#likes wearing dresses but looks good in everything
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DOMESTIC MOMENTS with sevika ✶ sevika x female reader -> just fluff and happy christmas everyone !
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waiting for her to come home, it's late and cold- she walks in and quiet as she thinks you're asleep " hi sev " you said softly from the couch and she turns around with an frown.
" I tought you were asleep honey " she said and walked over to the couch, pulling your legs to her lap caressing them soflty.
" I wanted to wait for you " you said resting your head on your hand. " I can't sleep well without you anyways " you smiled soflty and so did she . She could see the tired look in your face and how you were about to dooze off.
She was tired herself but she got up and scooped you in her big arms, lifting you without a struggle. " let's get you to bed now , I'm here " she said and walked to your room , gently putting you on the bed and pulling the covers on top of you.
" want me to give you a massage ? You look like you need one " you said making yourself comfortable under the bed, watching her change to some more comfortable clothes and take off her heavy boots.
" you look like you'd fall asleep on top of me- its okay doll thankyou anyway " she said with an chukle watching your eyes threatening to close for once.
she took off her ponytail and got into the bed, immediately pulling you close to her body and you happily let her, feeling the warmth that came from her body.
" I love you " you whispered into the comfortable silence, and she tightened her grip you. "I love you too sweet thing"
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" you know what we should do ? " jinx's voice loud and a little to annoying for sevika.
" what ? " you asked from your spot on the couch, jinx laying upside-down with her head on the end of the couch and legs on the top.
" we should totally cook something ! I'm starving and so is Isha " she said and little Isha nodded agreeing .
" last time you were in my kitchen you nearly exploded it all off " sevika groaned and you chuckled patting her thigh.
" well she was alone- I'm sure us four could do something eatable " you said and winked at jinx who squealed and jumped off the couch heading to the kitchen, Isha running after her.
" she's going to burn our house " sevika said and you kissed her cheek , wiping the lipstick off her. " if we keep an eye on her she won't- cmon " you said and got up, grabbing her arm and pulling her off the couch- her rolling her eyes with an huff.
As you two walked into the kitchen jinx already had eggs, milk, butter and other ingredients you didn't remember you had . " oh slow down- maybe don't empty our fridge yes ? " sevika said looking around the mess.
" jinx- what are you making ? " you asked and she turned around with her hands up.
" pancakes duh ? - Isha requested " jinx said and Isha smiled.
" do you know ... how to do it ? " you asked and sat down on the kitchen table- sevika following you and Isha immediately runned to her, getting lifted by her arm
" of course ! can't be that hard " she said and you nodded . cut to everything getting done and surprisingly it was good- not great but- definitely eatable.
" see ? I'm a professional " jinx said and you feed sevika a bite, watching her eyebrowns go up in surprise.
" right- don't feed her ego tho " sevika mumbled to you and you laughed.
˖ ࣪⭑
" here " sevika said watching you get ready, handing you a box simply decorated but with love, your name written with a heart in the end- that had to be jinx's work. you turned to her with an smile .
" it's not midnight yet " you said and grabbed it from her hands. " I know- but ... I wanted you to wear it while we're having dinner and-.... I already told you what it is " she sighed and shaked her head.
" oh sev its alright- " you said and opened the box, revealing a long dark brown dress- you look at her and at her dark brown bottom up shirt. isn't she adorable.
" it's beautiful... you just wanted to match huh ? " you smirked and took the dress out of the box.
" It was jinx's idea... but she made a good point " she said and watched you get undressed .
" and what it was ? " you asked putting the dress on
" we are a couple- you're the women of my life and she said couples to this- match and all " she said wanting to sound like she didn't put much thought to it when all that was going on in her head was if you really like the dress and the meaning behind it.
" that we are ... " you smiled and adjusted the dress. " can you help me with the - " you didn't have to finish- her hands were already on your back, lifting the zipper up and giving your shoulders a squeeze.
" thankyou- I love it - we look beautiful " you said looking at the two of you trough the mirror and sevika smiled, pressing her chin on your head and wrapping her arms around your waist.
" we sure do " she said and kissed the top of your head.
" you're gonna have to wait until midnight for yours " you said and she turned you to her. " that's no problem angel " she said and kissed you reaching her hand to cup your cheek and pull you closer-
" I guess I'm a brilliant advisor " jinx's voice stopped your moment and she laughed- making sevika groan.
" you are now shoo- go see whats Isha up to " you laughed and kissed sevika back -
#lesbian#sevika x reader#sevika x female reader#sevika arcane#jinx x reader#arcane x reader#sevika x you#caitlyn kiramman x reader#vi reader
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decentering men and recentering urself⋆.ೃ࿔*:・💅🏽💓
the secret to decentering men and not having ur entire world revolving around them (bcuz it should be revolving around you, duh) is having a fulfilling life. it makes me ICK so bad when im watching a video or reading a post and im rly loving it, and then it'll find SOME way to make it revolve around men. like can we not?…💬🎀
WHY WE CENTER THE OPPOSITE SEX ;
a lot of people find themselves centering their lives around the opposite sex in an attempt to fill a void within themselves. they do it because they aren't happy with themselves or their lives, or maybe its learned behavior. whatever the reason is, its NOT hot.
some things that someone who centers men might think are "oh my life is so boring, maybe it would be spiced up if i got with a man" or "maybe it'll bring some excitement into my day" like EUGHHH. obviously the solution is to find ways to make our lives fulfilling but how do we do that? and how do we get to the root cause and squash this self sabotaging behavior?
SELF AWARENESS ;
if u have nothing going on for u, ofc ur gonna be energetically desperate and accepting anything and EVERYTHING. practice self awareness and try to get to the root cause of why u center men through things like shadow work, therapy, or just straight up having an honest conversation with urself cuz i swear it helps.
when you make the conscious effort to build ur dream life you'll notice that people that are on the same mindset as you will vibe with the REAL you. the need to fake/adjust urself to fit in with other people will dissipate because ur fitting into ur own standards and ur connections will be more meaningful because of it.
TAKE UR POWER BACK ;
no ones actions should ruin ur day or make u upset for more then a day (even less) cuz its YOUR world. 💕🍰
make time for YOU, doll. plan self care routines for urself every week. doing face masks, journalling, vision boarding, WHATEVER U LIKE TO DO. making time for urself reminds u that ur the main character of ur life so u dont have to settle for crumbs.
stop giving that power to someone else and dictate how u feel, NOT the actions of a significant other or the opposite sex or anybody. the reason why its important to make sure that ur the center of ur own life is so that you can be happy and fulfilled regardless of if there is a man or if there isnt a man present. so the objective is to decenter men -> and then put yourself at the center
GET A HOBBY ;
find something to make ur life fulfilling. pursue ur OWN interests and try out different hobbies if ur unsure of what ur interests are yet. cultivate ur world to the point where it GLEAMS with perfection and then do a little extra. build a life that u love so much that whether u get male attention or validation doesnt even matter cuz their opinions have little to no relevance 💀
challenge yourself: next time you catch yourself thinking, ‘would a guy like this?’ flip it and ask urself "hey, do i like this?" start checking with yourself first instead of checking with others.
MAKING THE DECISION TO DECENTER MEN ;
decentering men simply means that ur deciding to no longer think, feel, act, dress, or plan ur life around a man or for the validation of any man…💬🎀
relationships will actually get BETTER when u decenter the opposite sex. cuz ur not looking for someone to compete with and ur whole on ur own. this sets the stage for balance and mutual respect and THATS hot.
you can be in a relationship and still decenter men. decentering men simply means that you are the priority, not the relationship. how can we tell if we're decentering men or not? here are a few questions to help you know if u are ->
if i did not care about looking good to the opposite sex what would i actually like to wear?
if i did not get married, how could i create the best and most abundant life for myself?
what hobbies/interests do i have that dont involve being around men/have male attention as a component of it?
#honeytonedhottie⭐️#it girl#becoming that girl#that girl#it girl energy#self care#self love#dream girl tips#dream girl#dream life#hyper femininity#hyper feminine#hyperfemininity#girly#girl blog#girl blogging#self improvement#self reflection#food for thought#centering yourself#self obsession#fabulous#fabulousity#glamorous#pampered princess#doll#dolling
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THE FAT MAN IN THE RED - LN4
summary : Lando Norris promised two hours of his night to wave to little ballerinas and have them whisper their wishes to him in a Santa costume. His night starts looking up when a woman his age lands on his lap.
listen up : no warnings tbh! suggestive jokes SORRY ITS SO SHORT I WAS GONNA WRITE A LOT BUT ITS ALREADY CHRISTMAS TO HAVE THIS
words : 692
⋆。‧˚⋆
“Oh please! Come meet Santa!” My little sister Mari tugs on my hand. She’s in a little pink tutu and a slick back bun, her ballet shoes have been changed into her usual converse.
We’re at an after party/fundraiser for her ballet show, the kids were all surprised by a man dressed as santa. She was adorable, a tiny Clara!
Mari skips off with her friends as I turn to mine. Kat downs her drink, “I need another one. Too many kids around.” I laugh and clink her already empty champagne glass.
We walk off to the bar, looking up at the giant chandelier and sprawling stairways. This theater is beautiful, kids in costumes and glitter run around while the society of Monaco gossips and laughs in their presence.
We grab more champagne, smoothing out my dark plum dress and almost twisting an ankle with these silver heels my sister begged me to wear.
“Y/n!” Mari yells, hopping up and down, in line to meet the big man himself. Or… a knock off.
“Oh my.” Kat elbows me, “I’d let him slip down my chimney-” I scoff loudly and laugh, hitting her arm.
“What about that french boy you met?” I raise a brow, my eyes lingering on the man whose face is partially covered by a white wig and beard.
“Oh I see him.” She winks as I giggle, “Come on then, you must meet this cute santa!” I groan as she drags me to the back of the line, “I’ve heard whispers… he’s twenty six.” She whispers as I watch two F1 drivers walk past us.
“I am not sitting on his lap!” I laugh, shaking my head and sipping my drink, Kat grips my arm and pulls me to the front next to Mari.
“What are you asking for?” Mari asks me, clapping her little hands together and tapping her feet.
Her friends touches my dress, “This is so pretty!”
“I heard he’s famous.” One of the ballerinas behind us says just as I get pushed onto the little stand and an elf guides me.
He looks at me, all dressed up and in a whole fat suit. I can’t help but laugh as I get helped onto his lap. I honestly feel horribly awkward, “Sorry… my friend made me.”
His eyes are green, the kind of striking color that stops your thoughts. He tugs down his fake beard, exposing his face and smile.
A very attractive face and smile. “Don’t worry. Are you gonna make me do the voice?” He's got freckles and an accent.
I smile softly, “There’s a voice?”
“What are you asking for this christmas?” He says it in a deep santa like voice.
I laugh, “That’s good.”
“Why thank you…” I raise a brow at his trailing off, “I need a name to match the pretty face, and for the address of your gifts, I suppose.”
Oh he’s a flirt. “Y/n.” I nod, “You gonna make me call you santa?” His fingers brush the side of my hip.
“I’m not that into role playing…” He shakes his head and I spot a tiny dark curl by his ear, “Okay the elf’s are about to get mad. What would you like for Christmas, Y/n?”
He says my name, looking me dead in the eye. Shit I think I might be attracted to Santa.
I bite my lip, “How about, what time Santa gets off?”
His smile shifts into a smirk, “Christmas came early, I guess. Ten.”
He meets me in an empty hallway, Its almost hard to tell if it’s him because of his change in clothes.
He's in a black suit, bowtie and everything. He’s far more agreeable without the white hair.
In fact, the white is replaced with real curls. Dark curls cut into a nice mullet that suits his face. It was in fact a fat suit that I can now clearly see was horribly fake.
I have a sneaking suspicion that tonight is going to be extra interesting now. His hands go to his pockets, that smile on display again for me. “I’m Lando.”
#fanfic#formula 1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 fic#lando norris#lando norris fanfic#lando x reader#lando imagine#f1 christmas#christmas fanfic
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⋆˙⟡ lacy, oh, lacy, matt sturniolo
ex!matt sturniolo x ex!fem reader
synopsis. in which your ex boyfriend matt gets a new girlfriend and you envy her.
warnings. angst, self comparison, ex!matt, jealousy.
word count. 700 words.
authors note. this is my fav song on guts :(
you were scrolling mindlessly through instagram, half-distracted by the show playing in the background, when it hits you like a punch in the gut.
matt’s name.
you almost swipe past it, the little blue checkmark drawing your attention before your brain has time to catch up. the first photo in the carousel is enough to make your chest tighten; matt’s unmistakable smile, wild and carefree, his arm slung casually around the waist of a girl who is undeniably beautiful.
she’s perfect in a way that feels cruel. her hair is shiny and soft, her skin glowing like she exists in some perpetually golden hour. she’s wearing a baby pink skirt and a white tank top, that made you second-guess every piece of clothing you ever owned. and matt—he’s looking at her like she’s the only thing that matters, his gaze full of that rare blend of comfort and adoration that used to be reserved for you.
your fingers hovered over the screen, but the curiosity wins. you click on her profile—never a good idea.
her name is lacy, a name as delicate and ethereal as she looks. her bio is full of cute emojis, and her feed is an endless stream of photos that make her seem both unreachable heartbreakingly real. there are candids of her laughing with friends, aesthetic shots of iced-lattes and sunsets, flawless photos of her, and of course, more pictures of her with matt.
each photo was a dagger.
you scroll further, unable to stop yourself. there’s a photo of her in a bikini that hugged her perfect body in all the right ways, standing on the beach, her arms wrapped around matt as he leans down to kiss her forehead. the stunning sunset in the background really setting the scene.
you hate her. you hate how easily she seems to slot into the life that used to be yours. you hate the way she seems so effortlessly happy, like she’s never had to sit in her room crying after seeing someone else post photos like this. most of all, you hate how much she reminds you of everything you’re not.
lacy was kind. you could tell by the way people commented under her posts, by the stories where she’s tagged with the captions like “the sweetest person alive” and “my literal angel.” she’s funny, too, with captions that actually made you laugh even though you resented her for it. and then there’s the way she looks at matt in every picture. it’s the kind of look you recognised because it used to be yours.
and matt—he’s happy. he looks like he’s found the thing he’s been searching for.
it feels like a slap in the face.
you tell yourself to stop. to close the app, put your phone down, and do literally anything else. but instead, you go back to his post, lingering on the comment section. the flood of heart emojis and “you two are perfect” messages like tiny arrows, each one reminding you that this is his life now.
he doesn’t think about you anymore.
the realisation hits harder than you expect. it’s not like you thought he was still pining for you, but seeing it laid out in front of you—proof that he’s moved on, that he’s happy—makes your stomach churn.
you close instagram and toss your phone onto your bed next to you, but the damage is done. lacy is burned into your mind now, an image you can’t shake. you think about her at random moments, comparing yourself to her in ways that feel pathetic but impossible to stop.
would matt have loved you more if you’d been more like her? if you’d laughed more or dressed better or been softer around the edges?
you hate how much you care.
it’s not just jealousy—it’s grief. for what you had with matt, for the person you were when you were with him. for the version of you that thought she was enough.
you try to tell yourself it’s just a passing feeling, that in a few days this ache will dull into something manageable. but tonight, it’s sharp and all-consuming, and it’s hard not to feel like lacy has taken more than matt from you.
she’s taken the version of yourself that felt loved.
and you can’t stop wondering if you’ll ever get her back.
#matt sturniolo#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo edit#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo imagine#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo smut#matthew sturniolo#nick sturniolo#chris sturniolo angst#chris sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo angst#matt sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo x you
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What Is This Feeling?
Fiyero Tigelaar x fem!reader
summary: you and Fiyero mistake your attraction to each other as loathing.
From the moment you laid eyes on Fiyero, you loathed him. Your classes were important to you and it seemed like all he cared about was having fun which was obvious by the way he never paid attention in class and the fact that he had been kicked out of every other school he had been to. Everything was a joke to him. He never paid attention in class, always giggling with Glinda about whatever they talked about.
And Fiyero felt the same. He hated how seriously you took everything, never wanting to have just a little fun, which you think he had too much of. You were always either studying or taking some sort of notes. He didn’t understand why you were always so focused on your studies, why you were so tightly wound. He was wondering if he could help you with that somehow.
It seemed like the two of you made your rivalry everyone else’s problem, constantly arguing during meals or in the class you had together, always disrupting the peace between all of the other students. It seemed like everyone but the two of you thought that your feud had been a little silly. And maybe it was, but neither of you saw it that way.
What you didn’t know, though, was that Fiyero was only doing the whole thing just to get a rise out of you. He just wanted to push your buttons, partly because of how easy it was to rile you up, but mostly because you were just so hot when you were angry. There were so many times when he was close to pushing you up against the wall and kissing you stupid. But he never did. He couldn’t. You clearly didn’t like him and a kiss between the two of you would have only ever remained a fantasy.
And because of how obvious it was how into you Fiyero was, Glinda made it her mission to make you no longer a romantic option for him. So she made multiple attempts to set you up with other students at Shiz, but to no avail. You could see what she was doing and didn’t know why it was so important for her to get rid of you when you didn’t even like Fiyero like that anyway. How clear did you have to make it to her that he was all hers.
But still, because she wasn’t totally wicked, Glinda invited you to the Ozdust Ballroom where a lot of the other students were going to do that night. And even though you were suspicious of her intentions, you still decided to go, putting on your prettiest dress and hopping on the last boat that was going to take you to the destination.
The second you got inside, you descended the stairs, completely fascinated by the place, completely unaware of the way Fiyero was looking at you, like you had hung the moon. He was so captivated by you and the pretty blue dress you were wearing that caught the light perfectly. He had to have you and he had to have you right then. It was killing him knowing that you could have possibly gone back to someone else’s room and slept with someone who wasn’t him.
You were distracted by his outfit as you approached him. It was covered in different shapes and bright colors and you couldn’t believe how good it looked on him, almost as if it were made for him specifically. And knowing Fiyero, it probably was.
You’d never tell him, but he looked good, hot, even. He always did and you hated how good he always looked on everything he wore, how he made the school uniform work for him.
“Y/n,” he and Glinda said at the same time, his tone soft, his smile bright, while Glinda looked very unhappy to see you there, sounding nothing but surprised to see you there despite being the one who invited you.
“What are you doing here?” She asked as if reading Fiyero’s mind. This didn’t seem like your kind of scene, but then his eyes caught onto the book in your hand and he couldn’t help but smile at how cute he thought you were. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity and you brought a book? The two of you couldn’t have been more different.
“You invited me,” you reminded the blonde and Fiyero whipped around to look at her in confusion.
“Did you?” He asked, genuinely confused as to why she would have done that since she had been about as subtle as a gun about how much she had disliked you.
“I did,” Glinda nodded with a smile, hoping, praying that it will score her some brownie points with the man standing next to her. Her arm hooked around his, but he quickly pulled away, offering his hand to you, completely catching both you and Glinda off guard.
“Would you like to dance with me, Miss l/n?” he asked and you leaned to the side to lock eyes with the blonde, silently asking if it was okay. She nodded, accepting defeat and Fiyero led you over to the floor where the other dancing bodies were gathered.
You didn’t know what you were doing nor why you were doing it with Fiyero, but you had to admit that you were intrigued. You thought he was into Glinda so you didn’t know why he had offered the invitation to you. That was one thing you were finally going to figure out. Well, two, since you wanted to know so badly why he had disliked you.
