothel/motel/strip club, a run-down warehouse or block of buildings, casino, etc. I have downloaded many lots from Flora2 at ModtheSims and @simsmidgen here on Tumblr that fit the gritty urban vibe.

Step 3: Enter Build/Buy mode. You can do this from Live mode.

Press Ctrl + Shift + C, enter this cheat: testingcheatsenabled true

Press the Shift key and click on the ground of the community lot.

Click on “Build on this lot”.

You can also enter Edit Town mode to renovate the community lot.

Step 4: Place Arsil’s Custom Generic Role floor marker or desk on the lot. Place one for each role sim you want to create. They are located in Build Mode -> Community Objects -> Misc. If the desk looks out of place, use the floor marker instead.

Step 5: In Live mode, click on the object -> Settings to set:

The name of the role (clubgoer/stripper/escort/mobster/etc.)

The “work” hours the sim will be on the lot for

The days off

The motives to freeze or not (I recommend freezing all the motives to avoid interactions being interrupted/sims complaining due to low motives)

If the sim you want to assign to the role already lives in town, click on the object -> Nraas -> Register -> Select -> Choose criteria -> select the sim from the list. I would avoid choosing any employed townies as they may lose their job when switching to this role. Choose unemployed residents to avoid conflicts.

Remove assigned roles: click on the object to remove the sim from the role.

Step 6: In Live mode, click on City Hall -> Nraas -> Register

Allow immigration: choose whether you want new sims to be moved into town to take the roles (enable this if you want the game to generate new sims for the roles)

Allow immigration = False: if you set this option to false, then a new option called "Find Empty Roles" should appear. You can then assign any sim to the role object you placed, from City Hall.

Allow resident assignment: choose whether you want existing unemployed townies to be randomly assigned to fill the roles (I recommend to disable this. I had Buster Clavell show up to work at my strip club. NO!)

Pay per hour: I'm not sure how to adjust the pay for each custom role but you can just leave it at the default or change it globally

Remove roles: click on the object to remove the sim from the role, or click on City Hall -> Nraas -> Register -> Global Roles -> Remove by sim

Step 7: In Live mode, give the game some time to generate the role sims. Visit the community lot and have a look at your new role sims. The role sims should autonomously interact with other sims and objects on the lot. Using Nraas Master Controller, you can take the sim into CAS to give them a makeover, edit their traits, or replace them with a sim from your sim bin.

Step 8: Make your sim interact with the shiny new role sims and play out the storylines you always wished were possible. Public hookups, functioning brothels, selling drugs and guns - this is what The Sims 3 was made for, baby!!!

Related Mods:

Arsil’s Exotic Dancer Stage - if you have a club community lot, you can use this mod to hire dancers. You can use role sims to add other NPCs to the club such as guests, shady business sims, or non-dancer sex workers.

Nraas Relativity - this handy mod can slow down the speed of time so your sim can spend more time doing their "activities"

Nraas Woohooer - if you don’t want the explicit sex animations from Passion, you could use this mod instead to provide more woohoo options.

Passion - for brothels/strip clubs, this mod will add sex animations and the ability to have role sims dance on the stripper pole.

MonocoDoll’s Vile Ventures mod and Arms Dealing mod - you can use role sims to create more clients for your sim to sell drugs and weapons to, like different individuals/gangs/mobs. You could have different clients hanging out at different spots in the city.

LazyDuchess Lot Population - this mod populates community lots with townies, and they can interact with the role sims you’ve created.

Service Sims Out on the Town - this pushes service sims to visit community lots, to add even more variety to your crowds.

Conclusion

If you made it to the end, thank you for reading. Please let me know if you try out this style of gameplay, and if you have ideas for more role sims and community lots to make. This tutorial was NSFW-oriented but you could easily adapt it to create NPCs for SFW community lots.

#s3cc #ts3cc #the sims 3 #ts3

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elexaria · 1 year ago

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price is a good influence on the boys, always keeping them in line. its almost like theyre his boys, he doesn’t pass up the opportunity to talk about them with a proud growl in his voice. they dont know this, but he even has a tattered photo of the four of them in his wallet. he’s never settled down, never had kids, so even if theyre only around a decade younger than him, they’re like his own.

well, he’s almost always a good influence on the boys.

the new bit around the military campus, she’s a sight for sore eyes. the capt can’t help but clear his throat, one arm around her shoulder so casually. he’s a charmer, that’s for sure. “don’t let ‘em paw at you, yeah? you tell ‘ol pricey if these dogs bark at you, love, and i’ll let ‘em know who holds the reigns here.” he purrs in her ear, the rough timbre of his voice is enough to make anyone’s blood run hot.

the boys know better than to try and cuckhold price, after all, he’s kind enough to let them watch him as he flirts with the lil honey on base. their eyes watch keenly as he squeezes her arse as she passes by, a smug grin on his lips as she turns around with a playful gasp. he’ll turn his head, nodding with a grunt at the boys. “y’see that, lads? like putty in my hands, she is.” he remarks, and the boys guffaw like a group of schoolboys at how cool he is.

it gets even better when, after a year of casual dating, his lil lady agrees to let the boys in behind closed doors. “just let ‘em watch, yeah? poor boys dont get much action, it’s for morale i ‘spose. keeps ‘em fit and fired up.” he murmurs lowly in her ear, quiet enough only for her to hear. their dance is as old as time, his large hands dancing around her soft skin. her moans are like a siren’s call to the boys, it gets the hairs at the nape of their necks standing. hell, that’s not the only thing that stands to attention when price parts the glistening folds of her cunt, chuckling as he steps back to nod his head at the boys. “stunning, ‘ent she?” he growls out, a smug grin on his face as he leans on his side, dipping two fingers inside of her slowly while his thumb toys with her clit.

my god, you can HEAR the boy’s heavy breathing as they watch price toy with his girl, and johnny’s the first one to break the awkwardness by rubbing his erection through his jeans discreetly. price notices, and raises his eyebrows. “lads, the missus doesn’t mind if you rub one out. do you, sweetheart?” he coos as he crooks his fingers up inside of her, jamming the pads of his fingers up into the spongy spot where she likes it. she gasps, nodding as she looks over at how quickly the lads begin to unbuckle their belts, their cocks quickly springing up out of their confines. a symphony of grunts that harmoniously blend together with her gasps and mewls, and all are at the mercy of price. he continues to toy with her, to prolong her pleasure until, and it doesn’t take long, until the boys cum right then and there— thick ropes of cum spurting into their fists.

with a chuckle, price rises to sit on the bed, his hand now gently rubbing against her folds in a teasing manner. “right, bugger off you bunch of reprobates. give us some privacy, yeah?” he chuckles, motioning towards the door as they’re all quick to tuck their spent cocks in the waistbands of their boxers, quickly scampering off at the call of their captain.

the next morning, they’ll all sit round a small table, making comments about how good price is, how lucky they are to have seen that performance. “he deffo would let us shag her if we asked, ye ken.” johnny says quietly, leaning in close to the lads in a conspiratorial manner.

“johnny, stop thinking with your dick.” simon gruffly replies, shaking his head as to dismiss the silly notion.

“yeah, no way would he let us.” gaz agrees, a defeated sigh escaping his lips as he leans back in his seat. “she was fit, though.” he chuckles, rubbing his face as they all begin to impishly laugh at the memory.

#elexaria writes #cod x reader #captain price smut #john soap mactavish #gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #cod 141 #task force 141 #141 x reader #captain john price

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echantedtoon · 9 months ago

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Been tossing around ideas for this with @lavenderdrxp and I find this idea absolutely hilarious. Takes place in Kimetsu Gauken.

*You are Muzan's fiance but not by choice. It was an arrangement made by your families when you both were younger as part of a business deal.

*Despite being his 'fiance', Muzan doesn't even acknowledge your presence unless he absolutely HAS to. In fact he even legitimately forgets you even exist most of the time too busy with his plans to take over Japan. He's a pretty sorry excuse for a fiance. The only reason you haven't just called it quits yet is out of respect for your family but you're very close to not caring anymore and calling the entire thing off. It's not like he'd care.

*Despite this one day he actually does acknowledge you!... Because he wants to use you to infiltrate Kimetsu Academy to spy on his Cousin Kagaya.

*Up to this point Kagaya and Muzan hate one another only acting distantly cordial at family gatherings if even that. Despite that Kagaya has never met You. He knows his cousin was engaged but he's never met Y/n (mostly Muzan's fault for refusing to bring you anywhere EVER), so You would be the perfect spy. (Brilliant thinking am I right?)

*You reluctantly agree only on the basis that he shuts up about this entire thing he won't stop bugging you about.

*You set up a meeting with Kagaya via Muzan giving you his number and intergrade yourself into the Academy's staff as his and Amane's new secretary. Giving you access to many of the Academy's...grading papers. And student profiles and... There's nothing here that screams 'government Intel's or anything Muzan would want. It's just a normal every day school.

*He INSISTS that you keep looking around much to your annoyance.

*Kagaya and Amane know the entire time btw. Muzan isnt as clever as he thinks he's being. They knew from the moment Kagaya interviewed you for the job, but he found his cousins attempts to sabotage him quite amusing and let you stay.

*Slowly things start turning. You start to really enjoy your job at the Academy. You've already made friends with a few teachers like Kyojuro, and Kanae.

*Students start to like coming to the office more because of how bubbly and friendly the new secretary is. The teachers start to talk to you more often and invite you to staff parties and outside work events.

*Was working outside your old job really this fun? You couldn't remember the last time you actually felt appreciated or just had someone WANT to talk to you.

*As part of your 'mission' you were supposed to get as close to the Ubuyashikis as possible to learn about all their little secrets. Again they already know but they're curious about what you'll do so they allow you to (not so discreetly) come around them and speak to them often.

*Kagaya thinks it's amusing watching you shyly peek into the doorway to his office with papers clutched into your hands and bashfully asking if you could come in. The way you so innocently look unsure of something or squeak out a question. It's adorable seeing your attempts.

Amane finds your sweet and bubbly personality is perfect for the job! Especially when she sees how much you love interacting with the students and always friendly towards her own children. When you shyly ask her for help with scheduling or ask where a certain file is, always puts a smile on her face.

How could someone like Muzan be engaged to someone so sweet?