You tried to move to the beat as you hugged your book to your chest, wanting to protect it as you moved back and forth, trying to not get hit by the people around you. Fiyero let out a laugh and gently took the book from you, stuffing it into the pocket inside his jacket for safekeeping before taking your hands, pulling you to him.
You tried to follow his dancing as he moved so fluidly, something you could never do. And Fiyero wanted to help, wanted to show you just how easy it was to move the way that he did, especially when he was holding onto you.
Fiyero hesitantly hovered his hands over your waist as if asking permission and you nodded, deciding to give it to him. His hands rested on your hips gently and he moved them back and forth the way he was, both of you looking down at the way he was helping you dance. It wasn’t a way you had ever done it, so fluid and…pretty.
“Just like that,” he said and went to let go, but you grabbed his arms, holding his hands in place. You couldn’t let him go, not then.
“Stay,” you tell him, your voice soft for the first time when it came to speaking to him. “Please.”
“Of course,” he nodded, not able to fight the smile on his face as the two of you moved together around the dance floor.
Before that night, you never would have imagined talking to, let alone dancing with Fiyero as he spun you around the dance floor, the two of you laughing as you did so. You were actually having fun and you realized that when you weren’t arguing with him, Fiyero was actually really funny and sweet.
He spun you out and once he spun you back in, you found yourself pressed up against a wall, gasping as you took in the position he had put you in. You watched his eyes ick back and forth from your lips back to your eyes and you pressed yourself against the wall even further.
“Can I kiss you?” He asked and even though it should have been obvious by his staring at your mouth, your eyes widened at his question.
“Fiyero-“ you cut yourself off, unsure how to answer him, unsure as to why you wanted to let him kiss you.
“I’m sorry,” he apologizes immediately. “I should have-“ before he can get too far, you grab onto the collar of his jacket and pull his face down to yours, slotting your lips between his before pulling away, fully aware of what you’d just done.
“I’m sorry.” Now you’re the one to apologize and Fiyero smiles in response.
“Don’t be,” he shook his head. “That was-do that again.” You do as he says and grab onto his collar, kissing him again, but this time for longer and with more intention. He was quick to respond, wrapping his arms around your waist as he smiled against your lips since this was what he’d been wanting for a while now.
His lips were pillowy soft and you’re convinced that you could kiss him for hours and not get tired of it. And Fiyero seemed to want the same as he helped you wrap your legs around him as he licked into your mouth, letting it roam around.
You let out a moan, your hands moving to his hair as he pulled you away from the wall, the two of you disappearing down the hallway as he took you somewhere more private. You were still holding onto him as he pressed you into a corner, trying to hide you from the other party goers. He wanted you all to himself and couldn’t bear the thought of you in another man’s arms.
“What are we doing?” You asked and Fiyero didn’t like your tone. It was demanding, almost accusatory. You were so sweet just a moment ago and now that fire, the pure hatred was back in your eyes.
“I thought we were kissing,” he replied with a laugh, his hands resting on your waist. Your face twisted into a glare and that only made him want to laugh more, but he was more set on making you smile again. He liked seeing it and wished you would do it more often. At least, for him.
“I mean this,” you referred to him then yourself. “We hate each other, Fiyero.”
“I’ve never hated you,” he corrected. “In fact, I really like you. I was only teasing you because you’re pretty hot when you’re mad, especially at me. I actually happen to think you’re sweet.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek. “And smart.” Your other cheek. “And fucking gorgeous.” This time, your lips, a gentle, featherlight touch, giving you every chance to push him off. But you didn’t. You just stood there, letting Fiyero kiss you before he pulled away.
You were glad he was still holding onto you because if he hadn’t been, you would have melted at his words. You never thought he felt that way about you and knowing he was just trying to get a rise out of you because he thought you were hot when you were mad only made your panties damp.
Your arms wrapped around his neck as he pulled away, an apologetic look on his face. Now you felt silly for being mad at him when all the hating was one-sided. And deep down, you didn’t even really hate Fiyero. As you had gotten to know him, the hatred quickly faded, but you were forced to pretend that you disliked him because feeling any other way towards him felt odd.
But now that you were looking at him, that soft look on his face, everything but comfort and fondness melted away and all you could do was kiss him, smiling into it as soon as your lips touched his.
“What is this feeling?” You asked against his lips and Fiyero chuckled.
“I believe it’s called love,” he replied, setting you down on your feet and taking you by the hand. “Now come on, my love, let’s go somewhere more private.”
And Fiyero led you somewhere you could be alone, talking about everything and nothing between kisses, holding each other in your arms, deciding that was the only place you wanted to be for the rest of your lives.
#fiyero#fiyero tigelaar#fiyero tigelaar fluff#fiyero tigelaar x reader#fiyero x reader#fiyero x you#fiyero x y/n#fiyero x fem!reader#wicked
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✧ ━━━ CHOKEHOLD ✧ ━━━ CW: CORSET, ORAL SEX (F.REC), FINGERING, DOM(?)!FELIX, UNPROTECTED SEX, SCRATCHING, G-SPOT STIMULATION, MULTIPLE ORGASMS, CREAM PIE, ✧ ━━━ WC: 1.8K
There wasn’t always a war between the Solar and Lunar Kingdoms. Disagreements and minor issues here and there, yes. But only in the last few years did Y/n’s father— the king of the Lunar Kingdom—deem the Solar Kingdom their enemy. She remembered the night vividly.
It was supposed to be a celebration in Spring court. One of two major territories that belonged to the Lunar Kingdom. It was the turn of the season. From winter to spring and all courts— Winter, Spring, Summer, Autumn— were in attendance along with Solar and Lunar Kingdoms.
Everything seemed fine the entire night. Dinner, socializing, and even dancing was fine. Or maybe she should have paid more attention. She was busy. It wasn’t often she got to see the fae she was fated to.
Between her responsibilities as princess and Felix’s responsibilities as prince and next in line for Solar’s throne, they didn’t see much of each other except at formal events like this.
“You look gorgeous tonight,” Felix complimented as he danced with her. Having just switched partners from Jisung — the Duke of Autumn court— to Felix.
“Thank you,” Y/n smiled
“Any word from your father on Solar’s proposal?” Felix questioned
“No. I know he and my brother were discussing it. Don’t know what the outcome was.”
Both heirs weren’t blind to the fact their kingdoms weren’t entirely friends. Resources were always the main fight between them. Last time Felix had visited Y/n— well her kingdom — on official business, he had mentioned to her that he proposed to his and her father and advisors that if the two heirs were to marry then the fighting would stop. Their realm could have peace.
“Hopefully it’s a good one,” Felix asked
“I hope so too. I’m tired of only seeing each other at events.”
“We should make the most of it then.”
The two royals made their way out of the ballroom and walked down the halls of Spring Manor. Finding themselves out in the back garden, moonlight bathing them and blooming the spring flowers as the winter flowers fell from their stems.
“Do you think we should have told our families about our fates?” Felix asked
“No, you know how my father is when anyone brings up fate,” Y/n responded
“Yeah. Even if I barely pay attention.”
“Because you distract easily.”
“It’s easy to be distracted when you’re naked in my bed, princess.”
“Then don’t ask me those questions, prince.”
Felix smiled as he stood in front of her, stopping them from their walk and holding her hips, “Speaking of beds, is the Lunar princess staying in Spring Manor tonight?”
“I am. I take it you are too?”
“Indeed I am.”
The two royals quickly made their way out of the garden, the south entrance of the manor closer and where her room was. The two quickly and quietly got to her room and locked the door.
Felix cupped her face in his hands and pressed his warm lips to hers. Y/n smiled against his lips as she held his waist, slowly walking back to the bed. The prince turned then and sat on the edge of the bed, pulling her onto his lap.
“Missed you,” Y/n whispered against his lips
“Missed you too,” Felix mumbled, hands moving to undo the corset of her dress, slowly pulling the strings loose.
Y/n helped him pull her dress off before she stripped him of his suit. All materials of their formal wear falling to the floor or mattress behind them. Felix laid back with her on top before gently rolling her over, pinning her onto the mattress, and moving his lips down her neck and body
“Lix,” Y/n whined
“Been too long. Let me worship you for a while, princess.”
Felix didn’t let her get another word, kissing further down her torso and pulling her legs over his shoulders. Pretty lips wrapping around her clit, gently sucking on the bud and flicking it with his tongue. Y/n moaned as he held her thighs tight. Not daring to move them from his shoulders.
“Lix,” Y/n moaned as her fingers tangled in his blond hair. The prince made a small noise below but didn’t let up, now on a mission.
The prince took one hand off her thigh and slipped one finger into her. Y/n covered her mouth, hiding her moans from anybody who was maybe passing by. No one — except their advisors who handled their mail— knew the two royals were together. No one in Y/n’s family knew about her secret relationship with the prince of Solar. She just hoped her father would accept his marriage proposal and he could believe the relationship was his choosing. All she hoped was one day she’d wake up with Felix instead of cold beds after their rendezvous.
The princess bit her lips and tipped her head back as her walls clenched around his finger. Felix hummed to himself in contempt as he felt her squeeze his finger. Slipping another finger in her she begged for more which seemed to do the job. Walls pulsing around his fingers as he lapped at her clit. Groaning and holding her down with one hand as her hips rocked against his face. He held her and kept rubbing all the right spots before she came on his fingers.
Y/n arched her back against him as she rode out high before crashing against the mattress. Felix pulled away from her and cleaned off his fingers before hovering over her. Kissing her cheeks, “Feeling alright there princess?” he asked in his deep voice
“Mhm,” Y/n nodded as a chill ran down her spine. There always was one when he spoke to her in his deepest voice
“Does my needy princess need more or are you side for the night?” he asked her
“More,” Y/n begged
“You never need to beg. Just ask,” Felix reminded her as he sat back and wrapped her legs around his hips. Y/n looked down at the prince. Watching him push his blond hair out of his face and lined himself up at her entrance. Slowly pushing in and giving her as much time as she needed to get used to him again.
Y/n wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him back to her. “Missed you,” Y/n whispered as he slowly pulled back and pushed in
“I missed you too.” Felix pressed his lips to hers again. His arms moved under her body and held her close to him. Hips moved skillfully, capturing her moans in his mouth as she captured his.
“Take me back with you this time, please.” Y/n begged
“I wish I could darling.” Felix groaned, hips picking up pace slightly.
Y/n moaned as his tip just grazed that perfect spot inside her. “There! Right there Lix.”
Felix acknowledged her words and shifted his position just a little to push further in and hit that spot inside her where she begged to be hit. Pushing her legs up just a bit more as well. His hands slid under her thighs to do so. The princess gasped when the position hit right where she needed him. Her hands moved down his back before her nails were crawling back up. Eliciting a deep groan from him and cursing under his breath.
Y/n smiled to herself at his reaction before the thought left her head and focused back on how the prince was making her feel. Pushing her further into pleasure before her whole body was consumed with it.
“Fuck,” Felix groaned as she clenched around him, riding out her second orgasm.
He waited until he felt her unclench and sink into the mattress before he sat up a bit more and pushed her legs down just a bit more, thrusting into her as fast as he could. Her moans and whines helping him get off quicker. Pushing deep into her and letting his cum paint her walls.
He gave himself a few seconds before pulling her legs down to pulled out of her. Felix gave her a quick kiss on her lips before making his way to the ensuite bathroom she had and grabbed a cloth to clean her up and then discarded it in the bathroom before climbing into the bed with her. Pulling the covers over them.
“I want to wake up like this,” Y/n grumbled as she wrapped her arms around the prince’s waist
“So do I darling,” Felix sighed and kissed the top of her head.
Both knew they couldn’t. Who knows what would happen if someone found them in their position.
So many days they wished and wrote how they wanted to wake up next to the other. No more sneaking around. Felix himself was trying to do everything in his power to make that dream a reality. At this point, he didn’t care if it hurt him or he lost sleep— which he most certainly had— over it.
He would give anything in the realm to have her by his side. Even giving up his throne.
Y/n had paid so much attention to her lover that she had completely dismissed her family. She never saw her father talking to Felix’s father. Nor the building temper he had before leaving the ballroom. Now back home she watched soldiers in the courtyard prepare for war. Her father and brother in front of them.
“You got a letter,” Seungmin, her personal advisor, alerted her.
“From him?” Y/n asked, grabbing the folded paper from his hands. Seeing Felix’s signature stamp.
“Why would I hand it straight to you otherwise?”
She quickly read through the letter. Solar was preparing for war too. He would be heading Solar’s front with his advisor — Chan. Worry quickly building in her gut. She had overheard her father and brother talking about the future king leading the front line and she knew just how Minho fought. She’d seen him practice and heard how the guards spoke about his skills.
Scared for her lovers like she started forming the later in her head as she quickly walked to her room, Stringing following not far behind.
“I should warn you it’s going to be hard to get the letter out. Your fathers talking about refusing any mail in or out of the kingdom. Only allowing messages from allies?” Seungmin warned her
As far as she knew, the costs were still up in area about the war, almost refusing to pick a side. But she has overheard her brother and Jisung of Autumn court discussing troops to send from autumn court to the kingdom.
“Fuck,” She cursed under her breath
“Language, princess,” Seungmin teased her
“I am not in the mood for the reading right now, Kim Seungmin,” Y/n warned him
“Apologies.”
“Do whatever you can to get my letters to Felix, understood? I don’t care if you're going behind my father and brothers back.”
“Understood.”
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Help With The Curriculum Pt 4
Agatha x Rio x Reader
Word count: 4.2k
Notes: Smut, choking, fingering, cunnulingus, daddy!kink, mommy!kink, dacryphilia, dirty talk, edging, mentions of overstimulation, begging degradation, praise
Summary: Rio gets herself a chance with you and Agatha. The only caveat is that she has to follow instructions and even then, she might not get a reward.
An: The Ao3 curse hit me, but part 4 (potentially last part) is here, hope you like it.
Previous Part | Masterlist | Series Masterlist
“Y/n, wake up.”
You groan, snuggling further into Agatha’s warmth. She chuckles a bit, scratching the top of your head.
“Baby, you have to let me get up. I have to go home.”
That only causes you to hold her tighter, “No.”
She sighs, “I have class later, I have to go home to change.”
“Wear mine,” you mumble against her collarbone.
“You’d love seeing me in your clothes, wouldn’t you?”
You pull away from her and wipe your eyes, “What time is it?”
“6 am.”
You shake your head, “We’re college professors, 6am is high school teacher hours Agatha.”
“Well, I need time to go home and get ready. Someone didn’t want to let me go last night,” she gets up, causing you to sit up right in your bed.
“It was late, and besides your legs could’ve given out on the way over,” you tease her.
Agatha rolls her eyes, “Funny, I’ll see you on campus.”
“Wait,” you get out of bed clumsily, she laughs at your movements. “Let me walk you out.”
“Adorable.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you lead her to your front door.
“I have a gap around 2, if you want to do lunch?” She suggests and you nod.
“I’d like that,” you smile at her.
“Text me your order, I’ll pick it up,” she says and for a moment it feels like you’re both prolonging the goodbye.
You kiss her sweetly, not really wanting to stop, “You need to go before I take you back to my bedroom.”
You push her lightly out of the door. She starts walking to her car, but she turns back half way just to blow you a kiss. A small chuckle escapes you before you shoo her away with one last movement of your hand. You wait for her to drive off before going back inside your home.
Since you were awake so early you decided to make breakfast and get ready for work. By the time you were dressed and finished eating it was time for you to go.
Today was the day of the exam, so it was going to be relatively easy for you. You arrive to your classroom a bit early to make sure everything is set for the exam.
“Exam days always seem to drag on forever,” you lift your head at the sound of her voice.
“Professor Vidal, what do you want?” Your voice is dry when you speak to her.
“Think I made that quite obvious yesterday,” she stalks her way over to your desk.
“And why would I reward such a brat?”
She puts her hands behind her back and tilts her head. Her eyes get big and glossy, “But I’m a good girl.”
You could see why Agatha would easily cave in to the woman. She is hot; her body is damn near perfect and her beauty is undeniable.
“No you aren't, because here you are begging me like a needy slut. When we both know you should be talking to Agatha, instead,” you give her a pointed look.
“She doesn't want me anymore,” you hear a vulnerability that you aren't sure she meant to convey.
“Who said that?”
Rio frowns, “She did, literally yesterday. She told me to move on.”
You sigh taking a bit of pity on the woman, “Listen Rio, your problem is that you push too far. Agatha can't handle you being a brat all of the time. I don't think she wanted to end things with you, but if you're never going to listen to her, what's the point?”
“And you listen to her?”
You nod, “Of course, I listen to her, she listens to me.”
Rio focuses on the ground, “She listens to you. She never let me- I wanted to be in control sometimes.”
You cross your arms leaning back against the chair, “Sounds like a reward. I wonder if you could earn it, somehow?”
It's Rio’s turn to sigh, “I need to talk to her, don't I?”
You nod, “I think it’d benefit you.”
She groans, but make her way towards the exit, “You know, I'm not all bad Professor L/n.”
“I know, but you have some lessons to learn. Hopefully rewards to gain, Professor Vidal.”
When she leaves your eyes linger where she stood. It felt like she was the embodiment of temptation. You could imagine what she looked like bare, her look playful, and eager. You’re sure that her neediness clouded any sense of obedience in her body.
When the class piled in you gave them the exam instructions. While they were testing, you let your mind wander to what you could do with Rio. How you could help Agatha tame her.
You were thinking about it until it was time for lunch. Agatha said she would meet you in your classroom.
“What did you say to her?”
Agatha sits the food on your desk.
You shrug, “I told her she needed to talk to you, why?”
Agatha begins to take out the food, “She apologized for being such a brat all the time, said that what we had was important to her, and that she didn’t want to lose it.”
“And what did you say?”
Agatha sighs, “I told her that I wanted to believe her.”
“But…”
“But she would have to prove that she could be good.”
You take a sip of your drink, “And how should she do that?”
Agatha’s eyes met yours, “I was hoping you had some ideas.”
You smirk, “I’ve been brain storming since she left my classroom. I was thinking, maybe we could put on a little show for her, but the rules prohibit her from touching. If she lasts, she can have a reward, but if she can’t… we can give her a very memorable punishment. Thinking either edging or overstimulation. Depends on her attitude.”
Agatha levels with you, “I doubt she can hold out. I mean I doubt that I could if I was watching us fuck.”
You lean back in your chair, “This test isn't about her obedience, it’s about her willpower. I want to see how quickly she cracks, if she’s remorseful, or if she’s going to be disrespectful. If she meant what she said to you, she will try her hardest. Tell her to meet us Saturday at your place. I assume she knows where you live.”
Agatha snickers, “Why do I hear some jealousy in that last part?”
“I told you, I’m not fond of sharing. Don’t worry though, I plan to work through that when Rio’s watching me make you all desperate. I know what she wants from you Aggie, and I’m going to show her how much you love when I give it to you,” your jaw twitches slightly.
“I’m looking forward to it,” she begins to eat her food.
The days seem to pass slowly as anticipation builds inside of you. You’re excited but you don’t necessarily know if that’s appropriate. In truth you wouldn’t describe yourself as a naturally dominant person but something about being with Agatha and something about the thought of being with Rio really made you want to take control.
With Agatha there was much more of a give and take nature to your encounters. Sometimes you would be in control and sometimes you’d crumble under her gaze. However, with Rio’s needy eyes on you, you didn't know if it would be appropriate to crumble.