*It's Amane that finally brings up the topic. She accidentally walks in to you crying as Muzan is yelling at you over the phone calling you names before hanging up and leaving you a sobbing mess she quickly comforts. Assuring you that it'd be alright and the three of you should have a long talk.

*You're surprised that they knew, but too tired and stressed out to care allowing the couple to hug and comfort you.

*Muzan shouldn't really be surprised when one day he attempts to contact you and finds himself blocked from all your socials. He's been in contact with you this entire time so what the hell is going on?! He gets Kokushibo and a few other employees to text/call you to tell you to quickly get in contact with him. But they all either get completely ignored or blocked too. He's frustrated more and more everyday that you don't contact him.

*Until one day you unblock him to text him ONE word before reblocking his number- "Goodbye."

*Muzan is confused, offended, and mostly pissed! Goodbye?! What the hell does she mean by goodbye?! Doesn't she know who she's dealing with?!

*Not too long after he gets a text message and photo from Kagaya and Amane. Annoyed he opens the message from his cousin and his wife only for a glass shattering noise to go off in his head, and his jaw drop to the floor-

*It's a photo of You in the middle looking beautiful and happy with Amane and Kagaya on either side of you showing off a beautiful New diamond ring on your ring finger-

Amane: "Thank you for introducing us to Y/n. She's such a a lovely woman. You'll be receiving your wedding invitation soon."

Kagaya: "No bitches?"

Kagaya: "You really need to reconsider your plans better if you want to stop looking like a fool."

Kagaya: "Btw have you met our fiance? lol"

*Muzan has to get a new phone after chucking his in rage. Poor Kokushibo literally has to hold him from behind and keep him from storming into the academy and making a fool of himself.

*He doesn't attend but as a polite gesture (a.k.a Kagaya rubbing it into Muzan's face), he is sent a final message in the form of y'all's wedding invite.

Tagging: @lavenderdrxp

#demon slayer #kagaya ubuyashiki x reader #demon slayer kagaya ubuyashiki #kagaya x reader #kagaya ubuyashiki #amane ubuyashiki #Amane Ubuyashiki x Reader #muzan x reader #muzan kibutsuji

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honeyhoshi · 1 year ago

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hat trick!

the term 'hat-trick' is used to define when a player achieves the feat of scoring three goals in a single game.

summary: the first half of the championships is going to their opponents and everyone is looking to mingyu to lead the team to victory. as their star player, it’s a tall order, especially when his plate is already full with you.

this a part of the man of the match universe

genre: professional football (soccer) au, porn with a little plot

wordcount: 5,616

pairing: mingyu x afab!reader

warnings: HEAVY DDlg kink, HEAVY d/s themes, both parties are safe, sane, and consenting adults, reader is implied to be significantly smaller than mingyu, huge mingyu, big dick gyu (canon), (acknowledged???) exhibitionism, unprotected sex (pls dont do it, its not worth it), multiple sex scenes, spit kink (bec i wrote it), creampie (also bec i wrote it), mentions of masturbation, size kink go bbrrrr, bulge kink, pussy stretching, plenty dirty talk, mingyu uses soooo many nicknames (pretty, baby, princess, etc.)

author's notes: this is written for my dearest friend @madeforgyu who helped me bring forward!mingyu to life and for making his gf such a joy to write. thank you also to her for inspiring me to come back to tumblr after almost a decade.

Mingyu is pissed. He’s absolutely fucking livid.

This game had to have been fucking cooked. There was no way the ref was making all these shitty calls for him not to be paid off or something. The team had been making all the right moves but the second something seems like a foul, a whistle blows and somehow it's always someone from the Diamonds getting the blame.

Mingyu had come to four attempted goals on target and any other time was deemed offside by the refs. If he sees that fucking checkered flag go up one more time before they call for half time he’s going to really give them a reason for a red card.

Any other day he’d probably be able to brush it off after the half time break. But this isn’t any other day or any other match. It was the last match of the season — it was the Korean FA Cup final.

The 23-24 season was grueling but rewarding for the Diamonds. After the major upset at finishing as runners up in the season prior, the whole squad had come into this season with fire under their asses. The change in coaches was another thing — while their ex-manager, Mr. Cho was a hardass, their tearful promise to give him a win even after his retirement paired with Seungcheol’s no-bullshit coach style took them from 100% to 250% in the space of the off season.

Mingyu’s never been a better football player. Which is why he’s unhappy when the half time whistle does blow and they’re down 0-2.

Both teams shuffle into the tunnel to head to their locker rooms where their managers and coaching staff were waiting. Then Mingyu sees a flurry of pink shuffling through the mess of white and red kits.

“Excuse me, excuse mee, coming through please,” comes a light voice, parting the crowd.

There are a couple of chuckles and greetings coming from his teammates and even a high five and a “hey tiny!” from Hoshi before it finds its way in front of him.

It’s his girlfriend. It’s you.

Your presence at the game is no anomaly. You’re pretty much a permanent fixture, sort of like the 12th man of the team. Except you can’t play football for shit and you’re always somehow wearing the worst shoes for going on the pitch.

Everyone on the Diamonds’ side knows you — from the press, to the coaching staff, even some of the nutritionists. You’ve been with Mingyu forever. You hardly phase anyone around you when you bat your eyes at Mingyu and grab one of his hands in both of yours.

Mingyu tries to harden his glare at you, doing his best to send a look of displeasure at whatever it is you’re trying to pull.

“I’m soooorry,” you start, playfully rocking on the balls of your feet and trying to tiptoe to get closer to him.

Mingyu almost wants to roll his eyes.

The last of the team coaches enter the locker room but before the door closes, Seungcheol peeks out and meets Mingyu’s eyes. Hoshi’s head pops out next to him shortly after.

“I don’t have to tell you anything, I’m sure," Seungcheol starts, “But you’ve got 10 minutes, Gyu.”

“Tiny, I need my forward in tip top shape, alright?” comes Hoshi’s laugh.

Now Mingyu really rolls his eyes.

You can’t help the giggle that bubbles out, “Aye aye captain!”

You don’t have to be told twice when Mingyu drags you into an extra locker room and says “Skirt up, pretty.”

He makes quick work of slamming the door shut, not even bothering to lock the door. But he does flick the lights open. He wants to see. He has to see all of you.

When he turns around he clicks his tongue at you seated on one of the benches. You’re still rolling your underwear down your legs. They’re a completely useless pair. Though he admits most of your underwear is useless, either too frilly, flimsy, just there for decoration. It’s okay. He likes pretty things. No wonder he likes you so much.

“Uh-uh, doubletime princess. No time for the usual. I need to come before stepping back on that fucking pitch.”

Mingyu’s agitation from his sub par showing during the first half is bubbling under his skin. He’s been stiffening under his shorts since he saw you shuffling through the tunnel and the minute you grabbed his hands, the only thing in his head was how badly he needed to stuff you with his cock.

He grimaces at the pout on your lips as you finally untangle that stupid lacey thing from your frilly socks and platform sneakers. Mingyu grabs your wrist and drags you up against the wall that isn’t lined with lockers. He presses your front against the wall and uses his knee to spread your legs apart.

On instinct you stick out your ass, eager already despite him still being fully dressed, wiggling slightly to show him you want this too.

With quick, practiced fingers Mingyu undoes the knot of his bottoms and pushes down his compression shorts low enough to pull his cock out. He breathes a sigh of relief because finally he can flip up your skirt and see just how needy you are.

He has one large hand wrapped around his equally large cock and inspecting the view in front of him. His other hand settles on the roundness of your ass, grasping slightly to spread you open. He eyes your pink puckered hole and allows his gaze to move down to your pussy. He’s pumping himself roughly to get himself to full hardness as he eyes the slick that’s seeping between your lips. You’re almost jealous. That’s your job.

Once he’s satisfied with himself, he lets his cock rest between your cheeks, and he grasps you on both sides to squeeze. You want to cry, almost scared he’ll get off like this, just fucking the tightness of your pressed asscheeks. It’s almost quiet save for his panting and the way your slick cunt is starting to wet his cock.

So you whine loudly, that unimpressed, unsatisfied one that precedes a—

“Daddyyyyyyyy!”

Fuck there it is.

Mingyu grimaces and clicks his tongue again. No use being quiet now. Or ever, really. Everyone knows anyway.

He turns you around quickly, hoisting you up in his arms and moving to wrap your legs around his slender waist. This position has your pussy pressing up against the underside of his cock and the slight relief it gives you makes you nearly sob.

Instead you whine. You whine and start to grind sloppily as the feeling of delirium starts to course through you. It comes naturally when it comes to Mingyu. You’re addicted and so is he.

Even if your bare cunt is already pressed against him and all Mingyu has to do is angle your hips slightly to slip in, he goes the extra mile.

He supports your smaller frame with one hand and uses the other to lift a corner of his jersey to his teeth so he can bite it. He pulls it up high enough to expose his stomach and your mouth waters at the sight.

Mingyu looks good. He always looks good and he knows you like it when he’s on display for you as well. The dips and groves of his stomach, how it's still damp from the sweat from the first half, has you clenching around nothing.

He feels it against his cock and he quickly decides to quit playing around. You two probably have around 6 minutes and not a second to lose. So he flips the front of your skirt up and groans at the sight of you.

You’re soaked and coating his cock as you try to grind against him, a futile attempt to somewhat relieve yourself.

So Mingyu pulls away slightly to position the head of his cock at your entrance.

“D’you play with yourself at all, sweetheart?” He says, tapping the large head of his cock against your clit.

“Huh?” comes your confused response.

“I asked my dumb baby if she played with this little pussy?” He answers meanly.

You flush. It’s like a routine for you to stay with Mingyu the night before a game, allowing him to let off steam and go into a game day glowing and stress free while you sit on his lap in the team bus full of his cum from your morning fuck.

But the night before the cup finals had you attending a work event at the last minute because of a scheduling issue that had both you and Mingyu pissed off and horny.

You suppose that’s partly to blame for the first half that had even you swearing at the refs from your seat in his private box.

“Just a little—“

He clicks his tongue, “How many fingers d’you use?”

“Just two daddy, a-and I stopped!” you cry almost petulantly.

“Yeah, baby? Why’d you stop?”

“Because it was no good!” You bounce in his hold slightly, biting your lower lip as he continues to tease your entrance and clit. Just the head of his cock was enough to get you this wound up.

He grins. It’s brilliant and handsome and just so fucking mean because he says, “Thats right. Two of my dumb baby’s fingers are nothing on daddy’s cock,” and pushes into you.

Mingyu has always been so big and thick and you have always always been so much smaller than him, his cock always stretching a little painfully when he first slips in. But today, with such little time and even spending the night away from each other, the stretch punches the breath from your lungs.

You squeal in equal parts delight and distress and Mingyu sets a brutal pace, not even letting you settle into the feeling of him inside of you.

But you understand. You’re his good girl so you look at him with big teary eyes, bottom lip in between your teeth and nod dumbly at him. Words fail you whenever he’s inside you but it’s okay. It’s better than okay.

You two have long established how nothing nothing in this world makes you happier than when he uses you as he wants, when slips into you whenever he wants, and calls you his princess while destroying your insides.

His eyes are transfixed on where the two of you meet and you can’t help but follow his gaze. It’s absolutely lewd how you wrap around his cock, airtight, and how the sloppy noise echoes in the room.

“Look at my little pussy,” he starts, “my perfect little hole. My baby’s little cunt was made for me.”

Your cries are growing needier, louder, and more depraved. At the back of your mind you remember to worry about how tonight's the championship match and that the halls are surely bustling with press, staff, and even the opposing team. But Mingyu is fucking you so deep, so fast, that he’s literally fucking the thoughts out of your head.

You fight to stay with him in this room, in this moment, but before your eyes completely shut close, you feel his hand wrap around your throat.

“Daddy’s running out of time, baby,” he says, “so be a good girl and stay still for daddy, huh?”

You whine and nod as his hips move faster and he cages you up against the wall, your arms coming up to wrap around his head.

“Words, princess. I need words.”

You want to swear at him and thrash in his arms but you’re feeling too good, too lost in the pain and pleasure. You bite at the collar of his jersey because it's the only thing you can do to quiet the pathetic whimpers, babbling, and indecipherable cries Mingyu’s pulling from you.

Mingyu presses a kiss to your temple quickly, “My dumb baby,” he coos, “look so pretty when you’re crying on my cock. That’s my pretty baby, daddy’s almost there. Keep being good for me, m’kay?”

He speeds up his fucking, hips pistoning, and the press of his cock pressing against that spot in you that makes you see stars.

Mingyu pulls you into a kiss that’s all spit and teeth and bruising lips. He sucks on your tongue before separating the two of you and looking back down at his cock bullying its way into your pussy.

It happens before your mind can process it but at the speed of light you feel a wet, hot thwack of his spit landing on your clit harshly and you cry out, unable to keep it in.

“Daaaaddy!” It’s loud and keening and you’re sure everyone on the other side of the wall hears.

But it’s all Mingyu needs and one, two, three, brutal thrusts later, he’s spilling deep into you, fucking you through his orgasm.

Your eyes fly open as he rubs at your clit with his thumb while he pulls out and slaps at your puffy clit before he brings your face close and presses back in for a long, deep kiss.

When he pulls away and meets your eyes there’s a mean glint in them and a shit eating grin that is almost frustrating enough to bring you back to tears.

“See baby, if you’d been good, I’d have made you come.”

“B-but! I was good, daddy! I was so good for you!” He settles you back down on wobbly legs and tucks himself back into his uniform.

You’re looking at him in indignation, tears brimming at eyes, threatening to fall. Mingyu’s eyes soften as he brushes the tears away with large thumbs and tucks your hair behind your ears.

It’s a futile attempt to have you looking presentable but your smudged lip gloss and the mess at the back of your head are enough to sell you both out for your halftime activities.

“Being good means not touching what belongs to daddy when he’s not there.”

All you can do is huff. He’s right.

You’re trying to fix how your jersey (a custom pink version of the Diamonds’ home jersey) is tucked into your skirt when you catch Mingyu picking something up from the floor.

It’s your underwear.

“Gimme!” You pout, trying to reach for it. But all Mingyu has to do is raise it above his head and it’s impossible for your to retrieve the flimsy lace

“I think I’ll keep this one for now,” he starts, “Think of it as a lucky charm.”

He unrolls the flimsy fabric and folds it into a small square, tucking it into his compression shorts and tightening up the drawstring of his uniform.

“If you want to be good for daddy tonight, you’ll keep all my cum inside of you, won’t you?” He says sweetly, talking you through the idea he’s suddenly come up with, “then daddy will win this game and fuck you with my medal on.”

After trying to get both of you presentable again, you slip out of the auxiliary locker room hand in hand just two minutes over Seungcheol’s initial 10 minute deadline.

You greet the team as they all line up again to return to the pitch and smile proudly as Mingyu talks to his teammates about feeling more relaxed and ready to play. You don’t miss the way he lets go of your hand just to wrap an arm around your waist, hand resting just on the curve of your ass as you two pass the players of the opposite team.

“Good luck, daddy. Come back to me a champion, please.” You bat your eyelashes at him and press the most innocent of kisses to his cheek.

The sweet moment is interrupted by an exuberant, “OKAY! LET’S GO!” from Hoshi.

You roll your eyes at him playfully but give in when he asks for a fist bump and says, “Tiny, thank you as always for your invaluable contribution to the Diamonds.”

You head off to where Hoshi’s girlfriend is seated, opting to be surrounded by friends and fans alike, but not before hearing the two teammates’ exchange.

“You ready to show them up, rockstar?” Is Hoshi’s jest.

Mingyu can only laugh and say, “Fuck you.”

And show them up he does. Just 6 minutes back on the pitch and Mingyu reminds everyone why he’s one of South Korea’s most prolific strikers. With an assist from Jeonghan Mingyu is lighting fast as he performs one of his signature moves and sends the ball flying to the top left corner of the goal.

You scream your throat hoarse as you watch him run across the pitch towards a camera, pointing and kissing the diamond crest on his chest.

Not long after that Mingyu nets a freekick from just beyond the penalty box, equalizing the game. With so much at stake and still so many minutes on the clock, you can hardly breathe easily, knowing it could still go either way. And it does.

At the 80th minute the opposition scores their third goal and you could practically feel the Diamonds’ crowd deflating, fearing a repeat of the previous year.

“They can still equalize, I’m sure of it,” you hear Hoshi’s girlfriend from beside you, “As long as Soonyoung doesn’t fuck up and your boyfriend produces another one of his miracles, we can take this to penalties.”

You groan. You hate penalties, but you know how much this match means to Mingyu and the team.

Despite the possibilities, the game has gone into injury time and the crowd around you already look like they’re ready to pack up but sticking around just in case.

The majority of the players are crowded around the opponents’ goal, desperate feet hoping to score or hoping to defend. At this point some of the opposite side’s players are just trying to kill time to secure their win.

Hoshi is yelling orders from along the Diamonds’ midfield, abandoning his goal with the confidence that his teammates will surely take another goal.

But time just about stops when the Diamonds are awarded a corner. Jeonghan looks like he’s dragging his feet about taking it, walking away to have someone else take the kick. But in a split second he turns back to kick the ball in a beautiful arch that meets none other than Mingyu’s right foot to take a third goal.

Hat trick.

Penalties are an awful cruel thing for any football fan, you think. Even after over ninety minutes a winner still isn’t decided and it falls down to each team’s five penalty takers and their goalkeepers.

Hoshi’s girlfriend is in hysterics next to you, gripping your hand like a lifeline. Mingyu had been the first to take his penalty, the ball floating almost gracefully and finding itself out of the keeper’s reach in a split second.

The score was at 4-3 with the Diamonds in the lead after Seungkwan’s attempt had found the back of the net neatly. If their opponents miss this, the championships would be theirs.

This all falls down to their captain.

Hoshi has always been so dependable and today is no exception. The very second he deflects that fifth and final attempt, cheers erupted in every direction and the final whistle is blown.

The Diamonds won the Korean FA Cup.

The players, the coaches, and press flood the pitch and white confetti erupts around you. Before you know it your seatmate has vanished. She’s running across the pitch to jump into Hoshi’s arms, kissing away the tears pouring down his face, the team captain overcome with emotion.

Jealousy flares in your chest and you try to look everywhere for Mingyu. You stand indignantly, looking all over for him when you’re reminded of gravity.

The intensity of the match and the anxiety at its uncertainty had taken your mind away from your mid-match tryst with Mingyu and from the fact that he had come so deeply inside of you that it was only now that you were standing and pacing and you could feel the thick, sticky seed moving inside of you, threatening to drip out of your hole. You didn’t even have any underwear to catch it and sop up the mess, the lace neatly folded and tucked into Mingyu’s own underwear.

You stamp your foot and a whine pathetically when you feel someone come up behind you. You quickly turn to see that, amidst the chaos, Mingyu had found you.

You’d only been away from each other for an hour but in that hour he had become a champion and that fact alone had changed him. He looked like some Greek hero with how he stood with pride painted on his face and how his handsome smirk screamed winner.

God, you needed to suck his cock.

Luckily for you, Mingyu had the same idea. With the flurry around the win and the podium and carpets still being set up, the captain, manager, and executives still giving interviews, Mingyu knows everyone will be busy and he has time to whisk you away before anyone will even notice he’s gone.

That’s how you end up in the team’s main locker room, still a bit messy from the half time huddle, kneeling in front of Mingyu’s locker and choking on his cock.

“That’s right, baby. Take it slow so you can take more daddy in your mouth,” is his sweet encouragement before he takes the bottle of champagne next to him and takes a long swig.

You’re transfixed, blinking teary eyes to clear them, just so you don’t have to look away from the sight in front of you.

Mingyu had stripped everything off, feeling like he was overheating from the match he’d just played. He sat like a king, leaning back against his locker, spreading his legs and propping one leg up on the bench. He’d popped open a bottle of champagne and pressed the mouth of the bottle to your lips, watching the alcohol overflow from your mouth and drip down your chin to your neck and down your chest.

He kisses you shortly after, tasting the Moët on your tongue and pushing you down onto your knees.

There’s no need to preface anything because in no time you’re gagging on him. It doesn’t take much to have you drooling all over him, his cock so much bigger than what you should actually have in your mouth.