This time would be somewhat of an example for any times that would occur in the future. It was like you were setting a precedent for how things would unfold and whatever kind of relationship you decided to pursue. There was a lot of confliction inside of you the moment he saw her you did want to put her in her place. You were serious when you said you weren’t sharing but now you didn't know if that was true.
Was it really sharing if you had decided you wanted both?
“I can feel you thinking from here,” Agatha’s hand cups your face.
You’re both in her bedroom waiting for Rio to arrive. You let out a relaxed sigh as her thumb starts to caress your face.
“It feels silly, but I think I’m nervous. I’ve never done anything like this before. I know I was talking a big game, and that was real. I want this, I just don't want to fuck this up,” you admit.
“You’re adorable,” she says.
You whine, “Agatha.”
“Baby it’s not just you in here, I'm here too. I doubt you’ll struggle to preform because you haven't before this. In the case that you do, I’ll be here to get us back on track. Trust me?”
You nod and lean in to peck her lips, “I trust you.”
The doorbell rings breaking the endearing moment. You want to rush to the door but a gentle tug from Agatha has you walking at a slower pace.
“Compose yourself,” she whispers to you before opening the door.
Rio stands on Agatha’s porch in a short sundress. The nerves on her face are present, but she tampers them with a smile.
“Looks a little different than last time I was here,” Rio says peering into the house.
“You know I get bored with décor quickly,” Agatha says stepping aside to let her in.
“And how different is the bedroom?” Rio says slyly.
You speak up, “You should see for yourself.”
Rio hums at your words, making her way towards the bedroom. Agatha and yourself follow her side by side. When you’re all in the room, you’re the one to close the door.
There’s a tension in the air, anticipation of what will happen.
“So…”
“Sit in that chair,” you command Rio, before she can further speak.
She complies, sitting in the chair in the corner of the room. You keep your eyes on her, “Good listening, today we’re going to see how long you can keep it up for. You’re going to sit here and watch while Agatha and I fuck. You aren't going to touch yourself at any point.”
Rio’s eyes darken, “And what do I get for sitting here?”
You tilt your head to the side, “Why would you get anything? This isn’t a reward, this is your case to Agatha that you can be a good girl, and follow simple instructions without being a brat.”
“I can be good.”
You grip her chin so she looks into your eyes, “I hope so because I think it would be fun to play with you.”
You kiss her cheek before turning your back to her and heading towards Agatha. You stand in front of her, eyes locked on each other. Your hands find the bottom of her shirt. You raise it slowly giving her a chance to stop you.
She doesn’t, when her shirts off your hands trail up her soft skin. You let out a shaky breath, trying to control your impulses. Your head dips down so that your tongue could swirl around one of her nipples. The other nipple was occupied in between your fingers.
Periodically you look up to take in the details of Agatha’s face. The light moans and delicate tensions on her face are not enough for you. You want more, you start to use your teeth and soon her breathy moans become more fleshed out.
Agatha couldn’t take any more of the teasing, she pulls your face up so that your lips meet. It’s hungry, and you swear her lips get softer every time you kiss them. You moan as she sucks on your bottom lip.
You hear a whimper in the corner of the room and you break from the kiss. Rio looks like she has a sweat building up on her forehead. You pull your shirt from over your head and see her eyes widen as she takes in your body.
You don’t miss the way her hands grip the chair. Agatha hugs you from behind, her hand traveling down your body with no hesitation in sight. You moan, keeping eye contact with Rio as Agatha’s hand disappears into your pants.
“You’re so wet for me baby,” she trails kisses up your neck.
“I need you,” you say bucking into her hand.
She guides you so that your back hits the wall. In a swift movement your pants are down and Agatha is on her knees. She spreads your legs and your breathing speeds up a bit.
You grab a handful of her hair and laugh lightly, “Isn’t this familiar?”
She chuckles the same, “Not until you start moaning professor.”
Her hands rest on your thigh as her tongue swipes through your folds. Your grip on her hair tightens, as her pace increases. She hums in satisfaction, not caring about how far her face is buried into your cunt.
“How you doing over there Vidal?” You manage to glance at her and she looks in utter discomfort. She doesn’t answer, “I asked you something.”
“S-soaked,” she grits out.
“Fuck, Aggie were you starving or something?” You feel your legs begin to shake a little from the intensity of her movements.
She pulls away, “You just taste so good.”
“Should we give her something?” You nod your head towards Rio.
Agatha nods, “Whatever your thinking, I’m in.”
Rio sighs believing that the challenge is over and that she’s won a reward. You smile sweetly at her, “Strip.”
Her clothes are gone in under a minute and she stands eagerly.
“Ok sit back down, you were a little uncomfortable in the clothes,” you speak dismissively before returning your attention to Agatha.
“You want to taste yourself?”
You nod, “And I need those fingers inside of me professor.”
“Suck,” Agatha pushes two fingers into your mouth.
You obey her and as soon as her fingers leave your mouth her lips are on yours again. As your kiss echoes in the room, she slides fingers into you.
You gasp in pleasures as she quickly begins to pump in and out of you. Her thumb finds your clit and you can barely keep up with the kiss. Your head falls onto her shoulder.
“You like when I burry my fingers in you, baby? The way my thumb presses down on your clit? Fuck, I can feel you clenching against me. You going to cum on my fingers that fast? God you’re needy today, or is it cause Rio’s watching? You want her to see how I make you cum.”
You lift your head from her shoulder just enough to look at Rio, “I want her t-to see what she can’t have.”
With her now naked you can see every little twitch her body makes. The look of anger on her face only makes you cum harder. Agatha fucks you through it, and as soon as she pulls her fingers out of you, you’re guiding her towards the bed.
You sit with your back against the headboard and Agatha sits in between your legs.
“Open for me baby,” she follows your instructions opening her legs.
One of your arms secure around her waist while the other rubs small circles around her clit. You give Rio a perfect view of Agatha’s dripping cunt.
“You ever have her like this Rio?”
Your fingers glide through Agatha’s folds in a teasing manner.
Rio shook her head, “N-no.”
You chuckle deeply as you plunge two fingers into her, “Oh Aggie, that's so mean of you. Never opened up for your little plaything?”
“Never earned it,” Agatha says breathlessly.
You can see Rio fix her mouth to say something, but she holds back.
“Speak up bunny, I want to know what's on your mind. You think you deserved something like this?”
Your fingers work faster, intoxicated by the sounds of Agatha’s hungry wet hole.
Rio begins to shake in her spot, “I wanted it so bad.”
“Wanted what?”
Her head drops, “To fuck Agatha. To have her whimpering because of me, to give her so much pleasure that she'd be drunk on it. Maybe, maybe I didn't earn it. Hell, I doubt that I deserved it, but I wanted it. She deserved to be worshiped and I thought that would've been enough.”
You can feel Agatha’s breathing quicken at the words, “If you can't handle instructions, you couldn't handle fucking me.”
Your thumb presses against her clit and she throws her head back. You begin sucking harshly on her neck as it becomes more accessible.
You lick a long stripe along her neck sparing a glance at Rio, “Beg for it Rio.”
She’s quick to fall to her knees unceremoniously. Her legs are shaking and you can see her arousal glistening down them. Her eyes are large and filled with tears.
Her voice is hoarse with need as she speaks, “Please, please. I-I can’t watch anymore, I need to- please. Tell me to do something, I’ll do it. I-I can be good. I can listen. I’ll do anything.”
You can feel Agatha clenching around your fingers as she watches Rio beg.
“More,” Agatha growls at Rio.
“Mommy please, I’m sorry. I should’ve listened. I shouldn’t have been so bratty. I was bad, but not anymore. Please, touch me. Let me touch you. Anything, please,” Rio cries fully now.
Agatha begins to rock her hips against your fingers, “Ask Y/n.”
“Daddy please, I’m sorry for being such a slut in your classroom. I need you, I’ll do better, I’ll be better. You don’t have to share, you can own me. Please, please, please.”
Agatha’s body jerks forward as she cums. Your arm around her waist is the only thing keeping her grounded. You slow your fingers, waiting for her to ride out her orgasm before removing them from her cunt. They find their way into her mouth and she sucks them delicately.
“Come here,” you murmur to Rio.
She stands, quickly walking over to you. You unhook your arm from around Agatha, using that hand to lightly grip Rio’s jaw. She nearly flinches in anticipation from your grasp.
You swipe at her tears with your thumb. Slowly you pull her face towards you while craning your neck up to her. You kiss her and it’s a fragile thing. You can feel her holding back. Trying to restrain herself, from taking more than you’re willing to give.
She whimpers into your mouth and her legs begin trembling even more than before. Your eyes widen and you break the kiss.
“Did you just cum?”
Rio’s face tints red with embarrassment, “I-I-"
Agatha intervenes lifting Rio before tossing her gently on the bed, “God, you’re so beautifully pathetic when you listen.”
“I want to taste her, she wants to taste you. I think we can all be winners here,” you look at the tanned woman in a predatory manner.
“Can you handle it baby? You couldn’t even manage a simple kiss, without making a mess of yourself,” Agatha questions her.
“Please, sit on my face mommy,” she pants out.
You decide to give Rio some relief, “Don’t hold back, but I’m telling you right now, I’m not stopping until Agatha cums again. So if you cum before her, we’re going to keep going, understand?”
She nods the best she can, “I understand.”
Agatha grabs Rio’s wrists, holding them above her. The older woman straddles Rio’s head, not loosening her tight hold on the submissive’s wrists.
“You know the signal if it’s too much,” Agatha speaks tenderly.
Again Rio nods the best she can.
That’s the only sign Agatha needs before fully sitting on the woman’s face.
Rio’s legs open for you with the sound of her sticky cunt echoing in your mind. She is absolutely drenched, you can see her clit twitching in anticipation. You can tell she’s sensitive, but you can’t help yourself.
Without hesitation you got straight to sucking her clit. Her back arches off of the bed, and you have to hold her legs in place. You can hear the low groan she let slip into Agatha, causing the other woman to grind down on Rio’s face.
Every calculated thought or worry that you previously had leaves your head as her taste seeps into your brain. All you want to do is make her cum. You eat her sloppily, not holding anything back. You can feel your jaw growing tired from how obsessively you’re eating her out.
You assume she’s doing the same to Agatha as the woman with the unoccupied mouth has not stopped making sounds since Rio’s face has been in her pussy.
When you finally detach your mouth from the woman, you stay close to her cunt. Letting your breath fan over her as you try to form any type of coherent thought.
“I understand why Agatha let you be a brat for so long. Your taste is so intoxicating baby, I just want to drown in it,” you say as you slide your middle finger into her.
You feel her cum instantly at the sensation and it makes your eyes roll back.
“You close professor?” You ask Agatha who only answers by nodding vigorously. “You’re going to give me one more then Rio.”
Feeling your own orgasm build, you began to feel needier. You want to feel Rio against you. So you change your position so that your cunt is aligned with hers. You hold one of her legs up and begin to grind against her.
The feeling of her hot sticky cunt rubbing against yours is bliss. You could feel her hips bucking into yours and it made you smile sadistically.
“Feels so good when you fuck yourself against me like that baby. Make us cum, like you begged for. Show us how desperate you are. Suck her clit, swirl your tongue around it, graze it with your teeth. Make her cum in your mouth, like the good girl you are. Don’t stop meeting my hips either, want you to show me you can multitask.”
Your words send Rio into a frenzy. She begins to speed up her movements, even though her body is fatigued. She works hard to send you both over the edge and she does.
Agatha cums first her hands abandoning Rio’s wrists to grab a fistful of her hair instead. She removes herself from atop of Rio only to meet the woman in a sloppy kiss. Rio doesn’t stop grinding against you even when fresh tears prick her eyes.
“Make daddy cum, baby,” Agatha kisses the top of Rio’s forehead moving stray hairs off of her face.
You fall apart at the same time Rio does, nearly collapsing against her. Agatha’s arms hold you up so you don’t flatten the woman beneath you. You can feel her squirt dripping down your abdomen, which sends a strong aftershock down your entire body.
“Fuck,” you say rubbing your hand against the mess she made on you.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers, exhaustion hitting her like a truck.
You shake your head, “You’re perfect.”
Rio blushes and then cover her face with her hands.
Agatha laughs softly at her behavior, “Underneath all that bratty attitude, is one of the softest girls in the world.”
“You’re just a sweetheart trying uphold some bad boy image aren’t you,” you run your hand through Rio’s hair.
She leans into your touch, “I’m a badass.”
You indulge her for a moment, “For sure. I know plenty of badasses who beg mommy and daddy to fuck them.”
She shoots back at you, “Whatever you say miss ‘I don’t share’.”
Agatha intervenes, “As much as this bickering turns me on. I’d say it’s time to clean up, because I’m going to have to wash these sheets before sleeping tonight.”
“So now what?” You prompt.
“Aggie?” Rio’s voice holds a vulnerability to it, “Can I stay?”
Agatha looks at you, a small uncertainty passes through her.
“Let her stay, the brat is growing on me,” you say, smiling down at Rio.
“She tends to have that effect on people,” Agatha also gives her a small smile.
“We usually just eat and watch tv after the mind blowing sex, so don’t expect too much excitement Vidal,” you say, getting out of the bed.
Agatha follows suit and Rio just sits up.
“I’d offer to cook, but I don’t think I can stand right now,” she laughs.
“Do not worry professor, we’ll help get you all cleaned up,” you send her a cheeky wink, before scooping her up in your arms.
She yelps in surprise, but wraps her arms around your neck so she doesn’t fall.
“Well aren’t you charming?”
You smile, “So I’ve been told.”
True to your words, the three of you clean up. It’s a group effort as you shower, Rio seriously having trouble standing up right. Agatha lends you both some comfy clothes to lounge in and you find yourselves on her couch eating takeout and watching Glee (your request).
“So she sent that girl to a crack house?” Agatha questions.
“It’s inactive,” you and Rio say at the same time.
“You two might just be too similar,” Agatha chuckles.
You and Rio share a look.
“Good taste,” you say at the same time.
Agatha rolls her eyes, “A few hours together and she’s already corrupting you, Y/n.”
“I actually think you might be the biggest brat here Agatha. Lying about needing help with the curriculum just so I’d fuck you silly… pretty brat like behavior,” you retort.
Now it’s Agatha that is blushing and Rio who is cackling.
You smile innocently, taking in the moment. Though it’s unconventional, this is something that you hoped you wouldn’t lose. Moments like these that transcended the bedroom always put it into perspective for you. You wanted to build something with these women. Unbeknownst to you they both wanted that very same thing.
#lowkeyerror#agatha x reader#agatha harkness x rio vidal#agatha harkness imagine#agatha harkness x reader#agatha harkness x rio vidal x reader#rio vidal x reader
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Second Request U can egnore! Rin's gi¹rlfriend loves to dress him and brags about the beauty of her boyfriend, she usually go shop for him (with his money ofc) and forget to buy herself anything the point that his clothes is more than her's! Nprp cuz rinnie will buy for her instead and make her wear his clothes🙂↔️💞
hiiii I hope it turns out the way you want, thank you for adding imagination to me.
Rin’s girlfriend loves dressing him up. It’s her favorite pastime, though Rin himself finds it mildly embarrassing. One Saturday, she drags him to a clothing store under the guise of “just browsing.” Of course, Rin knows what’s coming but goes along with it, his hands stuffed in his pockets and his usual stoic expression in place
After a couple of hours of her making him try on countless outfits, she holds up a sleek jacket and says “This would look amazing on you! Try it!”
Rin sighs but doesn’t resist, slipping it on while she beams. As he steps out of the fitting room, she gasps dramatically and says “See? You’re ridiculously good-looking! It’s almost unfair”
Rin, slightly flustered, mutters “You’re overreacting” But the faint blush on his cheeks gives him away. Later, Rin notices that while she’s piled his arms with clothes to buy, she hasn’t picked out a single thing for herself. When he points this out, she waves it off casually saying “I’m fine! I just love shopping for you”
The next day, Rin quietly goes shopping by himself and buys a few things for her, including a dress he’s sure she’ll like. When he gets home, he hands her the bag without much ceremony and says “You’re not allowed to forget yourself. Wear this tomorrow”
She’s surprised but grins brightly, teasing “Aw, you’re so thoughtful, Rinnie! But why do I feel like you just want me to stop wearing your hoodies all the time?”
Rin shrugs, barely reacting, though there’s a flicker of amusement in his eyes as he replies “Maybe. Or maybe I think you’d look better in my clothes anyway” The following morning, she steps out in the dress Rin picked, only for him to grab one of his oversized hoodies and toss it over her head “Looks better now” he says simply, but his smirk betrays his satisfaction
Sweet Dynamic:
She loves bragging about how gorgeous Rin is to anyone who’ll listen, much to his annoyance “Did you see my boyfriend? Isn’t he ridiculously handsome?!”Rin, meanwhile, tries to pretend he doesn’t hear, though his ears turn red every time while she’s busy spoiling him
Rin quietly takes care of her in his own way—whether it’s making sure her favorite snacks are stocked or slipping a hoodie over her shoulders when she’s cold
Her wardrobe gradually fills up with Rin’s hoodies, jackets, and even a few T-shirts she steals from him. Rin doesn’t really mind—he thinks she looks better in his clothes anyway
When she gets carried away shopping for Rin, he eventually just picks out something for her, hands it to the cashier, and says “She’ll take this too”
When she teases him about how his wardrobe is ten times bigger than hers now, Rin deadpans “Your fault. You picked everything”
Enjoy!
#bllk fluff#bllk x you#bllk rin#bllk x reader#bllk#bluelock x you#blue lock x female reader#blue lock x y/n#blue lock x you#bluelock x reader#blue lock x reader#blue lock#rin itoshi x you#rin itoshi x reader#rin itoshi#rin x reader#rin itoshi x y/n#itoshi rin x reader#itoshi rin#blue lock rin itoshi#itoshi rin x you#blue lock rin#itoshi rin smut#rin itoshi smut
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The yandere caitlyn hcs where SO GOOD OMGG, can you please maybe write some about what day to day life would be like “living” with caitlyn. (now I’m picturing the reader doing a “grwm as a kidnapping victim” video) TYY
part one
a/n: i giggled at the grwm joke,, i'd definitely watch that on youtube or tiktok. LMAO.
cw: captivity, yandere behavior, controlling and overbearing behavior, drugging, physical violence, infantilization, amputation
❝yandere!caitlyn kiramman x fem!reader❞
💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 I think the day to day routine would change slowly overtime! Depending on how long you've been in Caitlyn's "care."
💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 I imagine for awhile from the moment you awoke to months after, Caitlyn would be pretty strict and diligent with routine. Wakes you up at 6 am, get ready for the day, breakfast at 7 sharp, activities for the day, lunch at 2 pm, dinner at 6 pm and bedtime at 10 pm. Obviously there will be small tweaks depending on what you both do but everything has to go through Caitlyn first. The reason for her absolute strictness on this is fear of what might happen if she does not abide by it. You could easily slip from her fingertips, she also wants to be the best caretaker for you and this is her way of proving it to you.
💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 Fortunately, if you continue keep being good and stay out of troubles way she will eventually settle down! Things will be a lot more relaxed, she is still strict on making sure your health is well maintained though. But she'll let you stay up if you want, to a reasonable time of course. Or you can sleep in! As long as she gets cuddles in return. Ugh.
💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 Honestly you'd probably get bored often, especially with Caitlyn's job. So she tends to spend as much time with you as possible.
💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 She likes to teach you things! From piano lessons, painting and simply reading together. You might not be that willing at first but your boredom gets to you so often that you eventually accept those activities with her. Caitlyn thinks of it as bonding.
💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 She also loves to pamper you, dressing you up in fancy clothing and dresses or having you try delicious pastries. If you have a sweet tooth then you're in heaven! On calm days, you both will drink tea while reading.
💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 Her punishments vary, often if you are simply acting out as she likes to call it, she'll simply restrain you or drug you with a light sedative.
💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 For more severe offenses, like trying to escape or hurt Caitlyn, etc. She will not be happy. She'll restrain you, guide you away from whatever it is you're doing or stop you from trying to hurt her, etc and then she'll lecture you. Like some child. An unequal. You have to maintain eye contact with her too because if you don't she will grab your chin roughly or snatch your hair.
💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 I can't really see Caitlyn letting you get away with things too easily, this girl holds a grudge so when you mess up it will take even longer to regain her trust back. No matter if you prove yourself or your behavior is as pristine as can be, she will question and look at you suspiciously. She will only relax when she is 100% sure nothing of the sort will happen again.
💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 She will put you in a guest room and lock you inside, tying you up inside for a couple days until her initial anger wears off. During that time she'll bring you food or anything essential of course, she will also recite the rules of the house over and over, making sure you understand them and the consequences.
💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 If you're a particularly resistant darling then I am afraid things will not go well for you.. you can only disobey Caitlyn a handful of times before she has to do something about it. Permanently.
💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 She will straight up either break your legs so you cannot walk ever again or amputate them. You will need her constantly and she loves it. At this point she has no sympathy for you, at least not in the real way. She pities you but in her mind you made her do this. Why couldn't you just obey her and live her domestic fantasy?
💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 "This is your fault, darling."
art credit: @/kulnifer on twt
#yandere#yandere headcanons#arcane#yandere drabble#yandere hcs#yandere caitlyn#yandere caitlyn kiramman#yandere arcane#caitlyn kiramman#caitlyn arcane#caitlyn x reader#yan caitlyn#yan caitlyn x reader#yandere caitlyn x reader#fem reader#wlw writing
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Princess Treatment
Surprise! @almostempty I’m your secret santa!!! I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it(:
Dave York x Nanny!reader x Frankie Morales
Warnings: 18+, SMUT. We’ve got infidelity (dave is married w/kids hence the need for a nanny) threesome, two splash’s of cuck, a small side of pre ejaculation, double penetration, sprinkle of hidden camera, a facial and I think I got everything. Not beta’d, lightly proofed by me. All mistakes are mine.
Wc: 3663
And now, time for the main event
Good ole suburbia. Home sweet home. Perfectly built houses lined up and down the street, all filled with perfect little families. Well behaved children played in the front yards. Neighbors would throw bbq’s in the summer and invite everyone over. Wife’s sending their husbands off to work in the morning. Picture perfect. Of course it’s all a facade. The big blue house tucked back in the cul de sac is home to the York family. Dave and his wife Carol and their two daughters Molly and Alice. To the outside world, they are a beautiful family. Doting father of two with a government job and subservient wife who takes care of the kids and keeps the house clean and dinner on the table by 5 oclock sharp every night. They hired you about a year ago as a live in nanny. Dave is frequently going on business trips and Carol decided she wanted to go back to work and she would need the help with the girls. They were a lovely couple when you first interviewed. You always felt a more warm welcome from Dave than Carol. It was like she had a bad taste in her mouth around you.
You tried your best to ignore the weird vibes you got from her since you were mostly around her on a daily basis. For the most part it wasn’t that bad and you got paid a very pretty penny too which absolutely helped. About a month into living at the York house, you accidentally overheard Dave and Carol arguing. They were trying to keep it hush but you could make out that Carol didn’t like that Dave paid you as much as he did. It seemed like she was overall just bothered by your presence. After that you kinda just kept your head down and did everything expected of you and kept to yourself. You were in charge of getting the girls up in the morning and on the school bus, getting them off the bus in the afternoon and getting them to all their extracurriculars. Not too hard.
After a full year being the York’s nanny, you’ve grown quite close to Molly and Alice. You and Carol are cordial. And then there’s Dave. If tall, mysterious and handsome were an actual person, it would be Dave. He has this aura about him. You could never fully explain it but you could feel it. When he was at home, you felt safe but also felt like you could never shake the feeling that his eyes were always on you somehow. Even when he was away, you could still feel his eyes on you but it wasn’t as strong as when he was home. You’ll never forget the day you caught him blatantly staring down your shirt. You had been wearing a simple black tshirt with a v neck. When you had caught him staring you couldn’t help but be shocked and he just smirked at you as if to say “Yea I’m looking and what are you gonna do about it.” That night you gave into your deepest desire and you got yourself off multiple times thinking of Dave. Your poor fingers were cramped but you kept going. You’d been attracted to him since day 1 but you buried it deep due to the whole he’s a married man thing. You thought of his thick fingers fucking you, how he’d feel coming up behind you, bending you over and just making you take every inch of his dick. You fantasized him using you whenever, wherever. You came thinking about how good he’d feel as you cockwarmed him after a long day at the office.
There was a change in the air the next morning after this. It was a Sunday, which is your off day. You woke up around 6:30am, rolled out of bed and into the shower before getting dressed in a simple, cute black tshirt dress. As you walked down the stairs and towards the kitchen, you noticed it was quiet. Quieter than normal for a Sunday morning in a household with two kids. No cartoons playing, no toys going off, no arguing over who’s turn it is to play with whatever the girls are currently obsessed with. As you rounded the corner, you saw Dave sitting at the kitchen table, wearing a dark blue t-shirt and grey sweatpants with his hair still tousled from sleep.
“Good morning sleeping beauty, I know todays your day off but Carol decided to take the girls to go visit her parents last night so it’s just the two of us today.”
“Oh okay I was curious about the quiet.” You said with a soft giggle as you smiled at Dave before looking down at your feet. As hot as Dave is, it’s hard for you to hold eye contact with him for long. He has a strong, intimidating stare.
Dave goes to stand up and walks over to where your standing,
“Please, help yourself to anything in here. I’m sure you probably know what’s in here more than I do,” he chuckled, “if you need me I’ll be in my office.”
Looking up at him, you gulped and nodded, “Thank you Mr. York.”
Dave’s hand comes up to your face, his thumb and fore finger gently grab your chin as he makes you look at him.
“It’s Dave, sweet girl.”
“Dave” you repeat in a whisper. Knees weak from the proximity to your boss.
He flashes you a toothy smile and a wink before dropping his hand and stepping to the side to get around you to leave the kitchen.
The rest of the morning moves rather quietly into the afternoon when you hear a truck roar into the driveway. You sneak a peak out your bedroom window to see Dave’s friend, Frankie Morales, step out of his truck and make his way to the door on the side of the house that leads down into the basement. You’ve met Frankie a couple of times before. Old military buddy of Dave’s, pretty cute, single father of one. He doesn’t intimidate you like Dave does. He has a softer look, one that makes you wanna cook him meals and surprise him with head after work. You get the vibe he wouldn’t be the type to be overly dominant in the bedroom and on occasion that he does, he feels bad and apologizes immediately after. You like that though, you have a soft spot for men with a tough exterior that are really just big softies.
About an hour has passed since Frankie came over. You start to feel hungry so you decide to go see what Dave would like for dinner. As you go downstairs into the basement, you could hear music playing and the clank of balls being shot into the pockets of the pool table.
As you step off the last step before you even have time to make your presence known, both men stop what they’re doing and look up at you.
“Well speak of the devil, we were just talking about you princess. You’ve met my buddy Frankie before. Come on over, don’t be shy.” Dave has both hands on the pool table as he slightly leans over it. Frankie’s standing next to him, holding a pool stick. You cross the distance from the steps over to the pool table as you nibble on your bottom lip.
You stand across from the men and give them a soft smile as Dave picks up his stick and comes over by you. He lays his stick on the table just so and crouches down, getting eye level with the ball right before he pulls back and lets the stick shoot forward. His target falls into the corner pocket.
He looks up at you, smirking,
“You know how to play sweet girl?”
You shake your head no as Frankie comes over, now sandwiched between the two men.
“Here take my stick.” Frankie hands his stick over to you. As you grab it from him, his big hand covers yours as he reaches behind you and grabs your other hand and places it higher up on the stick. His broad frame covering you as he leans in closer, his face now next to yours.
“Bend down, you wanna be more eye level with the stick to see what angle it’ll hit the ball.”
“Okay” you say softly before taking your eyes off of him and bending over. Your eyes go wide as you feel his bulge press against your ass.
“Don’t overthink it too much or you’ll overshoot.” Dave’s smooth voice interrupted.
You can feel the heat of Dave’s body right next to you with Frankie’s body practically swallowing you whole. You try hard to focus on the game in front of you but in reality, you are zeroed in on the two men. Frankie moves the stick in your hands, you can feel it glide in between your fingers that are covered by his. Before you even realized, the stick shoots forward. The sound of the ball getting smacked and rolling into a pocket snapped you out of this trance you seem to be in.
“You know I was just telling Frankie here a funny story. I saw something last night and,” he chuckles, “I think you’d get a good laugh out of it too. Here,” he slides his phone into your line of sight, a video playing. The video shows a woman laying on a bed, legs spread as her fingers move in a circle on her clit. Her head thrown back, a breathy moan “oh Dave oh fuck me dave please”
Something about this is eerily familiar. After a few seconds it dawns on you.
Your eyes go wide and your face heats up as you watch you finger fuck yourself on your boss’ phone.
You can feel Frankie smile behind you as he takes the stick out of your hand and lays it on the table but still continues to stand behind you.
“Wanna tell me what this is about sweet girl?”
“I - I I I’m s- so sorry Mr York I - I’m not I promise I didn’t mean -“
Dave clicks his tongue as Frankie lets out a chuckle.
“Don’t try and lie to me. I watched you try and finger your poor abused little pussy all night long. Is that any way to treat her? I’m right down the hall baby. Could’ve sent me a text and told me to meet you in the bathroom since you were so needy.”
Your mouth dropped open, absolutely gobsmacked at what he just said. Frankie now fully grinding into your ass as he giggles at the scene in front of him. Dave gets up and walks over to the couch and sits down. Frankie follows his lead and sits on the chair that sits to the side, half facing the couch. Frozen in spot, it takes Dave to give you a come here movement with his fingers before you feel your legs carry your body over to where the men are sitting.
“Come sit on my lap honey. Let’s talk.”
You follow his orders, a part of you terrified your boss knows your deepest darkest secret and the other half hoping they both fuck your brains out. You move on autopilot as you turn to sit on his knee, doing your best to not put a lot of weight on his leg. Dave quickly puts an end to that as he grabs you by the hips and pulls you back on his lap. Your thin dress and his sweatpants leave nothing to the imagination. You can feel his hard on, plain as day.
“I’ve told you before, no need to be shy sweetheart. Spread those pretty legs of yours.”
You lean back against his chest as you look at him shyly before opening your legs for him. His big hands run up and down your thighs before pushing up your dress, revealing your soaked panties.
“Damn baby all this for me?” He says, eyes fixed on your pussy as he pulls them to the side.
“You don’t mind if he watches right?”
“N no”
Dave gives you a big grin, “Good.” His eyes go back down to watch as his fingers go up your wet seam. You watch his fingers as he slowly spreads your lips open, gently exploring your pussy.
“How many fingers you think she can take?”
Before you can even answer, Dave plunges two thick fingers deep inside you illicitly a gasp from you. His fingers alone are so thick, you feel yourself being stretched wide open on them. He moves them in and out at a slow pace as his other hand moves up to grope your tit.
Your eyes flutter shut as he keeps fingering you, pushing in and out, filling you up.
You manage to open your eyes and look over at Frankie. He was leaned back in the chair, manspreading as he palmed his hard cock.
Dave noticed you watching Frankie, taking his fingers out, “Frank, come here. Let’s see how much this tight little pussy can take.”
Frankie gets up and sits next to you and Dave before sliding his hand up your thigh,
“I don’t know Dave, I don’t think she can handle both of us.”
A horny demon seems to take over you and you quickly shake your head yes,
“I I can try”
For as eager as you are, you are equally nervous. You’ve never taken on two dicks at once but holy fuck are you turned on and wanna try.
Both men just smile, more so to themselves as Dave’s fingers pull one side of your pussy open and Frankie’s pulls the other side open. Dave’s the first to plunge a finger in and Frankie follows. They find a nice rhythm as their fingers move in and out. You throw your head back and let out a deep moan that you’ve been trying to hold back. Dave bites the side of your neck as he sinks another finger in. Your pussy convulses around the thick digits. Frankie pulls the top of your dress down and pulls your tit out, leaning down and taking your nipple in his mouth. You can’t help but put your arm around his head and hold him close as he sucks your breast. The feeling of both of their fingers moving in tandem has you on the verge of tears.
“Oh fuck look at that baby, taking four fucking fingers. Soaking our fucking hands, goddamn baby that’s it.” As soon as Dave said that, you managed your best to look down and they both had two fingers plunged deep inside you. You couldn’t tear your eyes away when you felt Dave’s other hand press on your lower stomach. It was like a light switch. You somehow felt them even deeper. The pressure from that and from their fingers moving amplified. Tears escaped your eyes, you couldn’t take much more. This deep build up inside of you clawing its way out. You had started to squirm, your ass now rubbing up and down Dave’s lap. Dave’s breath hitched in your ear.
“Breath baby, just breath, you’re doing so good. Come on breath with me.” Dave managed to get out in a hurried whisper, his own voice giving him away. Seeing you like this has him on the verge of his own orgasm. The friction of your ass rubbing against him added to the sight of you and knowing he’s the reason your falling apart.
A sob wracked through your entire body as your orgasm crashed into you. Your hips practically levitating
Frankie and Dave both watched as you gushed out, practically pushing their fingers out. Dave’s own moans finally coming out as his dick starts to spurt cum inside his sweat pants. His chest heaving as he pants in your ear, holding you close to him.
“Fuck that was hot.” Frankie said breathlessly before leaning in and claiming your lips with his. Your cheeks were wet from the tears as you still felt disoriented but managed to kiss him back with as much fierceness as he had.
Frankie grabbed you by the hips and pulled you on top of him. Your own body still trembling from the aftershocks of that mind blowing moment.
Frankie moved your hips up and down, causing you to grind against him while he continued to claim your lips with his. After a few moments he broke the kiss and made quick work of taking his dick out.
Out of breath and just barely getting ahold of yourself again, you look down at his throbbing cock as he gives it a few pumps before he’s pulling you back close again. You put your arms on his shoulders as he does the work for you, putting his dick right where you want him.
You’re so wet, you slide down his cock easily but the delicious burn of the stretch still makes your jaw drop as it takes your breath away.
Frankie’s head rolls back as his eyes close, feeling every inch of your pussy as he uses you like a fleshlight. Moving your hips up and down as he fucks you slowly. He knows he has a big dick and he doesn’t want to hurt you by going hard too fast. He takes his time and builds up speed before wrapping his arms around you and jack hammering his cock up into you. You collapse, hanging onto him as he makes you take his girthy dick. The two of you so lost in what you were doing, completely forgetting Dave sitting right next to you.
But Dave is very much enjoying the show. He’s pulled out his own cock using his cum as lube, stroking himself as he watches Frankie fuck you.
“Fffuckk that’s it baby, god look at you. What a fucking whore. I wish you could see how you look right now, fucking beautiful.” Dave starts to ramble as he works himself up again. His voice startles you a little as you try to lift your head and look over at him.
Frankie slows his thrusts down, grabbing your ass checks as he rolls his hips up. Grinding deep inside you.
Dave stands up and hets behind you. His big hand pushes on your back causing you to fall forward on Frankie.
You feel his finger probe your asshole, just barely poking in before he sinks in to the knuckle. Your poor pussy starts to convulse on Frankie’s dick, getting even wetter.
“Don’t get scared now baby, you can take us.” Dave said as he starts to move his finger in and out. He bends forward a little before pursing his lips and spitting. A wet splat lands in between your cheeks as he takes his finger out to move it down to your hole. Without notice he sticks a second finger in, slowly working you open. Frankie’s holding you tight to him, not moving inside you as his friend stretch’s you open so you can take both cocks at once.
Your face buried in Frankie’s neck, squeezing your eyes shut as this amazing, full feeling washes over you. It’s so much having a cock in your pussy and feeling his fingers in your ass.
After a few minutes of getting you ready, Dave takes his fingers out. Spits on his hand to add to his already cum lubed dick. Guiding his cock to your back entrance, he slowly pushes the tip in. You gasp as all the air leaves your body. Clinging to Frankie as you try to accommodate both men.
“You’re doing so good baby, that’s it. Fucking beautiful.” Dave grunts out as he pushes all the way in. Once his cock is buried in your ass, you can feel him throb. Dave reaches up and gathers your hair in a ponytail before giving you an experimental grind. Slowly moving back out, he starts to fuck your ass. Frankie begins to thrust up into you. The two men quickly work up a rhythm, both cocks moving in and out, fucking you. Dave tugs on your hair, causing you to lift your head off Frankie’s shoulder and bend back. Loud moans tumble from your lips.
“There she is, look at you taking us sweet girl. Taking it so well, fuck.”
“She’s so wet Dave, I think she likes being stuffed with two dicks. Don’t you baby? Such a slutty little pussy, needs two men to fuck her properly huh?” Frankie groans as your pussy answers for you, tightening on his cock.
A symphony of grunts and moans fill the air, balls slapping against skin, cocks sliding in and out of your holes.
“Frank, I think we should give our girl a nice facial. To thank her for letting us use her pretty holes.”
“No better way to show our appreciation Dave.”
Dave pulls out and pulls you off of Frankie. Doing his best to gently guide you to your knees. Your own legs jelly from the most intense fuck of your life.
Both men stand in front of you, jerking their cocks in your face as you stick your tongue out as far as you can. Dave and Frankie both tap the tip of their cocks on your tongue. Frankie starts to spurt cum first, painting your face with thick globs hitting above your eye and on your tongue. Dave cums next, his hitting you on your cheek and around your mouth. Frankie scoops a little off your face, putting it in your mouth. Closing your mouth around his digits to suck them clean.
“Thank you” you say with a smile and the little bit of air you have left in your lungs.
The men look down at you and smile. They are going to throughly enjoy having you around.
#pedrostoriesgift24#pedrostories#secret santa#Dave York#frankie morales#Dave x nanny x Frankie#dave york x reader#frankie x reader#smut#pedro pascal#pedro pascal characters
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JJK x Reader: Christmas Edition
Just a few headcannons for the holidays!
Characters: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, & Shoko
TW: FLUFF!
WC: 1.1k (short and sweet!)
A/n: Happy holidays everyone! Hope you all are having an amazing day and get to take time for yourselves. Thank you for all the love this year, appreciate you all!
Gojo
Gojo is absolutely terrible at wrapping presents, and he knows it. He either gets them wrapped at the department store (when available) or just throws everything into festive bags with bows slapped on top. He’s the type to put way too much tape on a box if he does attempt wrapping—it’s endearing, really.
He loves spending Christmas with your family. It’s not that he dislikes his own—it’s just… complicated. Being surrounded by warmth and laughter is something he craves, even if he doesn’t say it outright. He’s like a big kid, buying way too many gifts for everyone but not knowing them well enough to make them personal. So instead, he turns it into a family-wide white elephant exchange, just to see everyone smile. (Also likes to playfully gossip with your family about you, LOVES to see the baby pictures, steals them and takes em home)
What he treasures most, though, is spending time with you. He thrives on simple moments—baking cookies together (where he definitely makes a mess), snuggling under a blanket to watch cheesy holiday movies, or stealing kisses under the mistletoe when no one’s looking. If he’s called out on a mission, his frustration is palpable, but he always makes it up to you with warm pastries, hot coffee, and an even warmer smile the next morning.