“You can fuck my throat, daddy, please please please!” You gasp out as he pulls you off of him so you can take in a deep breath.

“I know baby,” he says before taking another swig of that champagne, your eyes following the way his Adam's apple bobs.

He leans down to bring the bottle to your mouth and says, “tongue out, my filthy girl.”

Your spit is thick and sticky in your mouth and you make a show of it when you follow his orders. He wraps a hand around your throat to steady you as he pours champagne into your mouth again, not caring about how much falls down the side of your mouth and dampens your jersey.

He leans back, pleased with the indulgent mess before him, and grabs at the hair at the crown of your head to pull you back down on his cock.

You’re a dream. You had been so good, so obedient at learning to take his cock over the years, and now he’s sure he’s molded himself into your throat the same way he’s made your pussy perfect for only him.

“My perfect girl’s got the most perfect mouth, huh?” He’s holding you down onto him, keeping your head in place, “The filthiest fucking mouth and its all for dad’s cock.”

The noises are disgusting. With your mouth full you can’t say anything but you’re happy just to listen to him come undone. Your spit and his pre-cum gather at the sides of your mouth but you don’t want to stop until he’s pumping his sticky cum onto your tongue.

You pull off of him to lave your tongue over his balls, sucking on one and then the other before saying, “Daddy, I think I deserve to drink your cum, right?”

Mingyu swears under his breath, somehow still not believing how lucky he got with you, your depraved mind the only one that can match his own.

He downs the rest of the champagne and moves to kiss you, sharing the drink. You gulp down what you can before going back down on him, holding down his hips as the muscles beneath your fingers jerk as he fills your mouth.

Mingyu comes in thick ropes of sticky hot cum that you almost have trouble swallowing, but daddy trained you to be a good girl, thankful for everything she gets. So you swallow every single drop, proudly showing Mingyu your empty mouth.

“Atta girl.”

You try to be on your best behavior and good for Mingyu for the rest of the evening. You’re the picture-perfect girlfriend watching and cheering proudly as he gets his gold medal and the team cheers in unison once Hoshi lifts the trophy above his head. The pictures are taken and the interviews are given but there’s only so much you can take and by the time Mingyu has you buckled up into his car, you’re feeling unnecessarily bratty.

“Baby,” Mingyu starts. You’re some fifteen minutes away from his house and he’s about to get into it now?

“Mm,” is your petulant response.

“Listen to me,” he warns.

But it almost comes as an instinct to you to retaliate, having the most fun when you two go back and forth like this.

“Don’ wanna.”

From the corner of your eye you see his jaw harden.

“Didn’t daddy fill you up, today?” He says as more of a statement.

“He did.”

“Didn’t daddy feed you his come, princess?”

You start to flush, “He did.”

“And then didn’t daddy say he was going to fuck you with his medal on if he won the championships?”

He’s pulling up to his house now and you almost let out a sigh of relief.

“He did,” you answer.

He parks and turns to you, “Then you are going to get out of this car and head up to our room and you are going to strip yourself naked.”

You’ve been waiting for this. Finally, away from any prying eyes and ears, no matter how accepting, you can finally let loose and have him every way you want him.

“Daddy will park the car and unload the stuff and when I come into the room I better see that messy pussy served up for me.”

There’s buzzing in your ears and you bite your lips.

“Of course, daddy.”

It starts with your good intentions, really.

You had asked him kindly to lay back against the pillows and the headboard promising that you were going to be real good, daddy, I promise! And that you were so proud of him, that he was so yummy on the field and of course he was going to be the winner.

You wanted to reward him, said that daddy deserves to be ridden to have your tits in his face, to be spoiled.

To be fair, it was a valiant effort on your end. Once he’d settled into bed, you squealed and threw yourself over him, chest to chest as you rubbed your bare pussy onto his cock.

You were aching to be stuffed but you know how sloppy and wet he likes your pussy to be. And through his cum from earlier today was smeared all over your cunt and thighs, you knew you could do better for him.

You pressed kisses to his chest while running your hands over the dips and divots, the hardness and softness of his chest and abs and sighed dreamily as you met his eyes through thick lashes, “I love you daddy, I’m so happy for you.”

“I love you too, baby. I’m happy I made you happy,” was his simple response.

You bit your lip at the elation that filled your chest and you pressed a quick kiss to the gold medal resting on his chest. You stood on your knees on either side of his hips and kept one hand on his stomach to steady yourself as you lined his cock with your entrance.

The delicious stretch and resistance was still there as you sank down on him, his own spend mixing with your slick, making the slide delicious.

He couldn’t keep his eyes off how your pussy split open to take all of him. The pace is slow and your whimpers of “Daddy, daddy, daddy” made his head spin.

But while slow and romantic was good, it was always just how your love making started. This was all before your thighs had grown tired and your lower back started to hurt.

Mingyu tried to talk you through it, guide your hips on how to grind just right for the head of his cock to press against that spot inside of you. Even his encouragement of you can do it, pretty, daddy’s tired is futile when you finally cry out.

“But daddyyyyy,” comes the high pitched whine, “I’M TIRED TOO. Don’t you feel bad for your baby?”

And he breaks at that.

He sits up and flips the two of you over without even pulling out and your eyes roll as the movements jostle him inside of you.

The anticipation is reaching its boiling point when lifts one leg and places it over his shoulder and pulls out of you to rest his cock on your sopping cunt.

He loves this. It’s fucking sick, but he loves to see how big he is compared to your little hole. He loves to see the head of his cock aligned with your belly button and how you clench around nothing, already missing him inside you.

Before he decides to push his cock back inside you he grasps himself by the base and rubs harshly at your entrance and clit with the engorged head of his cock. It makes you squeal as the rough stimulation shocks your system.

He had left you hanging during half time, with only just enough time for him to fill you up, and you had been too preoccupied blowing him to rub yourself to completion after the match.

But the blessed feeling of an orgasm is finally bubbling back onto the surface now that Mingyu was focusing on your pleasure.

“You’ll give me this, right, baby?” He says pulling you back to him. He wants you to be present, to know how he’s making your body tick, “Be my good girl and wet my cock, daddy wants this pussy to be dripping when he fucks it.”

You whimper in acknowledgment and he speeds up his ministrations, the stimulation getting to him as well as beads of pre-cum mix with your slick and eventually, the spray of your cum squirting out of you messily.

Your moan is music to his ears and you cry out as he pushes his cock into you, not giving you even a second of respite.

With both hands free, Mingyu positions both of your legs over his shoulders, your stupid frilly socks tickling his ears. This position is a favorite for the both of you. He loves how deep he can fuck you like this, the head of his cock kissing your cervix. And you love how when you put your hand just under your belly button, you can see and feel how his cock moves inside you.

“Fuck, look at you,” he says all too breathless, “So fucking perfect.” The sweat beading on his face falls on your temples and you want to cry — what a waste not to taste him on your tongue.

“My perfect little cocksleeve, that I made just for me, isn’t that right. Fuck.” He’s losing it and God do you want him to fall apart.

He pulls away slightly and laughs to himself a little when he sees how his medal, still around his neck, is resting on your chest, bouncing slightly as he continues to fuck into you. What a sight. And only his.

What a day it’s been for him to have woken up in this very bed alone and just another football player hoping for a dream to come true. And to end up here now, in the same bed with you calling out to him like a litany of prayers and his champion’s medal sitting between your tits, bite marks on the flesh contrasting prettily against the yellow gold.

He bites his lip and focuses on your bodies and how you can barely get the word ‘daddy’ out coherently, mumbling dadd-da-daddy-dad unintelligibly. He does you a kindness and presses a hand down where your smaller one is, and thrusts hashly, loving the way you clench around him as you finally reach a second peak. The vice grip your pussy has on his cock is enough to push him over the edge as well, spilling another load into you and your eyes flutter shut.

Mingyu doesn’t pull out of you but sets your legs down and massages the insides of your thighs because he knows you’ll complain about them tomorrow.

He slips off his medal and sets it on the bedside table next to your phones.

After arranging your bodies to be more comfortable, he presses soft kisses on your ear and into your hair, chuckling slightly as you mumble in your sleep that it tickles.

Mingyu can’t help but keep that smile even as he settles down. It feels so good to be a winner.

-`✮´- if you've come this far, thank you and it'd mean the world to get a reblog or to hear your thoughts on my first fic on here!

#frizzy fiction #seventeen smut #svt smut #mingyu smut #mingyu x reader #mingyu imagines #mingyu scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #au: man of the match

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chipistrate · 1 year ago

Note

Hate to break it to you but help wanted 2's description says you are a worker for the Pizzaplex and Gregory is a kid who can't work so

You aren’t “breaking” anything to me, I’ve read the description lmao

There’s other ways Gregory could get into such a system, especially if he’s already IN the system, GGY n all

Even then, I’m more than willing to admit that Gregory protag is an out there theory- but it has enough evidence to give me, a Gregory fan, some hope- and most importantly, it’s fun! And that’s what theorizing is all about ^^

#Chip Chatter #pre help wanted 2 #trust me mate- I’ve read the description more than a few times/lh #plus if we’re getting into the training program stuff outside of GGY- Vanessa has said that Gregory was eligible for an internship program #in her 6am dialogue- it’s possible that kids could join the program- wouldn’t be surprising for Faz Ent #or they could simply use the program to see what they want to do later in life if they decide to work at Faz Ent #while not in VR obviously- I’ve done similar small training programs when I was around Gregory’s age #I don’t think that’s what’s happening if Gregory protag is real- but it’s worth noting

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vypridae · 3 months ago

Text

my au's sun and moon after their first day/night out without the other. posting these because i have major art block and wanna post at least SOMETHING for yall BFGJHFGHKJF

(context for au below cut)

so in my au, sun and moon were originally two separate animatronics. they performed together at the theatre for a while. at some point, around the time bonnie was suddenly replaced, fazbear ent. LLC.'s profits went down. so, the company's ceo (who shant be named) provided the techs with a few ideas to save the company money, or make them more money to make up for the loss with bonnie's disappearance. one of those was scrapping sun and moon.

sun and moon were the techs' pride and joy at the time. but, with losing money (and being threatened to be replaced if they couldn't get profits up somehow), the techs decided that sun & moon's theatre performances weren't working. so, they put them in the superstar daycare instead of the theatre; a lot of adults kept being fired from the daycare and that was also losing the company money, so why not get rid of the human daycare staffing altogether? along with that, they had come to the realization that having two animatronics in one small area like this would be cause for costly monthly repairs. so, they decided to redo the attendant altogether and put both ai's in the same body. used old parts from their other bodies to build this one, so as to save money. spent a lot of time on them, since they were the tech's pride & joy, but couldn't get the transition and ai bugs smoothed out in efficient time, so they gave up. threw the attendant into the daycare and started focusing on the glamrocks and DJMM, the ones that actually made a lot of money for the company.

the art takes place that first night sun and moon come into consciousness, neither of them realizing they can speak to the other in their joint headspace, nor realizing how. this is that first day/night without the other.

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sscieloz · 2 months ago

Text

Our messy lives

band!aespa x groupie!reader

Synopsis: Aespa is now one of the most successful bands of the country. You refuse to let them go, but it’s time to move on with your life.

Warnings: lots of plot, lots of lore and a little bit of smut as alwaysss babies. band aespa. only a tiny bit of angst don’t worry it’s barely there. angsty ig.

Word count: 8.3k

Notes: I’m being very serious when i say i hated this. omg it’s so bad I might delete it and change everything.HOWEVER now I’ll eat the yummy dinner nana made me and chill under the covers. Then we’ll see.

pt.1 | pt.2 | pt.3 | pt.4

—

It was no surprise that Aespa’s success erupted quickly. After winning The Box’s contest, not only were the girls offered a contract with SM Music Ent.— the country’s #1 music company, but they’ve also been labeled as South Korea’s rising superstars. Their faces were all over stores, brands, and buildings. Fooling around after perfomances wasn’t even an option anymore, with the crowd that had started following their every step.

Aespa’s first album, Whiplash was a true hit; people loved the group’s authenticity, their enthusiastic lyrics, and self-produced songs. They embraced the girls’ journey and their desire to make music despite the outcome or the feedback. More than that: the public loved how brutally honest they were, whether it was in interviews, public appearances or through the melody that now echoed through every device in the country.

Two years and 2 albums went by, and the band’s success only grew. They won Rookie Group of the Year and have only been escalating ever since. Such success has made them cocky, as self-entitled as they were talented.

And talent was not something they lacked by any means.

“Excuse me, Aespa sunbaenim…” Karina, Minjeong, Aeri and Ningning all turn their heads at the same time to look at the tanned girl who stands awkwardly by the door. She bows extensively, with a bright smile adorning her face before adding. “I’m looking for Y/n? She told me to wait for her here.”

With kind, almond eyes and a little mole under her right eye, Saerom’s inviting nature is unmistakable. Although the girls are nearly sure they’d be able to recognize her without even looking at her, anyway.

They despise her.

“Y/n?” Minjeong is the first to ask, looking around with a frown. Her theatric movements are filled with mockery, but Saerom pays her no mind. If anything, she simply waits for her answer, as if the girls weren’t being anything but hostile to her. “Do you see her anywhere? News—”

“She went to the parking lot to take a private call.” Karina’s hand muffles Minjeong’s mouth, preventing the blonde from giving the poor girl a nasty response. “She told us to warn you about the change of plans. You should meet her there, instead.”

Saerom’s face lights up at the leader’s response, moving her arms around in awkward motions. Not having to deal with Minjeong is a relief— the blonde is so rude all the time, with her micro-aggressions hidden behind her bored expressions.

“I’ll wait for Y/n-ssi there, then.” Saerom bows to the girls, with a firm grip on the door handle. “Thank you for the message, sunbaenim.”

Ningning waits for Saerom to leave before clicking her tongue.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t rain, otherwise this poor girl will be sick.” She turns to Minjeong and to Karina, then, her tone patronizing even though she giggles. “You’re so mean, both of you.”

“I’m not mean!” Minjeong complains, caressing Giselle’s arms when the rapper hugs her from behind. “Those are private quarters. Y/n shouldn’t have sent her little plaything here.”

Ever since The Box, you and Saerom have developed a tight-knit friendship. The idol had reached out to you a few days after the festival, inviting you out for a walk in the park. You accepted the invite, thinking she’d ask for you to become her band’s fansite or something similar, but Saerom had surprised you— as always. The two of you ended up chatting for hours, and you found yourself sharing every single one of your life’s events to her: it was just so new and refreshing, to talk about yourself for once. Not mentioning Karina, Ningning, and Giselle felt strange somehow, but it was also freeing to be noticed, seen by someone like Saerom saw you. Her genuine interest left you in awe, and it rebuilt your self-esteem in ways you did not even know you needed.

Saerom understood you in more ways than one: despite your different lifestyles, you shared the same insecurities and uncertainties. Saerom, not knowing if her company would keep supporting their group or if she should just give up on the dream she worked so hard for, and yourself, who still felt lost and had no idea of what life would be like, once you were done with university.

The two of you were so different, yet so alike: you were lousy, stubborn, and defiant, while Saerom was the purest, kindest human being on earth. She inspired you to be a better person every day, and not once did she disregard your feelings or try to change your personality. If anything, the thing you loved the most was to hear her melodious laugh, whenever you made a mean, whacky comment without much further thinking. You were more than glad to have her in your life. She was an escape from your chaotic routine, someone you held close to your heart.

So it was only natural you’d answer her call, even if you were in the middle of the crowd, recording Aespa’s performance, long after her conversation with the girls.

“Hi, Y/n.” The voice on the other line sounded strained, but you’d recognize Saerom’s angelic tone regardless of the setbacks. “Are you going to take much longer to get here? It’s pouring, and I’ll have to go get ready for my group’s recording soon.”

She’s always considerate of your feelings even though you have no idea of what she’s talking about. It’s a miracle you’ve managed to understand her words alone, given your proximity to the stage. Winter’s vibrant bass solo isn’t of much help either, and you bend your body forward to protect your ears from the noise in hopes it’d help you focus more on Saerom.

Although you swear the music gets louder as soon as you take your eyes off the four girls on stage.

“Saerom unnie? What are you talking about?” You tap your right ear, but it does nothing to ease the energetic chorus of Kill it, Aespa’s latest single.

Giselle, Winter, Karina, and Ningning are currently performing their third song of their setlist, and you’ve managed to get pretty good recordings from the previous nights, so you allow yourself to redirect your focus to your friend, who awaits on the other side of the line.

“I’m waiting for you as we planned, remember? Karina sunbaenim told me you’d be in the parking lot, so I’m here. Are you at the show? It’s too noisy, I can barely hear you.” Poor Saerom is as lost as you, and the thought of her waiting for you under pouring rain is enough for your heart to shrink with unease.

“Right, of course. Can’t believe I forgot about that. I’m so sorry, Saesae. Give me 5 minutes and I’ll meet you there, ok? I’m on my way right now.”

“Sweet!”

You’re quick to collect your camera set up, hurrying to not let your friend wait any longer. The song’s nearly over anyway, but Aespa’s repertoire for the night would still linger for at least another hour— not that you minded. You were writhing with annoyance. It was hard to grasp that Karina, out of all of the girls, would act this childishly towards Saerom.

Sure, the girls have always been crystal clear regarding their feelings about the fellow idol, but you’d never imagine Karina would send your friend to wait for you alone, under pouring rain. That was typical of Minjeong— perhaps even something expected of Ning or Giselle, but you thought better of the band’s leader.

Now you had to miss nearly half of their performance, and it was all their fault.

Those girls kept testing out your nerves.

Four pairs of eyes attentively watch you make your way over the crowd. Their stares burn on your back, yet you refuse to give in. You don’t turn to get a hold of their expressions; you’ve been around long enough to know exactly how they react when something pisses them off.

Giselle, Karina, Ningning, and Minjeong don’t stare at themselves in confusion, as they normally would if something was off. They know where you’re going, and the implication was clear: you had chosen that little friend of yours over them.

Rejection was not something the girls from Aespa took lightly. You’d pay for that, both of you.

—

“Hey.” Saerom looks up to you, smiling brightly despite waiting for more than an hour.

Thankfully, she was wearing a thick jacket and sat on a bench, protected from the rain that refused to fade.

Occupying the seat next to her, you tell her sincerely, “Sorry to leave you waiting for so long.”

The umbrella you’ve gotten for her is placed on your feet, and you turn to face her completely. She looks comfortable, pretty as ever despite the weather and the shitty circumstances you had submitted her under. Saerom was a smart girl, and had probably already figured the girls told her a white lie to get rid of her presence quickly.

Despite that, your lips were sealed. You’d be caught dead before blaming Aeri, Minjeong, Karina, or Ningning, a fact they were blissfully aware. It’s why they were so confident on messing with Saerom, after all.

“They didn’t even tell you about me, did they?” Is all she asks, brushing off your apologies with a faint shrug.

Saerom brings her legs close to her chest, hugging her shoulders and staring at you attentively. A deep sigh leaves her chest after you shake your head. She thinks you’re too good for the girls. It’s an argument you’ve gone through lots of times, by now.

But you’re not. Saerom should have noticed that, by now. You’re just as rotten.

Tenderness clouds her mind, making her unable to notice any of your flaws.

It was no wonder there was only one other band the girls were friends with. Although Saerom was frequently picked on and scrutinized by the members simply for being your friend, the girls’ behavior didn’t change much when interacting with other idols. The industry was tough and demanding, of course, but they managed to fit right in.

You try to lighten up the subject, brushing Saerom’s black hair from her face. “Yeah, I’m really sorry for that. How can I make it up to you? You could sleep over, so we’ll catch up more.” Your words are sincere. Even though Fromis9’s schedule is much less demanding than Aespa’s, you’re still unable to see her as much as you wish to. The girls keep you busy 24/7, so full of tasks and demands you barely have enough time for other things. “I feel like it’s been ages since we’ve hung out.”

“It’s alright, Y/nnie.” Saerom holds you close, hugging you with a strength that reminds you once again of how strong she is, despite her small frame. “I just wanted to check in on you. How are you doing? You barely talk about yourself, and the girls make sure to have you all to themselves, as always.”