When it comes to gifts, Gojo is surprisingly sentimental. Handmade presents? He melts. There’s something about knowing you put effort and love into it that makes his heart ache in the best way. And when you both have kids one day, he’s all-in on the Santa act. He’ll dress up, bellow “Ho, ho, ho!” with way too much enthusiasm, and take an embarrassing amount of photos to show off to his students. Watching your kids’ faces light up on Christmas morning? That’s his favorite part of the holiday. He absolutely melts when they make him things, best believe he is wearing that macaroni necklace.
Geto
Geto doesn’t trust anyone else to wrap his gifts. He’s so meticulous about it—crisp corners, perfectly aligned patterns, and just the right amount of ribbon. It’s almost frustrating how good he is at it. (If you wrap something bad, like a single wrinkle bad, best believe that present is tucked in the very BACK of the tree and he just smiles when you ask about it)
He’s also the best gift giver. The kind who remembers that one thing you mentioned in passing months ago. Need a specific book? Done. Want to try crochet? Here’s an entire set, complete with a personalized guide he wrote himself. It’s never about the cost with him—it’s about the thought behind it.
Christmas Eve with him is peaceful. After the twins are fast asleep, you and Geto sit by the tree, wrapping gifts together. He’s quietly focused, assembling the big surprise gift for the girls—a playset, a dollhouse, something that requires way too many tiny screws. You laugh at how serious he gets, his brows furrowed as he carefully places every sticker. Between tasks, you talk. About life, about dreams, about how far you’ve come together. He enjoys the little life you both created. His little hallmark movie.
If your family is welcoming, he’s happy to visit with the girls. He’s a little reserved at first but softens quickly when he sees how much they’re loved. Still, his favorite Christmases are the intimate ones, just the four of you. The girls bring out a side of him that’s so gentle, so tender. He wants to give them the childhood he never had—filled with warmth and joy.
On Christmas morning, he’s in the kitchen flipping pancakes shaped like stars, hearts, and (attempted) snowmen. His laugh is soft but full when the girls giggle at his less successful attempts. The whole day is dedicated to family activities—decorating cookies, building gingerbread houses, and playing with new toys. At the end of the day, when the house is quiet again, he pulls you close, brushing a kiss to your temple. “Thank you,” he whispers.
Would be the type to propose on Christmas, he'd hide it in the tree or something. Asking you to come look at some random ornament only for you to look back at him on one knee. (Would do this when the girls are little so you both can have the perfect little flower girls)
Nanami
Nanami doesn’t mind wrapping gifts, but he just doesn’t have the time. The department store option is quick and efficient, so he takes it without a second thought.
He’s incredibly thoughtful when it comes to gifting. He always finds something that feels just right—a piece of jewelry that matches your style, a book you’ve been eyeing, or tickets to a show you casually mentioned once. He follows the “one big gift, one small gift” rule, careful not to go overboard, but everything he chooses feels like it was made for you.
Your family adores him. Even if you aren’t married yet, they’ve already claimed him. His stocking hangs next to yours, and your relatives fight over who gets to sit next to him at dinner. (Everybody wonders how you snagged such a good man) It’s heartwarming to see him so at ease, his usual stoicism softened by the warmth of your family’s love.
As for receiving gifts, Nanami values thoughtfulness over extravagance. He’s the type to sit quietly while you explain why you chose his gift, his gaze steady and full of affection. “You’re so thoughtful,” he says, his voice low and warm, “it means more to me than you know.” He's not the type to show emotion during gifts however so sometimes he has you questioning whether he actually likes it or not.
On Christmas morning, over breakfast, he lets himself dream aloud. “I can just imagine little ones running into the room, waking us up with their excitement,” he says, his lips curving into a rare, tender smile. When you do have kids, he’s exactly as you imagined—a doting father who loves every chaotic, joy-filled moment. Watching them tear into their presents, hearing their laughter, and cuddling up as a family on Christmas Eve—it’s everything to him. So much that he'll ask for another next Christmas.
Shoko
Shoko isn’t big on holidays, but she’ll indulge for you. The festive spirit isn’t something she naturally gravitates toward, but seeing you light up makes it worth it.
She doesn’t wrap gifts—it’s just not her thing. Instead, she hands you an envelope with an experience inside—a luxurious trip, an all-inclusive cruise, or a spa day. “Merry Christmas,” she says with a smirk, pressing a kiss to your lips.
She’s not big on gifts for herself, but she treasures whatever you give her, whether it’s a handmade scarf or a store-bought trinket. She’ll smile, soft and genuine, and pull you into a hug. “You spoil me,” she murmurs, but there’s nothing but gratitude in her voice.
Shoko loves quality time. She’s not much of a homebody, so she’ll take you out to see Christmas lights, holding your hand the entire time. She’s quiet but content, stealing glances at you like you’re the most beautiful thing in the world.
Kids aren’t something she sees for herself. After everything she’s witnessed, the idea of raising a potential sorcerer terrifies her. Instead, the two of you pour your love into the students, making sure they feel cared for during the holidays.
On cold winter mornings, she’s impossible to get out of bed. She wraps herself around you, burying her face in your neck, and groans when you suggest getting up. “Five more minutes,” she pleads, her voice muffled against your skin. It’s in these quiet, intimate moments that she lets her walls down completely, because you make her feel human, despite everything she has to do.
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk gojo#jjk geto#geto x reader#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#geto suguru#shoko x reader#shoko leiri#nanami x reader#kento nanami#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jjk nanami#jjk shoko#jjk fluff
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Merry Christmas, baby.
Pairing: Marcus Pike x f!reader Rating: just a little tiny bit of smut so still +18 but it’s mostly a huge pile of angst and fluff soooo Words Count: 10669 😵💫 Tags: POV second person, reader wears dresses, skirts, blouses and heels, she uses make up, she’s a journalist and a writer, no physical description of her is given besides having hair, angst, fluff, friends to lovers, slow burn, loss of a parent, infidelity, divorce, mention of food, alcohol consumption, both reader and Pike are bad at feelings, swearing, slurs, dirty talk, quarrels, reconciliations, funeral, sharing a bed, kissing, sad thoughts, casual encounters, mention of coffee, mention of spring break activities, geography probably a bit random (but I looked at the maps, don't jump down my throat, I did research and I've actually been to Boston many years ago, I tried my best lol), brief mention of Teresa. I hope I haven't forgotten anything, if so I'll add it immediately. A/N: Written for @pedrostories Secret Santa event, hello @letsgobarbs, I’m your Secret Santa! 🤶 Happy Christmas Eve, I hope you'll have a wonderful holiday season! 🎄 I hope you enjoy this story and I hope you find the angst, yearning and pining you wanted. Among the characters you had indicated as favorites there was Pike and I liked the idea of trying to write him for the first time, he is so sweet and cute and he deserves to be happy, I hope I gave him an ending worthy of him 🥹 I apologize if you find any mistakes, English is not my first language and I don't have a beta so I did it all with just one pair of stupid and tired eyes 😵💫
A huge thanks goes to all the lovely people who supported me through the process while I was having a full crisis about everything in this fic 😂 @baronessvonglitter @almostempty @arcanefox207 @joelmillerisapunk I love you all, happy holidays 🥰
1990
“So what do you think?”
“Um...you're good” You've just heard the ugliest Take on Me cover ever, but you can't tell the guy standing in front of you and looking at you with hopeful eyes.
Marcus is your best friend, you've known him for a couple of years, since both of you were two dorky freshmen at your new school. You were looking for the literature room and wandering lost in the hallways when Marcus asked if you needed help. You bonded right away because you didn't know anyone else, you had just moved to Sacramento because of your father's job and he was from Texas, so it had seemed natural to lean on each other.
Over time you had become such good friends that he had met your parents, he would often stay for dinner, and your dad would let him use your garage to rehearse with his band.
Marcus had put up flyers at school and enlisted two other boys, Timmy and Dave, who became the guitarist and keyboardist of Rocket Baby Doll. The name of the band was terrible, they were terrible, but you had never had the courage to tear them down in the face of Marcus's enthusiasm, he was sure that by continuing to rehearse they would make great progress.
With his smooth talk, Marcus had managed to convince the committee to let them play at the freshmen's Christmas dance.
“You'll see that one day we'll be on the cover of Rolling Stone,” Marcus joked. Or at least you hoped he was joking because otherwise you wouldn't know how to talk him out of it.
Marcus was a dreamer and he liked to do it big. He wanted to be a musician, or maybe an FBI agent, he told you. Two careers that had nothing to do with each other, but you knew that if anyone could afford to have ambitions it was him. Marcus was tenacious, persistent, dedicated, and never afraid to work hard to get what he wanted. He certainly wasn't going to end up on the cover of Rolling Stone, but in your heart you were certain he was going to accomplish something important.
He was the kind of boy mothers liked, in fact yours loved him. When you needed math tutoring, he would come to your house totally for free and explain whatever you didn’t understand.
When Molly Preston wanted to exclude you from the winter dance because her ex-boyfriend, Ryder, had asked you out, he had been the one to give her a speech.
When you had a bad day Marcus would take you to get your favorite ice cream, you would talk for hours, and in the end he was the only one who could cheer you up.
Whatever problems you had, Marcus was there for you landing an helping hand.
You knew your mother not too secretly hoped you would get together but it never happened, Marcus was your friend, just a great friend.
“Come on, my mom made cookies for everyone,” you told him as he continued to fantasize about what you might do. You would be their manager and you would both become rich and famous. He just couldn't keep his feet on the ground, even though he was a very good student and even had better grades than you.
You were 17 years old, your whole lives ahead of you, and you hoped that you will remain friends for many years to come.
_____________________________________________
1993
“What do you mean there is only one room available! We had booked two!”
Marcus had yelled at the front desk of a motel where you stopped for the night.
The owner, a rather creepy guy with a long scar on his right cheek, slumps in his shoulders, heedless “If you want number 12 is free, otherwise you can take your asses somewhere else for all I care.”
Marcus was fuming.
It was spring break, any hotel was totally booked, and the possibilities were already significantly reduced given your pockets.
You didn't even want to come; you had just broken up with Derek, your college boyfriend, and were back at your parents' house with the intention of spending your vacation there healing your wounds. Vegetating on the couch, reading books, watching movies, just relaxing. That was what you wanted to do. But Marcus had insisted, “Erik, Alice, Kate and Robert are in San Diego, let's join them!”
You had shaken your head and declined “No way, I've seen enough wild college parties and besides, I'm not really in the mood.”
“Oh come on, you don't want to spend Spring Break crying over that jerk,” he had said, shrugging and looking at you with his big brown puppy-dog eyes.
“Marcus, I really don't feel like it.”
“Come on, please do it for me! You'll see we'll have fun, they're nice!” Surrounding yourself with drunk and stoned 20-year-olds was the least of your desires.
But on the other hand you felt you couldn't say no to him, it had been months since you had seen each other, your relationships had been reduced to long letters and phone calls telling each other about each other's schools.
You had chosen different colleges, Marcus had been accepted at Berkeley in California and you were at Boston University. You had changed coast, climate, everything. You were content but adjusting the first months had not been easy, you felt homesick and you missed your best friend. You were happy for him, you had known since your senior year that you were going to separate but that hadn't made it easy for you.
You had only seen each other in person at Thanksgiving.
He had been forced to go to his relatives in Nevada for Christmas.
So you got dragged down to San Diego, because deep down Marcus was right, brooding all vacation about the relationship with Derek would not be good for you. You had had other guys before him but Derek had been special, until you found out he was cheating on you. You cried for hours on the phone with Marcus and he listened to you the whole time so maybe you owed him a little too.
After insisting on getting at least a room refund, Marcus had turned to you displeased “apparently we have no other choice.”
“We'll adjust” you had smiled, but you couldn't deny that you were a little nervous.
Once in the room he, too, seemed self-conscious.
There was a double bed with a hideous floral bedspread in the middle of the room, brownish carpeting on the floor, dingy pictures hanging on the walls, and an old dresser on the opposite side of the bed with a rickety TV on it.
A smell of cheap deodorant with a musty undertone wafted around. It was the worst room I had ever set foot in, but at this point there was nothing you could do but make it okay. Sleeping in the car didn't seem so appealing.
You had set your bags down and looked at each other awkwardly “This room is awful,” Marcus had whispered, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand “I'm sorry, it didn't look that bad from the brochure.”
“It's not your fault, I bet those pictures were taken at least 20 years ago” you had laughed ”it will do for one night”
You had retrieved your pajamas from the suitcase and went to the bathroom. The light blue tiles made it look like a hospital, there was an old plastic curtain in the shower and the sink looked like it had been through a war but at least it looked clean. There was a strong smell of disinfectant that made you a little nauseous. You had changed quickly and returned to your room to Marcus who was sitting on the bed intent on calling his parents “Yes mom, everything is fine, we will be back tomorrow. Yes, sure, don't worry I'll definitely say hello to her, she's in her room now” You had noticed that he had not said anything about your misadventure, you had sat down smiling on the opposite side of the bed trying to be silent.
Marcus had rolled his eyes closing the call “she is so old-fashioned.”
You had laughed “I find her lovely”
Marcus had chuckled “we'd better sleep, we have a lot of driving tomorrow. Are you okay with that side?”
“Yes, it’s fine” you had nodded ”however I'd rather get this bedspread out of the way, it gives me nightmares even when awake”
Marcus had observed it agreeing that yes, it was rather eerie.
You had taken it off and laid it on the dresser before slipping under cold, scratchy and wrinkled sheets.
You looked at each other and burst out laughing, the situation was comical to say the least. “God, I think I won't forget this bed for a long time,” Marcus had said.
“It feels like being in a burlap sack.” You had laughed.
“Could you not squirm like that?”
“Sorry, I'm just looking for ways to be comfortable,” you had said, ”Mattress is lumpy.”
You had laid on your side with your back to him and closed your eyes, trying to sleep.
“So, did you have a good time?” you had heard Marcus whisper.
“Yes” you had replied “thank you” And it was true, his friends were really nice. You had bonded with the girls and exchanged addresses and phone numbers “you were right, I needed a vacation”
“I know, I'm always right” he had sentenced from the other end of the bed.
You had turned to look at him "oh sure, like the other night when we ended up at that beach party and you said it was allowed and then we had to run away because the police were coming?”
“It was just a little misjudgment!” He retorted.
You had burst out laughing again “come on, sleep, Mr I know everything”
Marcus had turned off the lamp on the bedside table, next to the phone with which he had just called his mother “Hey...I need to tell you something” you had heard him say.
“What?” the tone had suddenly changed and you felt confused, you looked over your shoulder at him in the dark.
“I kissed Alice the other night” he seemed awkward in telling you and you didn't understand why.
“Oh. Well, good for you. She's a lovely girl” he was your friend, you were happy for him.
If it weren't for the fact that you secretly hoped he would kiss you. You'd been thinking about it for a few days, ever since you'd seen him come out of the water while you were at the beach.
It had seemed to you that everything had started moving in slow motion, your eyes glued to his tanned skin, to his broad shoulders, to the way the water slid over his chest in little droplets that died on the waistband of his swimsuit. It was a feeling you had never experienced before in five years of knowing him. You had never seen Marcus as anything more than a friend, but in that moment, with his hair disheveled, his skin wet, a smile plastered on his face as he told you and the others that ocean was great, he had seemed like a vision, and you had felt your cheeks heat up.
Where on earth that attraction came from you didn't know, but it had hit you hard and clear, like a bump on the head that had suddenly awakened you. You had convinced yourself that your brain was doing this to protect you from painful memories with Derek, lingering on your closest friend who had never let you down. Your trust in men was at its lowest, and Marcus had always reassured you, kept you out of trouble, and he was most reliable guy you had ever known.
He said he would do something and he always, unfailingly did it. You could not say the same about Derek or any other guy you had ever been with.
You had tried to chase that feeling away, burying it in the corner of your mind for all the following days; you didn't want to ruin the friendship between you, and you were pretty sure he didn't feel the same way about you.
Sure, you thought you kissed him on your 18s birthday while you were drunk, but the next morning you were so ashamed that you hadn't even told him about it, pretended you didn't remember anything and that it had never happened. Marcus had done the same, and everything had ended there. Two years had passed since that night, you had gone to college, you had both had more or less long relationships.
That one kiss was now so far away that you had listed it among “once-in-a-lifetime mistakes.”
"I wanted to tell you, that's it. Friends tell each other everything, right?"
“Yes, of course, you can tell me anything, I’m happy for you” you replied
You had listened to Marcus talk about the girls he liked dozens of times and you had never cared, you would have certainly forgotten it, it was just a passing crush, you told yourself. That annoyance you felt, that bitter taste in your throat, would disappear after a night's sleep. Your friendship was more important, you wouldn't have ruined it just because your brain had thought it interesting to make it something more.
Yet when you had tried to sleep all you had seen was Marcus kissing Alice. You had not seen them, fortunately, but it was not a hard scene to imagine, and unfortunately it was now implanted in your brain. His strong arms holding her, his soft lips resting on hers, her surrounding his neck with her arms, her pelvis rubbing against his. Suddenly you couldn't stand it. You had narrowed your eyes, cursing your creative mind, grunting in frustration.
“Hey, is everything okay?” had asked Marcus from the other side of the bed.
You had lied, of course, but you had kept brooding until you fell asleep exhausted by the workings of your brain.
In the morning you had woken up confused, not at all rested, and in his arms.
Your face was resting on his chest next to your hand. How had you ended up there like that? You didn't know. You felt like you didn't know anything anymore.
He was blissfully asleep. He seemed unaware of anything as your throat was dry, your head ached, and your pussy throbbed. Yes, throbbing, desperately. The warmth of his body, the scent of his skin, that knowledge you felt inside that this was exactly what you wanted and you couldn't even quantify how long you had wanted it.
And the panic that had seized you immediately afterward. You were convinced it was a mistake, the most terrible mistake you could make. So why did it feel so right? Why did his body feel like it was made for you? Oh no, no you couldn't allow that. Certainly he had no idea whatsoever about the situation, there was no way he was aware and let you do it, it was all your fault.
You were going to ruin everything, your friendship, your relationship with the one man who really seemed to understand and support you. And for what? To fuck him once? It wasn't going to work between you romantically. You were going to have to spend two more years away seeing each other only during the holidays to begin with, and then you were both stubborn, too proud...no, it was wrong, you didn't care what your body told you, you had to let your brain prevail.
You slowly slipped away, back to your side of the bed, practically holding your breath, cursing yourself and your heart that wouldn't stop hammering in the middle of your chest.
He had woken up shortly after, acted as usual, getting up, stretching in his T-shirt and basketball shorts, mumbled good morning to you and locked himself in the bathroom.
Your eyes had slid lasciviously over his body, stealing glances of his exposed skin between his T-shirt and shorts, of his broad shoulders stretching the fabric, of his thighs...
All while you wanted to sink into a black hole and disappear forever. You sank your face into the pillow to keep yourself from screaming.
And what was worse was that you had to carry the burden of what you felt alone because the person you would normally talk to about it was the one you were longing for. Wonderful, a wonderful situation.