Bitterness drips from her last words, and you ignore rather easily. You love your friend, and you’re grateful to have her in your life, but she’ll always come second to Karina, Minjeong, Aeri, and Ningning. It’s the natural order of things.

Even if your relationship is a bit blurry, at the moment.

Opening up is still something hard for you, despite Saerom being nothing but a supportive, attentive friend.

“I’m okay, really.” The words come out of your mouth automatically, and you’re met with a knowing look from Saerom. “I swear! I am. The routine is kicking, of course, but I’m pushing through.”

It’s been harder to balance keeping up with the band and your studies at university, now that it was your last semester, but you were making it work. You’ve always managed to do both, somehow, so it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary.

Although you were starting to feel the exhaustion hit, now that promotion season was starting. Shootings were always done early, and you often had to stay up until late hours of the night completing the missing assignments and mandatory work your past self had pushed to be done when you were close to graduating.

Saerom knows better. She’s always been able to read you so easily. Leaning forward, she caresses your cheek with a tenderness you’ve only known through her soft, loving touches.

“I know you can handle it. You’re a tough girl.” She murmurs, so close you can’t focus on anything but her rosy lips, and the way they glisten from her signature lip gloss. “I just wish you’d tell me more of what’s going through your mind.”

Her hot breath is a warm welcome on the cold, rainy night, and you wonder if she’d taste like strawberries; her favorite fruit. Sweet Saerom, who takes such good care of you and lives her life in such a light, carefree way…

The loud ringing of your phone prevents you from finding it out. It startles both of you, and you jump in your seats. Even though you’re irritated for having the moment ruined, the two of you can’t help but laugh about how easy it is to scare Saerom.

A tired sigh leaves your chest as you show her Ningning’s name on the ID call. You deny the call, but her name shows up again within seconds, shining just as brightly as before. “It’s Ning, I—”

“… Have to go.” Saerom finishes your sentence, nodding with a bit of resentment. She gets up before you say anything else, standing out her hand so you’d do the same. “I know how impatient they are, so you shouldn’t piss them off. But you owe me one for making me wait, now. How about a date? This way we’ll have plenty of time to keep up with each other.”

She has her finger pointed out at you, but you know she’s only joking. Still, you wrap your arms around her small waist and nod, desperate to make it up to your friend.

“It’s settled, then. Text me the details?” You ask, voice muffled as you rest your face on the crook of her neck, safely protected from the cold by her thick hoodie.

“Sure, baby. We can meet up at that cafeteria you like, how about that?” Saerom suggests, running her long nails through your scalp in a soothing manner.

Silently reassuring you she wasn’t annoyed or irritated by their lack of time at the moment, as she knew you’d be upset about it later.

You don’t want to let her go, but Saerom also has a performance of her own to get ready for, and you’ve wasted too much of her time by leaving her waiting. Reluctantly, you let go of her as she nods, stepping aside so you’d walk together toward the entrance of the arena. She clings to your arm, and you wonder if she’s not uncomfortable with her skirt on such a freezing night.

It’s worth it: she looks like every bit of the princess she is, in her laid-back outfit.

“Bye, Y/n.” When the two of you reach your parting point, Saerom’s small hands cup your face just as she’d done before. Without rushing, she gives each of your cheeks a hot, longing kiss before turning away and hurrying to her group’s backstage room. “I’ll see you soon!”

“Bye, Saerom unnie!” You scream back, watching as she runs and laughs freely on the opposite end of the corridor.

Now, it was time to confront the four devilish women you were, unfortunately, so damn attracted to. With a sigh, you make your way to their room, knowing they’ll be waiting.

They’re always waiting for you, whether they admit it or not.

—

“Oh, so you do know your way back.” Minjeong’s voice is full of disappointment as you walk through the door, delicately making your way inside the room with hopes of going unnoticed. “What a shame.”

As if that has ever been a possibility.

“Where have you been, Y/n?” Ningning demands to know, looking down on you with her arms crossed in front of her chest.

Three other pairs of eyes are just as attentive to your answer, although they don’t stop changing and taking off their heavy makeup to actively do so. The girls are fuming— you’ve known them for long enough to gather said knowledge in the subtle way they spend too much time meticulously folding their clothes and walking around, all while making sure to send you hard, jugful stares.

“Where have I been?” You take a deep sigh, mirroring the maknae’s pose in hopes of calming yourself before answering. “I went to the parking lot to meet up with Saerom, because I’ve apparently told her to wait for me there.”

There’s something in Yizhuo’s tone: so sharp and patronizing, that ignites a livid fire inside your chest. She’s such a sob, acting as if you had done something so utterly wrong. Always so demanding.

The silence that follows your brief accusation is unnerving. You want to shake each of them, annoyed both for what they did to your friend, and because they made you miss their show by leaving earlier than expected.

Giselle sighs, taking off her brown extensions as she brushes you off. “No one other than the staff is allowed inside. We didn’t even kick her out, Y/n. Consider that a favor.”

Your mouth opens in shock upon hearing the bassist’s words. The worst part was that they meant every preposterous thing they say. With a frustrated sigh, you search for something to occupy your hands with so you won’t scratch the members’ eyes out from their faces like you certainly want to.

You turn your back to them, looking for something. For a distraction, anything to keep your mind off how much you wanted to make them pay for making Saerom upset.

After not finding anything in the mess they always make backstage, you turn around and shove your finger in Minjeong’s face. “You told Karina to say it, didn’t you? You lousy—”

The blonde girl opens a malicious smile, surprisingly calm and happy to have you on the verge of an anger meltdown. She shakes her head, gesturing to Karina instead.

“Oh no, Y/nnie.” Winter laughs, delighted by your nervousness. If she had to be honest, you did look hot like this: brows furrowed and muscles all tensed up. Minejong licks her lips, imagining how delicious it would be to drink from your cunt until you were sobbing, begging for a release that wouldn’t come anytime soon. “Karina unnie took care of it all by herself.”

Surely you’d forget about your little friend, by then.

Karina rolls her eyes when you finally approach her, muttering about how much of a drama queen both you and Minjeong are. She has her legs hanging comfortably on top of the desk and pays you no mind, too busy with watching something on her stupid phone.

“Did you?” You ask, not yet daring to grab her phone and throw it against the wall like you so desperately wanted to. Even if anger clouded your mind, you know Jimin wouldn’t let that slide. “The poor girl was out there freezing to death, Jimin. Why the fuck did you tell her—”

“You’re lacking.” Is all that she tells you, still not looking up. “You left in the middle of our show to go look for your little friend.”

Ningning comes out of the bathroom, attentive to the tension that hasn’t left the room ever since you arrived. “You’ve skipped so many events lately. And you’re barely taking any solo pics of any of us.” She points it out, earning a nod from Giselle.

“Recording us is one of the few things you’re able to do properly,” Minjeong adds, twisting her tongue. “And now your useless self isn’t even doing that anymore. God, you piss me off, Y/n.”

Saerom’s mention always brings out the worst of the girls, but Winter is the most affected by the fact that your attention is not solely on them anymore.

Giselle, Ningning, Karina, and Minejong are greedy, selfish, so damn full of themselves. But most importantly, they refuse to share. Especially when it came to you. It doesn’t matter how much you fight or argue, things worked simply: you were theirs just as much as they were yours.

And the Aespa girls didn’t allow outsiders to play with their possessions. No matter how foolishly you might think so, the implication is clear— in the end, you’d always answer to them.

“You have managers to handle your career.” You remind them, sighing deeply. “As well as other groupies to do all of your media work. I’m not paid to be your photographer or whatever. Actually!” Hitting your palms on the big table the girls were sitting around comfortably, you add. “I’m not being fucking paid at all. I’m under no obligation to indulge your demands.”

The last sentence seems to hurt the band’s maknae. Ningning presses a hand to her heart, terrified at the possibility of you not indulging their every will anymore.

“This fucking girl, Y/n. Saerom.” Yizuho’s pronounces her name as if it’s a plague. “S-She’s clouded your mind. What else has she told you? She’s such a fucking liar.”

“No, Ningie.” Minjeong corrects her friend, patting Ningning’s hair affectionately. Although her eyes are solely on you, as poisonous as the vicious smile lingering on her face. “Saerom is just a useless piece of sh—”

Minjeong has sharp reflexes. Before you even think of a reaction, Giselle’s grip prevents you from moving, somehow making you even angrier with her hot, minty breath on the back of her neck.

“She cares about me! Unlike you! You fuck ass selfish whores.” You scream, kicking and pushing yourself against Aeri to let you go. It’s useless, but at least her muscles tense up with the effort.

Karina frowns at the words you shout so vividly. At first, she didn’t think much of your friendship with the girl from that small group— what was its name again? Forms? Formis? It doesn’t matter. But then, you started to spend more time on your phone, which was something you never did whenever they were in your company. You missed a few of their rehearsals, and would sometimes show up late or leave earlier because of university, as you claimed.

Which was bullshit. You’ve never let anything come in the way of being with the band before, even when they were just four broke girls with nothing but their love for music. There was no justification for you to do so now.

Your new rebellious behavior certainly had to do with this girl, Saerom, and her bad influence. She’s certainly corrupting you, filling your pretty little head with sweet words and blunt lies.

Karina would end her before letting such a thing happen.

With a subtle touch, the leader signals to Giselle to let you go. The Japanese girl promptly does so: it’s been a few minutes, and your muscles were too fatigued to keep fighting her grip. Although her big hands stay locked on your hips, making sure you’re trapped in her lap.

Not that you mind.

“Saerom is a bad influence to you,” Karina says, after a few minutes of watching your chest’s rapid movements, as you try to gather your breaths. She’s pleased to notice you’re still wearing the golden necklace she gave you, with an A shining in bright gold. “You should just stop seeing her altogether.”

An exasperated sigh leaves your lips, and you don’t even fight the urge to laugh at Karina’s demands. “Do you hear how insane you sound?” You only realize they’re all serious when no one joins you in the laughter. “Oh my fucking God. Saerom is the only sane person here! I won’t stop being friends with her just because you fucking want me to.”

“Brat,” Minjeong mutters, narrowing her eyes at you. You’re ready to start screaming once again, but Karina beats you to it.

The leader taps on the table rather impatiently, voice low and husky. “She has to go, Y/n. Minjeong’s right. Stop giving us such a headache and do as you’re told.”