When he had come out of the bathroom, with his beautiful smile and that rough voice that he always had early in the morning you almost lost control. You were about to beg him to join you in bed. Ugh, your 20s, uncontrollable, stupid, senseless hormones.
“What are you waiting for? Come on, go get dressed, we have to leave,” he had told you, in the same friendly and vaguely mocking tone as always.
“Oh. yes, thank you, I promise I will be quick.” You had stammered.
You got up, grabbed some random clothes from your suitcase, your beauty case and went to the bathroom to shower and change. He would be ready in 10 minutes at most so he would always let you go to the bathroom first, to give you time to do your makeup and fix your hair. Marcus knew that about you, too, and he was okay with that.
You closed the door behind you, feeling the tears stinging your eyes. You had managed to hold them back until that moment, but in the shower, covered by his of the water, they had flowed copiously and salty down your cheeks.
____________________________________________
2000
“Hey! How are you! My goodness, long time no see!”
You had met him at the supermarket, as you were going around the shelves intent on shopping for your mother.
You were back at your parents' house for Thanksgiving with your husband, John.
The last person you thought you would see was him.
“Marcus!” you had squeaked.
“I am fine! How are you? And Danielle?”
Your mother had taken it upon herself to inform you that he had also married, had no children, and had become a detective.
“Danielle is just fine, she is right there down the aisle picking potatoes according to my mother's exact instructions,” he had rolled his eyes, chuckling.
Damn, you had thought, he's breathtakingly handsome.
You hoped that in all the years you had lost touch with each other he would have lost at least some of his hair like his father, but apparently he had not inherited that gene. His hair was thick and healthy as usual, he wore a gray T-shirt under a black leather jacket and a pair of dark blue jeans. You hated the way he could put on two random things and look so damn perfect while you felt like you had spent your whole life in front of your closet wondering what to wear. And even more you hated his smile, so friendly and sweet, that it hadn't changed at all.
He seemed genuinely glad to see you.
You had lost touch with each other after graduation, despite the advent of cell phones, computers, and email. Your friendship had survived handwritten letters, postcards, prepaid phone cards but still crumbled eventually. You were on the opposite coast, intent on your master's degree, dreaming of becoming a writer; he was hooked on a career in law enforcement.
The letters had become fewer and fewer, as had the phone calls, and eventually what was there had simply slipped away as the months passed, the commitments increased, and each of you tried to become the adult you had dreamed of being.
You had thought it was much better this way, you had stifled your feelings for him for another four years before accepting that nothing would ever happen. You had dated other guys in the meantime, but Marcus had always remained in your mind as the perfect guy you could never have. It was only when you had met John that you had allowed yourself to think that maybe it could work with someone who was not your old friend. He was understanding, sweet, supportive, present and caring with you. John was a really good guy and so you had finally decided to marry him. He had asked you one spring day at the Public Garden, while you were eating a lobster sandwich under a tree in front of the pond, watching the swans. Your offices were close by, so you tried to spend your lunch break together as often as you could. You had gotten a job at the Boston Globe, were in charge of the wedding column, and wrote romance novels in your spare time, sending manuscripts left and right in the hope that some editor would notice them. John was a stockbroker, pragmatic, punctual and very thorough in his work as much as he was sweet and attentive with you.
“How about we get married?” he simply had said to you, with his mouth full. You had laughed, thought he was joking, until you noticed his serious and hopeful look and exclaimed “oh my God, yes!” throwing your sandwich in the air and wrapping your arms around his neck. That was all you wished for. You had moved in together in a beautiful house downtown, not very big but lovely, you had fallen in love with it as soon as you saw it. It was bright and warm, the right place to start your life with John.
You had, of course, sent an invitation to Marcus as well, but he had declined, saying he was very busy with work. You had kind of tied it on your finger and so you had decided that he might as well get out of your life after all. Times change, people change, all I can do is move on and try to forget how I feel about him by devoting myself to my relationship with John, you thought.
Now that you had him in front of you again though, he looked the same as he always did, only grown. And your heart had skipped a beat the instant you recognized his voice greeting you.
“How long do you plan to stay?” you had asked out of pure courtesy.
“About a week, we were able to take a few days to relax a bit. We're always working like crazy, you know, we both needed to get away for a while. How about you?”
“Yes, us too, by the way if you remember Sunday is my father's birthday and my mother really wanted us to be there.”
“I guess. By the way, I'm sorry. My mother told me when we arrived.”
Your father had been ill for several months and unfortunately there was little left to do at that point. He was slowly fading away and it would probably be the last Thanksgiving you would spend together.
“I thank you. Oh here's John. John this is Marcus, an old friend of mine. Marcus, this is John, my husband.”
“Nice to meet you, Marcus,” John had said, shaking his hand.
“Honey, I'm done, shall we go?” had chirped Danielle's voice as she approached you.
“Yes love, but first let me introduce you to an old friend of mine and her husband” Marcus had told her softly.
“Oh it's you! Marcus has told me several times about you! It's nice to finally meet you in person.”
Danielle was beautiful, dark hair, blue eyes and delicate features, a little nose that looked as if it had been drawn by an artist, full lips, high cheekbones and a well-proportioned chin. Her voice was melodious and sweet and she looked at you with an excited and surprised expression, " He didn't tell me you were so pretty!"
“Oh, thank you, you are too,” you had said, slightly embarrassed by such kindness. At that point John had held you proudly, as if you were his greatest prize. His arm had wrapped around your waist, and his eyes looked at you lovingly "didn't she? I'm lucky that she married me."
Danielle had laughed graciously and shook his hand introducing herself, while you and Marcus looked at each other almost studying each other, as if you were both trying to figure out how happy you actually were in your marriages.
That habit of worrying about each other had not gone away; after all, you had been close friends for quite a few years, and your friendship had faded not because of a quarrel, but because of distance and becoming busy adults. And because you had to get over the crush you had on him, of course, but you had never told him that.
“Well, we have to go now, anyway come and see us if you can. My mother would love to see you again,” Marcus had said before offering to push the cart full of food that his wife had left beside you and start toward the checkouts.
“We'll try, thank you,” you had nodded. You definitely should have helped your mother, tried to soothe her at least a little from the strain of caring for your father 24/7; you didn't know how much more time would be left for other things.
You had watched them walk off together from behind, down the canned food aisle where you had retrieved the ready-made cranberry sauce you would never have time to prepare.
They were a good-looking couple, really, attractive, well-dressed, Danielle looking impeccable in a pair of jeans that bandaged her while highlighting her curves, a red blouse that matched her complexion, and a pair of vertiginous heels on which you didn't even know how to walk. She seemed to do it without any problem.
“We should go too, honey” John's voice had brought you back down to earth.
_________________________________________
Once home John had announced to your mother that you had met your old friend at the supermarket, and of course she was thrilled, “Oh, he's such a nice guy, I saw him and his wife the other day walking downtown, they are such a nice couple, aren't they?”
John had agreed, taking a beer from the fridge “really”
“Well, like you, of course” your mother had added, looking at you softly.
And it was true, you were fine with John, he was a good person, a hard worker, he treated you like a princess. What more could you want?
Yet since you had seen him again, Marcus's face had made room in your mind. The intrigued way he had looked at you, as if trying to understand everything that had happened to you in the years you had not been in touch, the way his arms were reaching out to embrace you when John had arrived, a barely imperceptible movement that only you had noticed because you knew him better than the palm of your hand, the dimple that had popped up on his cheek as he smiled at you, the usual one you had grown to love so much.
You had pinched the bridge of your nose as you tried to drive it from your mind “Are you okay love?” had asked John immediately.
“Yes, I just have a little headache, I'll get something later,” you had lied, hurrying to put away the rest of the groceries.
What annoyed you the most was that it seemed like not a single day had passed since you were in your twenties and you had woken up hugging him in the bed of that dingy motel. It was absurd. You had worked so hard to move on and now it felt like you were back where you started.
You couldn't let that happen, you wouldn't let your marriage be disrupted by a casual 10-minute meeting with him.
You would not have gone to his house, no matter how much you would have liked to see his mother who had always been so kind to you.
You had other things to think about anyway; your father was stuck in a hospital bed that you had managed to get him to be more comfortable. He had been put in the guest room on the ground floor, next to the bathroom, he couldn't do the stairs, and it was also easier for your mother to accompany him. The strong and generous man he had been was wearing out before your eyes, and it was a terribly painful image. You knew he had little time left, and you didn't want to waste it chasing the ghosts of the past when you had a husband who was helping you and hugging you every night trying to lessen your pain.
Your Thanksgiving dinner had been unique to say the least, each of you shuttling from the dining room to your father's to spend some time with him, making sure he had everything he needed, helping him eat and drink. You had marveled at how gentle and patient John was with your dad, the big man you had married, one with two shoulders like a football player, feeding your father fruit jelly almost more gracefully than you.
You knew how fond he was of your dad, they had hit it off right away, but you didn't know how much he was willing to sacrifice for him. You were moved.
___________________________________________
Your father was gone four days later. You and John were supposed to leave for Boston the next morning instead you had to call in to work, cancel your flight, call your trusty neighbor Marge to ask her to look at your house, pick up your mail, and water your plants.
You were crushed and at the same time overwhelmed with bureaucracy so you couldn't stop. You had forgotten to eat breakfast that morning, got dressed in a hurry to go to the funeral home to deliver the suit with which you had decided to bury your father, then went to do some paperwork with the insurance company and finally to the church to arrange with the pastor the time of the service and the proceedings. When you left the church you felt an emptiness in your stomach, your head was spinning, you had eaten barely a sandwich in the last two days.
You knew you were about to collapse, saw a café across the street from the church, and went inside to get a croissant and cappuccino to go.
When you came out you found yourself in front of Danielle. She was so sorry, of course your mother had informed Marcus's mother and they would be attending the funeral. Danielle hugged you as if you were her sister, telling you that she understood you because she too had lost her father a few years earlier and even though you didn't know each other well you could have called her if you needed anything.
You had thanked her and headed for the car, locked yourself in and took a couple of minutes to chug your croissant and drink your cappuccino. At least partially regenerated from the late breakfast you had headed back home, where John and your mother were waiting for you.
In the car you had been thinking about how kind Danielle had been and how lucky Marcus was to be with her.
The next day you had put on a sober black suit that you used for the office and probably wouldn't be able to wear again after that day, put on just enough makeup, helped John put on his tie, and headed for church with him and your mom.
All three of you were exhausted, grieving, trying to hold the pieces together as best you could with each other's help but your dad's absence was hard to bear. You wished you could have woken up and found it had been just a nightmare, you wished you could have hugged him and talked to him and he, as he had always done, would have found the words you needed most.
There was only one other person who could soothe your worries in the same way your dad could, and that person was Marcus.
John had been able to be there for you anyway, with actions more than words, taking tasks to take away from you, relieving you of burdens you could not carry alone, and for that you were infinitely grateful. He was a good husband.
After the service, under his arm, you left the church behind your mother. You had lost count of the number of people who had come to hug you, faces you had never seen, work colleagues of your father's whom you had never met, old childhood friends, the church was full of people who had come to remember him fondly. This pleased you, but it was strange to you at the same time. You wished you had some time to yourself, alone, to try to catch your breath and rationalize at least some of what had happened, that blender of emotions that had shaken and sucked you in.
You had made your way to the cemetery, walking along the path that led to the family grave where your grandparents were buried you had felt like you were in a muffled bubble where everything moved in slow motion, barely sensing John's presence beside you.
When you had arrived, you had looked up for only a moment and before you had seen Marcus's. You had not noticed his presence in the church, busy as you were with hugging and greeting, you had seen only his mother but he had remained in the background, respecting your grief. Just as you wished others had done. There was nothing more to be said, he always knew what you needed, no matter how many years had passed, he could still read you like an open book just like when at 18 he had realized that your highest aspiration was to become a writer without even the need to make it explicit in words.
His eyes were swollen and reddened; it was obvious that he was moved. Beside him was Danielle with a pair of dark glasses covering her face, clutching his arm elegantly and dignifiedly.
You had smiled weakly at him, thanking him with your eyes, and he had smiled back, looking at you with the sweetest, sorriest eyes I had seen that day.
___________________________________________
You had stayed behind to watch the final burial operations, while John had driven your mother back to the car, who had burst into convulsive tears, crushed by the realization that she had lost forever the man she had loved most in the world.
You had felt a hand barely graze your shoulder, you had turned around and saw Marcus standing there on the grass “hey” As soon as you had seen him the impulse to hug him had come to you spontaneously, he had welcomed you into his arms, stroking your head, wrapping you against his chest, trying to comfort you.
Being close to him still felt like home, his warmth immediately made you feel calmer, less alone, and not that John couldn't do that but with Marcus it was different. He had always been different in a way that was impossible to explain but that you felt hammering hard in your heart.
“Thank you,” you had whispered, with the tears you had finally allowed yourself to shed wetting your cheeks and his shirt.
“Don't mention it,” he had whispered, continuing to hold you close.
You had lingered a little longer in his embrace before pulling away and asking where Danielle was.
"She went home with my mom. I stayed in case you needed anything.”
“It's okay, thank you, there was no need,” you stammered lyingly. Yes you needed him, now more than ever, and he knew it well.
“Your mother and John?”
“Aunt Maggie drove them home, they left my mom's car with me.”
“Do you want me to drive?” she had asked and all you could do was nod ”please. But then how are you going to get back?”
“I'll call Danielle, don't worry” he had encircled your waist with an arm as he walked you to the car. He had opened the door and helped you get in, even buckled your seat belt no matter how hard you had tried to insist you could do it yourself.
Marcus did not spare himself when it came to caring for others.
He had climbed up on the driver's side and in a rush had hugged you back, there, inside the car, whispering, “You don't know how sorry I am, baby. Your father was a great man.”
You had looked at him gratefully, amid tears that had begun to flow profusely again "thank you"
He had kissed you, right after that. And the instant his lips had rested on yours, you had felt that you could not help yourself no matter how hard you had tried to bury your feelings all those years. There was something inexplicable that united you, a way of understanding each other that needed no words, as if you were made to recognize each other, to see inside each other's souls. You had read in his eyes that day in the supermarket how much he had missed you, and he had read the same in yours, and just before that you had felt the same need to have him near, in spite of John, Danielle, and anything else that told you it was wrong. Deep inside you had always known it was right, you had felt it from the moment you first met him. You had been crowing for years about people talking about soul mates, meetings of destiny, and things like that. But now you knew you had felt it. His soft lips on yours were like honey to your soul, you wished you could sink into that feeling, drown in that sea and never rise again.
You couldn't leave John though. Not after you had built a life together in Boston, not after he had supported and cared for you all those days. Not after all he had done for you.
As much as it hurt to do so, you pulled away from his lips. “I’ve always thought about you, all these years,” he said. “I’m sorry, you know, I didn’t realize it before, that maybe we could be something more. I never told you, but I remembered that kiss we shared when we were 18 very well.” Marcus was a torrent of words and was saying everything you’d always wanted to hear. “And I remember the night in that motel, too, how you held me in your sleep. I…” You knew he was about to say something like “I love you” “I’ve always loved you,” and so you cut him off. “Marcus.” He paused, his mouth half open as he looked at you in shock. “It’s too late. We can’t. Maybe there was a chance a few years ago, but now? We’re both married, we have responsibilities, we have to be realistic. It’s not fair to Danielle and John. And I have a job and a life in Boston, I can’t just leave everything all of a sudden.”
“But I…” and you knew he was about to say those words again. “Please don’t say that. Don’t make this any harder than it already is.”
Marcus had fallen silent, looking down at his hands draped over his lap, and then said sadly, “I understand.”
You had just lost your father and now you were losing him too. It wasn’t fair, but it was the only thing to do. “Take me home, please.” He would have started the car without saying anything, driving to your house without looking at you again, perhaps afraid that he wouldn’t be able to let you go if he ever laid eyes on you again.
You got out of the car just saying thank you, without hugging him because you knew it would have hurt even more.
____________________________________
2008
When John had told you that you should move to Washington DC, you had not taken it well. You did not want to leave Boston, the bright home where you had begun to build your new life, that city that had welcomed you. Starting all over again somewhere else, in a city you had never been to, seemed too much.
In the end, however, you had accepted it; leaving John seemed even worse. And he had continued to be a good husband, so you saw no reason to part with him.
After all, he had received a good promotion, he had rented a house where you had found a familiar light again, it had big windows, high ceilings, big rooms. John made good money and had tried to accommodate you in everything.
He had made it worth it all the way.
You had been struggling a bit to fit into the editorial staff of the new newspaper you had found work for. You were aiming for the Washington Post, but they had totally bounced you, which had been no small disappointment to digest.
However, after all, your life had regained some meaning.
It was now six months since you had moved, you hadn't heard from Marcus in eight years. And this time it was not because of distance, but because it had really hurt you to find out that he felt something too but it never seemed to be the right time for you. It would have been in 1993 perhaps, if you had had courage, if you had taken the risk of exploring your feelings together. He hadn't had the guts to tell you anything, you were too afraid, and when you had found common ground it had immediately collapsed.
John had noticed that something was wrong, even he knew you well enough to know that it pained you not to hear from your friend again, and at times he had even urged you to call him. You had told him that he had said something unpleasant about Danielle while you were in the car and you had felt sorry for her, from there you had started to argue. It was a really boorish excuse and you were pretty sure John hadn't bought it but had played it off for the sake of quiet life.
“Can you stop by the bank to deposit this check this morning?” he had told you that morning before leaving the house. You were sitting at the kitchen table, drinking coffee and enjoying your day off.
“Sure,” you had answered him, ”I'll go there before I go to the laundry to pick up my dress for tonight.”
“Mmm the burgundy dress with that dizzying neckline?” he had told you as he leaned over to give you a kiss
“Just that one” you had smiled as you returned the kiss and caressed his cheek ”you like it huh?”
“I'm looking forward to tonight” he had chuckled before leaving the house with his briefcase ”I'll be home at 7 o'clock okay?”
“Perfect, I'll be ready” you had thrown him a kiss and then curled up in your chair, finishing your coffee and admiring the view of the waking city outside.
It was your anniversary, and he was going to take you to dinner at a French restaurant you had heard about in enthusiastic tones from your discerning colleague who was a food and wine critic.
You had dressed quietly, gone out to do your chores, had a manicure appointment, then gone to pick up your dress at the dry cleaners and finally to the bank.
As soon as you had left the bank you had bumped into a guy.
You had looked up and been stunned.
Marcus.
How was that possible?
“Oh shit,” he had exclaimed.
His hair was slightly longer, he had grown a mustache and a beard but it was him, there was no doubt about it, you would have recognized him in a thousand.
"What are you doing here?" you had asked him, widening your eyes, without a hello or how are you or anything else, you were too shocked.
He was the last person you expected to see on your anniversary.
Marcus had brushed his hand behind his neck, the gesture he always made when he was embarrassed “I got a big promotion” in a tone as if to apologize for existing in the same state as you, in the same city as you, for coexisting in the same environment as you.
“Whatever...I have to go, anyway, have a nice life,” you had tried to say quickly, to disengage yourself from that surreal situation.
You had already turned your back on him when you heard him say “no wait...please...would you like to have a cup of coffee?”
You had turned silently to look at him. He couldn't have been serious. Yet he was.
And looking into those big brown pleading eyes, for some reason you had not been able to say no.
“All right,” you had replied with a shrug, ”I'll give you half an hour, then I'll have to go home.”
You went to sit in a café around the corner and ordered a cappuccino.
"So how are you?" you asked absentmindedly.