It’s absolutely infuriating, how full of themselves the girls are. How can Karina, Minjeong, Giselle, and Ningning demand anything from you after so many years of blind dedication? You don’t owe them anything, yet they treat you like a rebellious child.

They’ve always driven you mad. Being in the girls’ presence meant you were always blushing and acting like an impulsive idiot with as much a subtle glance thrown at you. You’d do anything for it, without asking anything back. For them.

But as you stare at the four girls, the only thing you feel is an anger that settles deep inside your bones. It makes you want to flip the big table they’re sitting around and throw everything they own on the walls.

“I’ve sacrificed so many important events over the past years just to be by your fucking side,” You tell the four pairs of eyes that watch you, brushing your hands on your face. The night had been tiring, and your adrenaline hush was finally fading. “I had to reschedule my wisdom tooth removal three times to attend your shootings and music bank stages. I’ve missed family gatherings and birthdays to be with you. I’m fucking graduating next month, a semester later than expected. My parents are so fucking pissed because of that. Did any of you even know?” The silence is enough of an answer. Not that you even had to ask. “Of course you don’t. You don’t fucking care about anything but yourselves.”

You’ve abdicated so much just to pay Karina, Minjeong, Aeri, and Giselle your endless support. It doesn’t matter if they disagree with your current decisions, you’re under no obligation to follow their expectations nor do everything they wanted you to.

But it seems they’ve become forgetful of that.

“Let me go, Aeri.” You tell the girl, squirming on her lap. When her hands don’t move, you scream. “I said let me go!”

You’re angry at them. For being such possessive assholes. For taking so much while giving so little. For so many things you don’t even know how to express properly.

None of the four girls say anything as you leave. Not even after you brush past them and close the door with a loud noise.

They hate to be wrong, all of them. So they hold onto their pride for a little longer. Surely you’d come back for them soon. You couldn’t stand being apart for too long, they were sure of it.

—

Being bossy is one of your many traits. You’ve always been spoiled rotten: being the only girl born in three generations into a family who loved and supported you in all of your choices ensured you that, even if you were met with some resistance at first, it didn’t take much convincing for all of your wishes to be granted. You’d only have to battle your lashes and shed a few tears and it was yours, no matter how stupid it was.

It’s only natural you’d live up to your stubbornness.

Sure, you still attended the band’s events, recording and providing content as you’ve always done, but things were somehow different, now: it was as though there was a thick wall separating you. The warmth you shared with Karina, Minjeong, Giselle, and Ningning was long gone. You weren’t any different from their other staff, with the short, straightforward answers you’d give to their questions, and they despised it. They wanted your loud, fiery self back. Guilt was eating the girls alive.

So they silently decide that just this time, you’d win.

This time only.

The band’s schedule for the month was packed, but Giselle had managed to cancel a few events so you could finally talk. The Japanese girl isn’t as patient as Karina or adorable as Ningning, but knows you well enough to get your head in the right senses.

When Aeri opens the door to your favorite cafe— the one furthest from your main campus, although still on university grounds, the last thing she expects is for you to have company.

She should’ve thought better. Of course you’d have that nugu failure of an idol up in your ass. It’s like the two of you are joined at the hip now.

Giselle’s entire body feels hot, and she’s absolutely fuming. No matter how many deep breaths she takes, nothing makes her less livid as she watches you lean onto Saerom’s touch, laughing so freely with shimmery eyes directed at that useless girl.

This cafe was something like a sanctuary to you. There was something peaceful in the lo-fi beats that echoed through the place, and you’ve lost count of the times you spent hours lost in thought, wondering about the customers' backstories and their orders. You were a regular, and Giselle recalls picking you up nearby a few times.

You look so at ease, eyes shining brightly as you laugh with Saerom. The sight of you, so carefree and happy with someone that isn’t her, Karina, Minejong or Ning is enough for Giselle’s chest to tighten, hands closing onto fists. Her hatred for Fromis’ leader only grows. She hates how this girl can make you feel so at ease, hates how she takes up so much of your time.

Aespa has grown, now— in both popularity and influence. They’re famous and even though they aren’t yet rich, they have much more money than necessary. Saerom’s nothing compared to them. Not as beautiful, not as talented, and certainly not as successful. She’s nothing more than a failure, a pathetic girl from a small company who doesn’t give a shit about her group.

So what did she do to have your uttermost attention? Why do you look at her with such adoration, such love? It’s nearly the same way you look at herself, Karina, Winter, and Ningning.

And that can’t happen. You’re theirs; their groupie, their first, most dedicated fan. They’ll be dammed before they have to share you with anyone else.

Saerom pales as soon as she spots Giselle’s confident steps, and she opens her mouth to warn you. The words die on her lips as the fellow idol beats her to it; Before they can even think, Giselle’s in front of you, bracing her arms in front of her chest with a displeased look.

“Look at who we have here.” She twists her mouth in disgust, eyes darting from you to Saerom, who retreats her arm from your chair and goes rigid. “The lovebirds. For someone who claims to be so busy, you sure have a lot of fucking free time for Saerom, don’t you think, Y/n?”

Unlike the poor idol, who trembles under Giselle’s snobbish gaze and seems ready to leave at any cue, you roll your eyes at the guitarist. She doesn’t intimidate you at all, not with the way her hands rest tightly on her hips or with this little angry pout in her mouth.

Giselle’ attractive, even more so when she’s being an asshole. Still, her self-entitlement pisses you off more than anything. She thinks she can control you; who you hang out with, and what you do.

Ignoring her pettiness, you gesture to your laptop, to the small journal, and to your camera, all tangled on the table. “I’m studying. Saerom unnie came to help me choose a few clips for my final project.” You click your tongue, typing your password on your laptop so the screen would light up. It takes a few seconds, making it obvious it has been a while since you’ve turned the device on. “It’s due tomorrow, so… you’re kinda interrupting us, unnie. Mind coming back later? We can talk on Friday, after your MBC schedule.”

You do love to rile the girls up, and Giselle falls into your traps quite easily. The only other person that beats her to it is Minjeong— the blonde nightmare.

Giselle’s fist hits the table, not aggressively enough for your stuff to fall but more than necessary to get the attention she wants, despite not you or Saerom attention’s wavering from the girl ever since she set foot in the cafe. She grabs you by the arm, then, still locking eyes with your best friend as you’re lifted from the table.

“Me and Y/n are going to have a little talk, ok sunbaenim? We’ll take long, so I suggest you make your way back.” Giselle says, eyes turning darker, “Now.”

Saerom doesn’t need to be told twice. Without a word, your friend grabs her purse and stands up so quickly her chair clicks against the marble floor. She hesitates, searching for any signs you need her to stay. Giselle’s intimidating, of course, but Saerom would defend you if asked.

“See you later, Y/n.” Saerom murmurs, relaxing her brows after you nod, gesturing for her to go. She gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze, and you think she’s going to lean in and kiss you on the cheek. But Giselle’s grip on your arm is still strong, clinging onto you like you were going to run away at any second. Instead, Saerom nods to both you and Aeri. “Goodbye, Giselle sunbaenim. Have a great afternoon.”

Giselle doesn’t answer, watching as Saerom runs to the door like she’s been struck by lightning.

“You didn’t even let her breathe. Hey!” You complain, being ushered to the restroom as soon as the doorbell rings and the fellow idol is nowhere in sight. “Rude.”

A chuckle dies in your throat as soon as you’re shoved into one of the stalls rather roughly. Giselle’s hands are all over you, then: groping your breasts, your waist, your neck, and your face as she kisses you sloppily. Her fingers roam through your skin with perhaps too much pressure, so hungry and impatient.

Like her bandmates, Giselle only knows how to take. It’s one of the many things she excels on doing. Her touch is possessive and infuriating. Intoxicating.

Deliciously wrong.

“Do you think this is a fucking joke, Y/n?” She asks, gripping your jaw as she whispers in your ear. “Do you seriously think I won’t fuck up your little friend’s entire career if you piss me off with those little games of yours?”

“I’m not doing anything.” You squirm, trying to get out of her grip. The affirmation does nothing to ease her touches— she’s well aware you love playing dumb. “If you mess with Fromis’ image just because I’m friends with Saerom, Giselle, I swear I’ll post that fucking video of you—“

She silences you with another rough kiss, sick of hearing you being so protective of that pathetic girl. Her tongue forces her way onto your mouth, commanding you to open and surrender to all of her wishes as usual.

In a swift motion, Giselle turns you around, pressing your face against the cold walls. You feel her body heat behind you, skin nearly throbbing from how angry she is.

“Say her name one more time, Y/n and I fucking will.” She growls, locking your wrists together so you’re unable to turn around and curse her out to her face. “Test me. Say it, now. It will be my pleasure. Our pleasure. To end her fucking career forever and have you as the one to blame.”

None of her threats are empty— you know she means it. Giselle’s only waiting for a cue, a reason to spread fake rumors and end Saerom’s career once and for all. The laughter that echoes inside the empty restroom is full of mockery, and you wish for nothing more but to turn around and land a punch to the guitarist’s face.

Only you can’t. Not with the way she’s pressing onto you, showing off her mornings spent at the gym. Giselle’s low, husky breaths pant on the back of your shoulders, and you shudder involuntarily. There’s no way to help it: it’s been so long since she’s touched you like this. You’re both starved, desperate even if you’ll never admit it.

Although it’s easy to notice, from the way her heavy hands grope and twist every inch of skin she finds. You’re easily marked— the girls have always praised you for that. But their marks usually faded as easily as they were made.

Which doesn’t seem like the case, not when she’s biting your lips so harshly. Giselle doesn’t care if she hurts you. It’s what you deserve, after taunting them for so long.

“Fuck, Y/n…” She murmurs, squeezing your breast with her hand. The other one closes around your neck, depriving you of just enough air to make you dizzy. You roll your eyes, panting with pleasure. “You’re so pretty… I can’t wait to make you cry.”

Not at all subtle. Giselle’s message is clear: no one fucks you like I do. Like we do.

Her nails scratch your thighs, wandering dangerously close to your aching spot. You’re both ashamed and annoyed by how much her aggressiveness turns you on. Every word the Japanese girl utters from her mouth is true, you know so: her assertive, possessive traits would never fade, no matter how extreme you judged her actions, sometimes. It’s disgraceful to acknowledge that you want Giselle to ruin you, to make you cry and beg for her to take everything she wishes to and more.