“Danielle and I broke up last spring.”
“Oh. I'm sorry.” It was like a blade through the chest to hear his voice again, to hear him say that he was single again and that his marriage was over. Somehow it made you feel guilty even though after eight years it was unlikely that the main reason for their breakup was you.
“Yeah...she wanted children and for a while we tried but...”
“Marcus please, I don't care, it's your business because it's over,” you cut off.
You didn't have to get involved again. When you had thought back to your father's death and how he had confessed right afterwards you had been angry with him. Why had he done it at that time when you were so particularly vulnerable? It wasn't fair.
"Sorry I-" he had babbled.
“Never mind, never mind,” you had interrupted him again with a hand gesture. “Look, let's talk straight once and for all” you didn't know where all that aggression was coming from but it was growing inside you inexorably, like an infection ”why the hell are we here?”
He had lowered his gaze to his cappuccino, then brought it back to you and stared at you in a way that made you feel naked and helpless. He still had an effect on you, and it pissed you off. “I miss you,” he had admitted under his breath, ”I miss talking to you and I miss having you around. I miss everything about you. When I saw you I couldn't believe it. But I know I can't let you leave without clearing things up.”
“There's nothing left to clear up. It's over Marcus, can't you see that? There was never a right time for us.”
“That's not true, I-”
“Stop it! Look, I'm trying to live my life, you do it too,” you had screeched
“But-”
“No 'buts'... Marcus, I'm tired. I'm tired of this running into each other and don't tell me it's fate because it's just pure randomness. John was transferred for work, now we live here, end of story. I'm still with him, okay? And I'm happy, so please leave me alone.”
You could see his clenched fist on the coffee table, his eyes glazed with tears, his Adam's apple jumping as you mentioned John. He looked devastated. It was no longer your business anyway, so you had gotten up and made to leave, leaving a bill on the coffee table. “Don't look for me anymore.”
Marcus had jumped up, his chair had fallen back crashing onto the pavement, and he didn't even seem to notice as he tried to stop you.
“Please” he had grabbed you by the sleeve of his jacket ”please.”
You had turned back to him and looking into his eyes you had seen the little boy who asked you if he would ever be famous, the one who helped you with your homework, the 20-year-old who had involved you in the craziest vacation of your life, and then the adult who had broken your heart.
“No.” you had whispered, ”no fucking way.”
Marcus' face was a grimace of pain, as if in physical pain from your rejection, his shoulders hunched and his hand not letting go of you. He was pathetic and sweet at the same time.
His eyes were fixed in yours as he told you loud and clear, “I love you.”
I love you.
You had longed to hear it come from his lips for so long that now it was like a lash that burned against your skin. You had stopped feeling like you were glued to the sidewalk, unable to take a step forward “What the hell! Did you have to tell me that? Was it necessary after I told you that I am still with my husband? Fuck, your timing is the worst thing ever. Do you know what day it is today? My wedding anniversary.” you had thrown up words at him angrily, feeling a knot in your stomach that nauseated you.
“I don't want anything from you,” he had replied, his voice trembling, ”I just wanted you to know.”
“And now that I know according to you what have we solved? What have we gained? I'll tell you, absolutely nothing Marcus.”
You had turned around and left, yelling at him, “I'll tell you again, don't ever look for me.”
You had come home and taken a long hot bath, cried your last tears for him, and then decided it was John you had to think about, your special day. Marcus wasn't going to ruin it for you. You had prepared yourself carefully, put on the dress he liked so much, your favorite perfume, and waited for John. When he had come home you had driven out to a restaurant, had had a delicious dinner, sex as soon as you got home, and fallen asleep in his arms feeling that it was right.
___________________________________
2010
“Love don't wait up for me, I'll be back late. I am so sorry, I love you.”
It was already the fourth time in a week that he sent you such a message, by now John spent more time in the office than anywhere else. He had been given another promotion and was now mainly in charge of foreign exchanges, so he went to the office at impossible hours, came back later and later, and you barely saw him in the morning getting out of bed to jump in the shower. You hadn't had sex for at least a month, in those days you had talked more often with the mailman than with your husband.
Finally a publishing house had noticed you and they had published your book, you had gotten a chance to continue working for the newspaper by writing your articles from home so you could work on your second novel.
You had huffed, looking at the screen, by now you were going to your friends' dinners alone, in those two years you had bonded with some couples in your neighborhood, and with a colleague from the newspaper and her husband. Every time you had been invited in the last three months John had declined, saying he had to work.
You were beginning to feel really alone in your marriage, but you knew you had to try something. You still cared about John; you didn't want everything you had built together to be ruined. Sure, since he was earning more money he was showering you with unexpected and expensive gifts that certainly didn't make up for his absence, though. You had never been a materialistic person, no matter how beautiful the diamond bracelets and pearl necklaces and expensive shoes were, you missed falling asleep cuddled with your husband, feeling his caresses, having breakfast with him in the morning, spending a weekend together on the couch watching TV cuddling, simply spending time with him. For the past few weeks you had failed to write a word, you had hastily completed articles for the newspaper just to meet deadlines but your novel had stalled. You were busy cleaning to take your mind off things, you had joined the gym to force yourself to leave the house but then you would go back and find yourself spending entire evenings lounging around, not knowing what else to do.
You had decided that night that you had to take matters into your own hands, put on a pretty dress, fixed your hair and make-up thoroughly, and then went out with the intention of surprising him. You were going to bring him his favorite dishes from your favorite Chinese restaurant to the office.
When you had arrived at his workplace, you had looked up from the car window and seen the light on in his office.
You had come down loaded with Chinese noodles and dumplings, and as you walked toward the entrance you had noticed his car parked not far away.
You had taken the elevator with your heart in your throat, looking forward to seeing his happy face as he enjoyed a hot meal. The elevator had opened on the floor and you had started down the hallway leading to his office. There was no one there, everything was quiet and still, but the closer you got to his office the more you heard strange noises. Bellowing, hushed voices.
The door was pulled over, you had pushed it slightly, and the scene that unfolded before your eyes was unsettling.
Veronica, a married colleague of him whom you had met at the firm's Christmas party a few months earlier, was bent over John's desk, her skirt up, her panties down, her long legs covered by black hold-ups, her stilettos sinking into the Persian carpet under John's desk. And your husband holding her hips and sinking into her from behind.
His shirt was hanging off his shoulders, his hair was disheveled, his neck tense and sweaty, as he stood there with his cool wool pants down, fucking his colleague.
He grunted some words that you had never heard him say when you were having sex “Yeah, bitch, you like that huh? You like getting pounded by my cock huh? You're such a dirty slut, do you feel how wet you are for me?"
You couldn't believe your eyes. Your sweet husband, the one who had stood by you so devotedly…where had that man gone?
You dropped the bag with the Chinese dinner on the floor, the boxes had opened, and the noodles had spread all over the hardwood floor. “What the fuck?!”
John had turned around shocked, still with his cock inside his coworker “Oh shit. No, wait, honey I-” he had stepped out of her and tried to pull up his pants awkwardly ”please-fuck-I can explain.”
“There's nothing to explain, you piece of shit!” you had yelled at him as he approached trying to stammer out some stupid excuse and had slapped him open-handed across the face as soon as he got in front of you ‘don't bother coming home’ you had added contemptuously.
“But love I-” he had pranced rubbing his cheek ”please-”
“NO!” You had yelled “No, I don't want to hear your bullshit excuses, I don't want anything more to do with you, you disgust me!”
Veronica was standing in the corner buttoning her blouse and pulling down her skirt without meeting your gaze, her face hot and guilty.
Everything that you had sacrificed for that relationship, how you had followed him and reinvented your life for him, adapting to his needs, trying to build a happy nest for the two of you in Washington, all had been swept away. He had stomped on your marriage, your trust, your heart.
You had driven home crying, risking missing a red light, had nailed down at the last moment with your heart bouncing inside your chest like a jackhammer. You had walked into the house throwing your purse and coat on the floor, throwing your shoes in the middle of the hallway and throwing yourself on the bed, hiding your face in the pillow with your head bursting, a sense of helplessness and defeat enveloping your temples, your chest, your stomach.
It was over.
John had never come home, you had learned through his lawyer that he had rented an apartment near his office, and a week later he sent three big guys from a moving company to pick up his things.
You couldn't stay in that house anymore. Everything reminded you of him, the lies he had been telling you for months and what was even worse, all the happy moments you had lived in there in spite of yourself.
You were dragging yourself from room to room without strength, you hadn't written anything anymore, you had told the editor of the newspaper that you were sick to have an excuse to delay the deadlines for your articles.
You were tired, you were angry, you lacked the will to do anything, after three days without seeing you leave the house your friend Denise, who lived across the street had called you alarmed to see if you were all right, and hearing your dejected, fading voice had decided to use the keys you had given her in case of an emergency to come and check on you in person.
You had not been able to lie to her; you had burst into tears and told her everything as soon as she asked you where John was.
From that day she had been by every day bringing you dinner, making sure you ate, forcing you to shower, tidying up. You didn't know what you had done to deserve Denise in your life but you were incredibly grateful that she was there.
Gradually you had forced yourself to take charge of your life again, started going out again pushed by your friends and even moved house, encouraged by them. You couldn't turn over a new leaf without getting out of there.
And you had especially realized that you could walk with your head held high; you were not the one who had to be ashamed.
And looking back on it, you had really overcome a lot in the last few years. The loss of your father, Marcus, your husband. All the men who had meant something to you in your life.
You could have been proud that you did your best to stay on your feet.
________________________________________________________
2011
It had been a year since you had discovered John screwing his colleague.
You had tried dating men, without success, but things were going very well professionally. You had finally managed to finish your second book, and the publisher had been extremely pleased, so much so that he had arranged a series of meetings for you at bookstores around the country. You had just returned from Ohio when you got a call from your mother inviting you for Christmas.
You had no desire to return to Sacramento, but how could you say no to your mom? She was left alone and it had not been easy for her. Your aunt and uncle lived nearby and took care of her but she had said she missed you a lot.
And she was so proud of you, she had asked you for copies of your books to give to all her friends, she was your biggest fan. You were happy to see her and spend time with her.
And so, there you were at the airport, with a big suitcase, ready to get on yet another plane and fly across the country.
You had just gotten an upgrade to business class and were in the private lounge of the area airline ordering yourself a martini when you heard a familiar voice behind you calling your name.
Marcus. Again.
“I swear I'm not following you,” he had raised his hands in surrender.
“I know. I haven't seen you in three years, and we live in the same town.”
You had smiled; it wasn't bad to see his face again after all.
“Martini?” He had asked pointing to your glass
“Yeah. Can you please make another one?” You had said turning toward the bartender.
You had sat at a small table with your cocktails “Are you going to see your mother?”
You had nodded, “You too?”
“Yes, my parents were very insistent. Where is John?”
“I have no idea,” you had squeezed into your shoulders taking a sip of your martini.
“Oh, did you break up? I'm sorry, he seemed like a good man,” he had said.
“Apparently he wasn't since he was cheating on me with one of his colleagues.”
“You should have better judgment anyway, aren't you a detective?” you had asked, raising an eyebrow and looking at him wryly
Marcus had burst out laughing, “You're right, I should.”
And he had told you about the time he had fallen in love with someone named Teresa, a colleague of his, and had been left like a poor idiot the previous year, without realizing that she was in love with someone else.
“It wasn't your fault, you know,” you told him sweetly, ”I know how you get when you have a crush.”
“How do I become?” he had asked you with a sigh.
And you had replied with a smirk “Well, if you must know...naive, head in the clouds, like you live in a world of unicorns and fairies”
“Really? A ridiculous clown? Is that what I become?” he had chuckled and then turned serious again ”Not with you, I hope”
You had laughed, you could have laughed at that point. Or maybe it was just the martini clouding your mind.
“Whatever,” you had rolled your eyes.
“Well, I'm sorry,” he had muttered.
“It's okay” you had smiled ”Really.”
At that moment they had announced boarding for your flight, so you had hurried to the gate together.
You were both in business, so eventually you had sat next to each other and continued chatting.
And it was nice, really nice. You were both single, more aware, you had reached an age where you could be honest with yourselves and you could joke about your dramas.
“So you had noticed that I had hugged you that night huh?”
“Sure. You pounced on me in my sleep and woke me up. I didn't want to embarrass you so I played it cool” she had smiled ”I thought you were sleepwalking and dreaming of hugging Keanu Reeves or whatever.”
You had burst out in the loudest laugh you had had in years and then covered your mouth embarrassed that you had disturbed the other passengers. Fortunately those in your vicinity all had headphones on and were watching a movie.
“Oh, come on” you had tapped his shoulder and then taken by you don't know what courage-probably the second martini you were downing-you had said ”the only one I dreamed of hugging was you.”
“I didn't realize this until later...Now is there anyone you would like to hug by any chance?” he had whispered in your ear.
“Actually...yes”
And there, in that plane, you kissed. For the first time without hindrance, without remorse, without drama, without fear. “I love you” he had whispered on your lips, and you had responded, finally free to say it ”I love you too.”
“So we'll try this time?” he had caressed your cheek, sliding his hand down your neck.
“Yes” You had said ”definitely yes.”
“Your mother will be delighted” he had smiled, kissing you again “it's going to be a great Christmas.”
“Well, Merry Christman then” you whispered as your mouth moved down his neck.
“Merry Christmas, baby”
#pedrostories#pedrostoriesgift24#marcus pike#Marcus Pike x f!reader#marcus pike fanfiction#marcus pike fic#ppcu fics#pedro pascal#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal character fanfic#pedro pascal character fanfiction
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Joyeux Noël - A Lavender AU Christmas Story
Joel and your daughters plan something special for you for the holidays. A Christmas one shot set in the Lavender AU Universe.
Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader
Warnings: Smut. No outbreak AU. Fluff fluff fluff. Christmas fluff. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ only
Length: 3.6k
A/N: JOEL AND DOC ARE BACK FOR THE HOLIDAYS BECAUSE I MISSED THEM (and hopefully some of you did, too.) This can be read as a stand alone fic with the understanding that Joel and reader are a married couple with a shared biological daughter as well as Ellie and Sarah. I hope you enjoy this tooth rotting-ly sweet fic!
AO3 | Lavender Masterlist | Lavender AU Masterlist | Full Masterlist
December 24, 2024
“You’re sure you’ve got everything?” Sarah asked, her son, Carson, squealing in the background.
“Pretty sure,” Joel said, frowning a little.
“Put me on FaceTime,” she said. “Show me.”
Joel sighed and fussed with his phone until it became a video call, Sarah on the other end with a smudge of flour on her nose.
“Busy over there, baby girl?” He teased.
“Your grandson got me in the face when we were making sugar cookies,” she said. “I haven’t had the chance to get cleaned up yet, the kitchen is a disaster but that’s beside the point, show me Mom’s suitcase.”
Joel fussed with the phone again - having to search for the little button that let him do it, not a fan of figuring out technology without the help of any of his girls - and got the camera to flip around.
“So I put in some of the sweaters she wears a lot,” he said, showing Sarah the stacks. “Some of the pants she likes, too. Got this one dress she looks real good in, real good…”
“Ew,” Sarah said.
“Shut it, kid,” he said. She laughed. “Got the shoes she says are comfortable, some that are pretty, too…”
“Do you have a bag for her?” She asked.
“What do you think you’re lookin’ at?”
“Not that kind of bag,” she rolled her eyes. “I mean a purse.”
“Wouldn’t she just bring the one she uses all the time?” He asked.
“Dad, you’re going to be walking around Paris,” Sarah said. “Spending hours in museums and in stores and lounging at chic cafes, she’s not going to want to carry that giant thing around. In her closet, in one of the dust bags at the top is a smaller bag that Ellie, Evie and I went in on for Mother's Day, grab that one. It’s cross body so she can just wear it, she likes that when she’s walking around a lot. Also, do you have her hair stuff?”
“Hair stuff?” Joel frowned. “Don’t they have that in the room?”
She sighed.
“See, this is why I make you show me,” Sarah said. “Yes, there’s shampoo and stuff but she uses serums and oils and things, she needs those. Bathroom next.”
Joel obeyed his oldest daughter’s instructions, thankful that the two of you were so close that she’d know these kinds of things. He got what she told him from the bathroom and packed it.
“Alright,” she said. “I think you’re all good! Just let her get a book or five at the airport and you’ll be golden, old man.”
“Thanks, kiddo,” he smiled a little. “You still good to take your sister for a while?”
“Of course,” she smiled back. “I love Ellie and Evie can stay as long as she wants until she wants to go back to school. Plus Brandon could use someone to give him a run for his money on this new video game, he’s getting over confident.”
“Thank you for keeping an eye on Ellie,” Joel said. “We’d like to get all you girls on a trip like this with us sometime but for the first one…”
“It should just be the two of you,” Sarah finished for him with a smile. “She’s going to love it, Dad.”
He sure hoped so.
Joel had been planning this for a while. Decades, really.
Back when the two of you were young and flat broke, a trip to Paris had been a pipe dream. You talked about it that way, the same way Ellie talked about going to the moon now, something that you dreamed about but didn’t expect to ever have.
Then Evie came along. Then you were in med school and then you were an intern and resident and attending and Sarah got married and Ellie joined the family and life had just gotten in the way, as it always seemed to.
But it had been a beautiful life and you’d never even come close to complaining about not getting to visit France the way you’d dreamed. As you’d always done, you put everyone else’s needs and wants before your own, constantly looking for a way to make Joel or your daughters’ lives better before thinking of yourself.
But the Paris trip was possible now. The two of you had made more money than Joel had ever dreamed of making, Sarah and Evie were off on their own and Ellie was in a good enough place that she could spend a few weeks with her sister. Things were even calm at work for both of you - Tommy could run the business for a few weeks and Joel had coordinated with your boss to get you time off. It was the perfect time to finally give you something you’d been dreaming of as long as Joel had known you.
Joel didn’t want to put more work on your plate, though, so he worked with Sarah, Evie and Ellie to plan everything. Sarah traveled a lot - she’d made it to Europe long before Joel ever had - and knew how to find a good hotel. Ellie told Joel about the different museums to visit, her passion for art coming in handy as he was planning. Evie - who had even taken after your knack for language - helped Joel learn a few phrases in French (though he was going to be pretty dependent on you to get around.) But that was fine. As long as you were happy, he didn’t care if everyone around him was speaking gibberish.
“Dad!” Ellie yelled from down the hall. “Mom just texted, she’s almost home!”
“Shit,” Joel said, zipping the suitcase quickly. “Stall her for me, will ya?”
“Can do!” She yelled back and he heard her pounding down the stairs to intercept you.
Joel hauled the luggage downstairs the best he could, stashing the packed bags in a room just off the garage so he could wrestle them into the trunk later. He finished just as the garage door opened and Ellie went racing past him to catch you in the car, giving him a chance to slip into the living room unnoticed. You joined him just a minute after he got there, flopping on the couch next to him.
“Tough day?” He asked, putting his arm up so you could snuggle into him.
“Just long,” you sighed. “That early start the day before a holiday made this shift feel like 20 hours, not 12. But at least I have Christmas off to spend with you and the girls before I’m back in on Thursday.”
Joel tried to keep from smiling at the fact that you didn’t know that, by this time on Thursday, you’d be across the world.
“Want to watch a movie?” He asked. “Your pick.”
“Sure,” you snuggled closer. “But let’s see what Ellie and Evie want to watch, I’ll be happy as long as I’m with you guys.”