Still, you’re not lost enough to step on your pride just yet.

“Get the fuck away from me!” You turn your face as Giselle pulls your head back and reaches for your lips, trying to push her away after being tugged and turned around like a doll. “Self-entitled bitch. I fucking ha—”

It’s much easier to rebel under her like this: with her taking you from behind, her face is hidden by the stall’s poor lightning.

“So you’re not wet, then?” She interrupts your angry banter, smirking as her hands trail lower, unbuttoning your shorts without much care. Her touch, however, is surprisingly soft, thumbs tracing circles on the inside of your thighs. You gulp, trying your best to not let out a moan when she presses her knee against your cunt, pulsating and starved for attention. “You want me to go away, Y/n? It sure doesn’t look like it.”

Giselle’s fingers brush your clit through your panties, tracing circles over your hardened bud as if the two of you have all the time in the world. She laughs when you bite your lip so hard it trails a thin amount of blood, tasting the metallic taste as she drinks from you.

“You’re a j-jerk.”

It’s hard to concentrate when Giselle’s absolutely everywhere; she holds your shirt up, laughing to herself once she’s graced with your bare tits, no bra in sight. She pinches and twists your nipples until they’re red and overly sensible, teeth scratching against your neck before she sinks her teeth, sucking until she’s sure it’ll bruise properly.

Content with your hard time on staying collected, she hums. “Tell me more.”

For someone with such a dirty mouth, she sure knows how to work it. Giselle’s fingers tease your wet cunt, barely applying any pressure on your entrance before retreating completely, as she makes good use of your slick to circle your clit.

Her teasing is unexpected; you moan loudly at her touch, desperately pressing yourself onto Giselle so she’ll give you more.

A cocky smirk appears on her lips at your silent plead. For that, you’re rewarded with more pressure against your throbbing clit. Her strokes become quicker, and the knot in your stomach tightens.

“Will you ask for it? Like a good girl?” She asks quietly, pressing wet kisses against your throat.

Her tone is so innocent and caring, as if she’s not fucking you in a cafe’s restroom, clouding your mind with lust for all the wrong reasons.

You don’t give in, although your head falls back as you lean onto her frame, making it easier for Giselle to mark you as she pleases. “Fuck you.”

Giselle laughs. Her fingers leave your cunt, and she’s tapping your mouth before you can even complain about the absence of her touches. “Open.”

Instead of an eager response, the guitarist’s fingers are met with pouty lips, promptly sealed shut. She’s big on the patience game, but your previous encounter with Saerom has clearly affected her: Giselle’s pupils are blown, and her nails scratch every inch she’s able to reach— close to your breasts, on your lower lip, your shoulders, the inside of your thighs… her marks are everywhere. Claiming, owning you. Setting a reminder of who you belong to.

Giselle rolls her eyes at your resistance, tightening her grip on your neck. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s enough for your breaths to quicken, feeling lightweight once again. She fastens her strokes on your clit, pressing harsher once you don’t do as told.

“You’re so fucking stubborn. Open. Your. Damn. Mouth.” Both of her hands rest on your hips, with a steady grip that makes you whine in frustration.

There aren’t any coherent thoughts in your mind. The only thing you crave is her touch, and for her to not stop until the warmth that is building up on your lower abdomen explodes into a delicious wave of pleasure, like the orgasms she knows so well how to take from you.

“Aeri…” Your voice is barely a murmur, as you rest your forehead on the crook of her neck and plant small, wet kisses to the corner of her mouth, in attempts of coaxing her into giving in.

But you know she’s not going to until you obey. The way your clit pulsates under Giselle’s hand is both delicious and frustrating. It makes your skin boil, so agonizingly hot you open your mouth, swallowing your pride when she pushes 2 of her fingers down your throat.

“That’s it.” Giselle’s praise send a joint of pleasure straight to your cunt, humming in pleasure as you stare at her with big, teary eyes while sucking on her fingers. It burns on your pride, but lust has long clouded your thoughts. “It’s all for you, sweet girl. You just have to stop fighting it. Stop testing us.”

Damn her, for knowing your body so well.

Giselle’s hand leaves your mouth to slide her fingers inside your dripping cunt. You’d be embarrassed by the sounds her thrusts make, gushing so easily from how drenched you are, but you don’t have it inside to care about that anymore. It’s music to her ears. She’s even more cocky know that she’s sure you can’t resist her, despite being so cold and distant over the past weeks.

“Oh fuck, D-don’t stop.” You moan loudly, lost in the pleasure she’s granting you. Once again, you’re glad she’s taking you from behind; this way you don’t have to look at her face. It’s a great excuse, you tell yourself as she shoves her fingers inside your cunt so fast your vision is clouded by black dots.

Despite your inner thoughts, her smirk burns on your back, and she hums contently while pressing small, wet kisses on your back. “Why not? Are you going to cum?”

You don’t have enough strength to return her provocative banter, too lost in pleasure. Whimpering loudly, you nod, rocking against her hand so you’d get even more friction.

Giselle gets the message, curling her fingers deep in your walls as she watches you closely, hitting all of your sweetest spots. You let out another loud moan, lost in the pleasure she’s granting you.

“Do it, Y/n. Just let go.” She commands, watching you closely. “Cum whenever you want. Just like that, pretty. All over my hands, do it.”

You don’t expect her bossy tone to affect you this much, but it does. At the sound of her voice, you reach your peak, making a mess of the girl’s hand as you grab her hand to prevent her from stimulating you any further. Giselle keeps on fingering you, barely moving her fingers while she waits for you to come down from your high.

You take your time rinding down your orgasm, taking deep breaths as you feel tears cripple down your eyes. You’ll have to deal with Giselle the moment you’ve recovered completely, so you avoid it for as long as possible. The girls’ issue with Saerom has always annoyed you, along with the way they disregard your decisions.

Now that you’re ending a cycle in your life, with graduation just around the corner, you can’t help but acknowledge the fact that it’s time to focus on serious things, like focusing on your professional career instead of following the Aespa girls blindly like you’re used to. You have to set boundaries for yourself and move on.

Except you can’t, and it’s eating you alive.

Giselle locks you into place, preventing you from running like you so desperately want to. You adjust your clothes in silence, trying not to be extremely uncomfortable under her piercing stare. Somehow, you feel even more vulnerable than moments ago, when you were moaning and writhing under the girl’s touches.

They’ve always managed to do that to you— drive you crazy while trying to guess what was going on through their heads. Only you didn’t have the time or energy for that anymore.

And she’s so affectionate— they all are, ever since you met them. It wasn’t uncommon for Karina, Minjeong, Giselle or Ningning’s hands to be caught wandering through your spine, or for them to be ogling your tits whenever you were in the tightest crop tops just to be noticed in their shows.

They found you annoying, pushy even. But you don’t mind. Not as long as they keep seeking your touches and demanding your attention.

Then, there’s Giselle, whose mouth would always wander in places she wasn’t supposed to, be it with a brush of her lips on your ears as she claimed the music was too loud for you to hear her, or the knee that somehow was always pressing onto your cunt, whenever you sat on her lap during guitar lessons.

Possessive but soft. Suffocating, yet still caring and attentive. That’s how she was, how the four girls were. You hated how much they were made for you. How addicting their touches were, and how weak you are for them. It no good, and you shouldn’t, but you’d do anything to have them.

“You’re mistaken if you think we’re going to let you, Y/n. Not after all those years.” She tells you, with a serious face as she gives your waist a tight squeeze. “You’re bounded to us by now. So you can forget that Saerom girl. We’re bigger than her in the industry, and I fucking swear we’re going to ruin her and her group’s life for touching what’s ours. Do you understand?”

Her final words seem to snap you out of your high. You roll your eyes, pushing her out of the stall as you rush out of the restroom, gathering your stuff in record time. You fail to see the guitarist running after you as you leave the cozy café, which is a relief.

All you want at the moment is some peace.

Although it was rather clear that luck wasn’t on your side. While you were with Aeri, it had started pouring, the wind ricocheting droplets of water like small needles crippling on your skin. You curse your past self, who had dressed for a warm day, walking even faster when a loud honk prevents you from cursing any further.

You turn around to see Giselle’s Honda Type R following your steps. She’s watching you closely, with her windows rolled over and one hand on the wheel.

“Don’t be too stubborn,” Giselle tells you. Your teeth are clenched and you shiver under your clothes. Her attentive eyes follow your every move, well aware you’re cold; you’ve always been sensitive, after all.

It’s thundering, you don’t have an umbrella and most important— you’re many things, but stupid isn’t one of them. With a deep sigh, you open the passenger’s seat, sinking into the seat while refusing to pay her as much as a quick look.

The trip to your house is silent. None of you speak, even though Giselle clearly wants to. Her knuckles turn white from the amount of strength she places on the wheel, and it’s her turn to pout, shaking her head in disapproval. Truthfully, the girls know you’re right: they don’t own you.

They’ve grown spoiled to having your full adoration for so long they forgot it was a privilege rather than a demand. It’s something they reflected about, after you abandoned them backstage on their comeback show. About how little they actually knew about you, and how little effort they put into trying to.

Sure, you were aggressive, stubborn and undeniably irritating, but Karina, Giselle, Minjeong and Winter have always corresponded your actions with twice as much fire, no matter how much they complained. They craved it, craved you.

Despite the deadly silence, you arrive home rather quickly. Not a word was exchanged during the trip— Giselle wouldn’t dare apologize, and you’re nearly sure you’d run her over with that fancy car of hers if she tried to provoke you. You close the Honda’s door so loudly the entire car roars. Still, you don’t mind. More than that: you don’t even pay her a glance, playing into her games a little too much. It’s a simple one: if you look back, you lose. And you’d never lose.

So she watches you go, wondering why the distance you’ve placed between you bothers her so much.

#s.writes #sol.writes #aespa angst #aespa smut #aespa imagines #aespa giselle smut #aespa giselle x reader #aeri uchinaga x reader #aeri uchinaga smut #kim minjeong x reader #karina x fem reader #karina x reader #ning yizhuo x reader #ningning x reader #band.au

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