He kissed your forehead and called the girls down, the two of them settling on Elf followed by Die Hard and you not even putting in a vote for your favorite because you never tried to put yourself first in anything. That’s why Joel was doing all this, to make sure it happened at least now and then. He made you a plate of Chinese food and you fell asleep against him when you finished it, still wearing the Christmas-themed sweater and earrings you’d worn that day to the hospital.
“Alright, girls,” Joel said quietly. “Upstairs, Santa can’t come ’til you’re in bed.”
Evie and Ellie shared a look before looking back to Joel.
“Goodnight, Dad,” Evie said, getting up and helping Ellie to her feet, too. “I hope Santa can get Mom upstairs OK…”
He snorted and watched the girls go to their rooms before laying you gently on the couch. He went and got the presents out of your closet and stashed the suitcases in the back of the car. He stuffed the stockings - you sleeping peacefully the whole time - and set up the living room the same way he’d done since Sarah was little before gently rousing you from your long winter’s nap.
“C’mon, baby,” he said softly, cupping your face, thumb brushing your cheekbone. “Bed time.”
“But…” you sat up, groggy. “We gotta set up Christmas and…”
“Already done,” he smiled. “Let’s go, sleepyhead.”
You sighed contentedly as he looped an arm around your waist and guided you groggily to your room.
“You’re the best husband in the world, you know that?” You said as you burrowed against his chest once you were both in bed.
He smiled.
“Doin’ my best, baby.”
***
You definitely missed having little kids on Christmas morning but having older ones had its perks.
You woke up before Joel, your unreasonably early day - and bed time - on Christmas Eve rousing you before the sun.
Your husband was still snoring gently and you just watched him for a moment, a peaceful look on his face in the red and green glow of the lights on the eaves outside. You smiled. There was something so damn beautiful about the man you’d married more than 20 years ago, just getting to look at him while he slept made you feel unreasonably lucky, like you were getting away with something you shouldn’t.
You ran your fingers through his hair, slow and gentle, and he stirred, smiling every so slightly before delicately catching your wrist and bringing it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your pulse.
“Merry Christmas,” you whispered.
He smiled broader, his eyes still closed.
“Merry Christmas.”
“Want one of your presents now?” You asked and he opened one eye so fast it made you giggle. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
You leaned in close and kissed him softly, almost chastely, before moving down his body and nudging him onto his back as you went. Your lips went over the firm expanse of his chest, the soft warmth of his stomach, down to the top of his pajama pants where his thick length was already hardening for you.
You tugged the pants down enough that you could get at his cock. You licked the tip of him, tongue circling his head before you wrapped your lips around just the very end, sucking softly at his precome.
“Goddamn baby,” he said, already breathless, his hand coming to the back of your head as you took the whole of him slowly, tantalizingly into your mouth.
Once you swallowed him into your throat, you moaned and held him there, sucking and savoring him before starting to move over him. You pressed your tongue against the thick vein that ran along the underside of his cock, making his head run along the roof of your mouth as he started to move in shallow, gentle thrusts, working himself deeper, groaning as he did.
“Can I have that soft little pussy, too?” He asked eventually, sounding desperate, his grip tightening on your head. “Because goddamn baby if I don’t need you right now.”
You sucked him all the way to the tip before releasing him from your mouth.
“You can have as much of me as you want,” you said, breathless yourself. “I’m all yours.”
Before you had the chance to start sucking him again, he tugged you back up his body, laying you beside him before rolling to face you. He gripped your thigh, tugging your leg over his hip and tucking your panties to the side before petting at your leaking entrance.
“Good,” he whispered. “Just the way I want you.”
The tip of his cock replaced his fingers and he thrust just the head of himself inside of you, stretching you enough that you had to press your face into his chest to muffle your moan.
“How do you always feel so goddamn good, baby?” He asked, tugging you closer as he pushed inside. He tucked your head below his chin, one arm below you and around you, his fingers spread wide between your shoulders, his other on the small of your back holding you in just the right place. You were completely enveloped by him as he filled you to the root, everything about your husband completely surrounding you. “Don’t deserve something as good as you.”
You just groaned in protest, not really able to form words, too overwhelmed by the way Joel was completing you.
Instead, you rocked your hips against him and he responded in kind, the two of you moving slowly, firmly against each other. Heat drew low inside you, concentrated on where Joel was shaping you to him and you grew tighter and tighter around him, your orgasm growing sure and steady.
“You gonna come for me?” He whispered in your ear. You moaned and nodded against him. “Good, want you to come for me, let me feel it baby, milk me dry, c’mon.”
You let out a strangled little sob as you obeyed, your channel fluttering and rippling around him.
“There she is,” he breathed, keeping his pace inside you, the tip of his cock pressing into the soft place within you that made your back arch and toes curl as he ground himself deep. “That’s it, baby, keep coming, come on my cock. Fuck, you take it so well, come so pretty for me, just keep… keep…”
He squeezed you tighter, thrust impossibly deeper and you felt him come apart inside you with a needy grunt, throbbing deep and hard as he filled you, drawing your orgasm out as he did.
You went limp in his arms as your climax eased and his hold on you loosened just enough that he could kiss you, his lips gentle on yours as both of you came back down to earth.
“Dunno that anything’ll top that present,” he teased lightly and you laughed.
“One of the upsides to not having little kids running in here at six in the morning,” you smiled before kissing his chest and snuggling closer. His cock was softening inside you, the combination of his come and yours starting to drip from you. “Can we just stay like this for a while? I miss you when you’re not inside me.”
He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his fingers trailing over your spine.
“Course baby,” he said softly. “Think we got a bit before the girls start moving.”
You luxuriated in the slow start to the morning, drifting in and out of consciousness with Joel’s cock nestled inside you, your husband thrusting slowly and gently now and then so he stayed deep. The sun had just started to peek through the blinds when you heard a toilet flush down the hall and you kissed Joel one last time before slipping him from you, adjusting his pants and your panties before the girls were knocking on your door.
You loved Christmas morning with your family, loved the sense of joy and closeness as you watched your daughters open presents while you sat on the couch, snuggled up to Joel with a cup of coffee in your hands. You’d never had a holiday quite like this one growing up, always just you and your grandmother making the best of it. You treasured that, too, but it was different now, when you were surrounded by the people you loved more than anything else who loved you in return.
Ellie was super excited about a set of really nice markers you’d asked Andrew for help in researching, Evie shrieked with glee over concert tickets for her and her girlfriend and Joel kissed you so deep when he opened the fancy coffee maker you got him the aching place between your thighs throbbed again.
After cinnamon rolls and bacon and coffee made with Joel’s new toy, the four of you headed to Sarah’s, laughing as Carson showed you everything Santa brought him and giving Joel a look when he gave his grandson candy behind his daughter’s back.
“Well,” Joel said, downing the last of his beer as your entire family sat around Sarah’s table after dinner and dessert, you tucked contentedly against his side. “I’m afraid we gotta hit the road.”
You frowned, twisting to look at him.
“What?” You asked, looking down at your watch. It was barely five. “No we don’t, I don’t need to be in until tomorrow afternoon, we can hang out and…”
“No, Mom, you do really need to go,” Sarah said, a serious look on her face.
“Yeah,” Ellie nodded. “Don’t wanna be late.”
“Late for what?” You said.
Evie looked up from her phone.
“I just checked and everything is on time,” she said.
You laughed, looking around at your husband and daughters.
“What are you talking about?” You asked. “What’s on time, everything is closed. Are we going to a movie?”
“I mean, we can when we get there if that’s what you wanna do,” Joel shrugged. “But you’d have to translate for me the whole time.”
You frowned, looking around again, all your children looking like they were about to burst with excitement.
“Can someone clue me in?” You laughed again. “Because I’m at a loss…”
“Oh, right,” Evie said, going into her purse, pulling out an envelope and handing it over. “Guess you’ll need that.”
Joel was trying to hide his grin but you knew him too well for that and you just raised your brows at him as you opened the envelope. He just shrugged a little, his smile getting harder and harder to conceal.
“What are you all up to?” You teased as you opened the envelope, unfolding the papers that were inside.
“Guess you’ll have to look,” Joel shrugged.
You rolled your eyes good naturedly before looking at the pages in your hands.
It took you a second to realize what you were holding: a flight itinerary.
You frowned.
“Joel?” You asked looking over at him.
“Yeah, baby?”
“Joel, this…” you looked back at the paper, your heart racing. “Joel, this is a plane ticket.”
“Is it?” He asked, smile apparent in his voice.
“Joel,” you looked at him again. “This is a plane ticket to Paris. And it leaves in four hours.”
“Technically, I think it’s two plane tickets,” Joel said, sitting up to look over your shoulder. “First class, in case you wanted some room to sleep on your first overseas flight.”
“But…” Your eyes ranged over the ticket before looking around, all your daughters grinning like the cats who ate the canaries. “I have work!”
“Well, see, that’s where you’re wrong,” Joel smirked. “Talked with your boss back in October, you’re not due back to the hospital for a few weeks.”
“I…” you looked down and back up again. “I need to pack!”
“Wrong again, Mom,” Sarah smiled. “Dad took care of that. And I checked his work, you’re good.”
“We need to plan…”
“I gave him a list of all the coolest museums,” Ellie said proudly, cutting you off.
“And I helped Dad be a little less totally useless in French,” Evie added.
You looked around at all of them, tears stinging at your eyes.
“You all planned this?” You asked, a lump in your throat. “For me?”
“Been a long time coming, baby,” Joel smiled, his large hand cradling your elbow, thumb rubbing gentle circles over you. “You deserve it. Have for a while.”
“He’s right, Mom,” Sarah smiled, too. “After taking care of all of us over the years, it’s about damn time.”
“You’re the best mom in the world,” Ellie agreed. “Figured it was time that you see some of it.”
“You always do everything for all of us,” Evie said. “We really should return the favor now and then.”
You looked back at the tickets, covering your mouth with one hand, giving up on trying to keep from crying.
“I…” you sniffed. “I don’t know what to say!”
“How about we just say bon voyage,” Evie said. “Because you need to get on the road or you’re going to be late for your flight!”
You let your children usher you and Joel to the car and you gave everyone hugs as Evie and Ellie got their bags from the trunk so they could stay with Sarah. You hugged them all goodbye, having to dry your tears every time you realized exactly what was happening: You were finally going to Paris, a place you’d always wanted to go, on a trip planned by the people you loved most.
Joel drove the two of you to the airport, you practically glowing the entire way. Joel didn’t let you carry your own bags and you were still in disbelief as you settled into your seat on the plane, a glass of champagne in your hand as you waited to take off.
“So,” Joel smiled, watching you. “You excited?”
“I can’t believe it,” you said, laughing a little. “I can’t… You really shouldn’t have done all this, not for me!”
“Oh baby,” Joel reached out and cupped your cheek. “You’ve done nothin’ but take care of everyone else as long as I’ve known you. Don’t think I can ever do enough to repay you for that but you gotta let me try, at least at Christmas.”
You smiled and leaned over to kiss him.
“I think I can handle that.”
He smiled.
“Merry Christmas, baby,” he said. “Or should I say… joyeux noël? That right?”
You laughed, his accent comically bad but so charming you had to love it.
“That’s right,” you said. “Joyeux noël.”
#fanfic#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#lavender#joel miller x oc#joel miller smut#christmas fic
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Love Me! (If That’s What You Wanna Do)
Merry Christmas, ya filthy animals <3
Fem! Reader
Contains: Sub!Matty, Matty being bratty, hair pulling, jealousy, male masturbation, nipple play, praise (good boy), riding.
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Matty guides his girlfriend through being dominant for the first time.
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WC: 4.5k
You knew Matty liked to put on a show, but this was just too much…
You watch as he sings into the microphone, the stage lights bathing him in purple and pink hues while he reaches for the buttons of his blouse. The shrill screams from the audience almost pierce your ears as he undoes them one by one. His inked skin is revealed inch by inch until his shirt lays open on his chest, a useless accessory hanging off of his shoulders. You swallow thickly, the tight, black leather of his pants sitting so low on his hips that the band of his Calvin Klien boxer briefs is visible, his v-line and sharp hip bones on full display. The ravenous girls at the stage barrier look like they want to eat him alive. You can’t blame them.
Matty waltzes about the stage like he owns it, swinging his hips and swigging his wine, lips stained a dark, salacious shade of red. You know he can feel your eyes burning into him. In fact, you’d bet anything that he’s counting on your attention. He’s doing almost everything except getting on his knees and begging for it.
He approaches the barrier, allowing stranger's hands to grab at anything they can reach, a sea of nameless faces touching his hair, his chest, his face. It’s worship, in a sense. He smiles like he deserves it.
Matty catches your stare, eyeing how your arms are wrapped tightly to your chest. You can’t find a way to hate his audacity. He wears it too well, even as he shoots you a wink while hands that aren’t yours feel his skin.
You’re fuming by the time the show ends, watching the boys take their bows while you simmer in your jealousy. No greeting is necessary when Matty comes backstage. He just smiles as you grab him by the wrist, pulling him to the nearest dressing room while he lazily tags along behind you. You don’t even bother to look back at him. You walk with purpose, ushering him into the room and locking the door.
Your chest rises and falls with shallow breaths, your mind racing as you take a few menacing steps forward until he’s backed up against the door. Cornered. A smirk pulls at Matty’s red-stained lips, feeling the possessiveness radiating off of you in waves. Your eyes have a wild look to them, and he’s just relishing in it. He knows you’re not just jealous and pissed off. You’re turned on. It’s all over your face. You’re painted with a flush like a mark of your hypocrisy.
"What are you doing?" you snap.
“What d’you mean?” he answers casually, his gaze flickering over your face. The cocky glint in his eyes is simply insufferable. You’re only feeding into his satisfaction, and it’s making you want to sink your teeth into him, rake your nails down his back. Make him squirm.
"What do I mean? Flirting with the girls in the audience? Letting them fucking grope you?” you snap, looking him up and down in disbelief.
“Babe, it’s all part of the show. They wanted a little piece of me, was just giving them what they wanted.”
As if you don't know that. Almost every single girl in that audience wanted him to take them home. Your face feels hot. He just. Won’t. Behave.
"Your pants are so low, I can practically see your dick," you bite, your upper lip twitching with annoyance, "And so could everyone else."
Matty chuckles, his tongue darting out over his lips to wet them. Your eyes follow his movement, but you tear your gaze away like you’d been burned, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of your lust. He slowly takes your hands into his, placing them on his warm, bare chest. Your breath catches as he begins to guide them down his slender frame, almost like a peace offering, until he ruins it.
“Maybe I wanted them to know what I’m packing,” he quips.
Just as your fingertips graze the rose tattoo on his hip, you yank your hands out of his grasp.
“Jesus christ,” you mutter, your frustration bubbling up dangerously inside of you.
“Oh, come on, it was a joke,” he defends, rolling his eyes, “My dick is yours. Is that what you want me to say?”
You reach for his hair, grasping a fistful of his dark curls and tugging until his chin is tilted upwards. You don’t pull hard enough to hurt him. You know the gasp he makes isn’t out of pain. You see the flash of surprise in Matty’s eyes, having never been handled like this by you before.
“Do I not give you enough attention? Is that it?” you sneer, narrowing your eyes at him.
Matty’s breath shudders, his Adam’s apple bobbing with a thick swallow. He looks a lot more harmless like this with his throat bared to you.
"You give me plenty of attention, love. I just like to play around a bit. It's all harmless fun, yeah?" Matty smiles, trying to downplay how much your hold on his hair is affecting him.
"You like it?" you murmur lowly, your eyes boring into his, “Watching them go crazy for you? Feels good, huh?”
Matty nods, his pretty lips parted with shallow breaths as he peers down at you, not fighting the way you keep his head back. You hum softly in response, knowing he’s being honest. He’s a natural frontman, and of course, he thrives on attention.
"Do you ever want any of them?" you mutter, your grip tightening just slightly, making him moan softly. The air changes between you for a moment.
“No,” he says instantly, his eyes widening in a slight panic, “No, never, love. I swear. Only you. Couldn’t hold a fucking candle to you, my love.”
You nod, satisfied with his answer. You let out a breath that you didn’t realize you were holding. You didn’t know how much you needed to hear that until it felt like you could breathe again.
“So, what? Why were you being a tease? Wanted to rile me up ‘cause you were feeling needy?” you coo with faux empathy, your tone almost mocking.
“Smart girl,” he grins, “Yeah. Wanted to see you all worked up and possessive and stuff. It’s hot.”
You huff, your face burning as you let go of his hair, knowing you’d played right into his hands and he loved every moment of it. Matty chuckles, reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair away from your eyes. His touch is gentle, a contrast to the cocky expression on his face, that lazy smirk that you just want to wipe off. He takes a step away from you as if he’s off the hook, scot-free.
“You didn’t like the striptease?” he says, tilting his head at you condescendingly.
He’s not going to get off that easy. You deliberately stand in his way, keeping him trapped between the door and your body. Your breathing is heavy, your eyes piercing into him like you’re contemplating what to do with him. Matty could probably push you off of him, but he doesn’t. He stares at you like a deer in headlights. He’s close enough to you that his hot breaths fan across your lips.
“What? Gonna punish me?” he asks, his voice wavering more than he’d intended, his taunt falling flat.
“Maybe I will,” you shoot back. You’re bluffing, but he doesn’t need to know that.
You have no clue where your next words come from, but they’re already falling from your lips like they’re being spoken for you.
“Go and sit on the couch.”
For just a second, Matty looks genuinely rattled before he shrugs, slipping out from between you and the door. He straightens up, starting to stride towards the red, velvet loveseat.
“As you wish,” he says, a challenge laced in his tone.
Matty takes a seat, leaning back against the pillows carelessly with his blouse still open and hanging at his sides. You follow after him, knocking his legs open with your knee so you can stand between them, towering over him. It feels good. Powerful, for a change.
“If you like being watched so much, I’d like to see a show,” you declare, peering down at him.
Matty’s brows furrow slightly, hardly able to recognize the fiery girl above him, his eyes flickering over you with astonishment. He clears his throat, shifting on the couch.
“Yeah? What kind of a show are we talking about, babe?”
“One that your fans aren’t allowed to see,” you answer, your voice dripping with implication.
You reach down, running your fingers through his mop of hair, watching as he automatically leans into your touch, reaching to hold your arm. The look in his eyes… he’s enjoying this as much as you are. He’s not new to submission.
You feel the fire inside you being stoked, building and sparking, flames upon flames. You want to explore this. You want to know what it’s like to have control over the great Matty Healy.
“Alright. Let me make it up to you. I’ll do anything. Just tell me,” he murmurs, turning his head to kiss your wrist.
"Oh, you're playing nice now?" you say, raising your eyebrows at him. Your mind swims at the idea. Anything? He’ll do anything?
You glance off to the side, biting at your lip. It's clear that he means it, but you find yourself stonewalled by the thought of actually taking what you want and being commanding the way he can be with you. You can almost feel your confidence and fire from earlier draining from your body. Sure, you’ve fantasized about what it would be like to be in control, but now that it’s happening, you have no clue what to say or do that will be sexy and domineering. “Take your pants off, now”? No. No, that’s stupid. “Whip it out”? God, no. That’s worse. So much worse.
Matty’s expression softens at your uncertainty, finding it endearing and arousing all at once. He gently reaches to hold your hip, his thumb rubbing in little circles. He can see the way your conflicting thoughts have left you frozen.
"Hey, it's alright, love. It’s just me. You can tell me what you want. I'll give you anything. Just ask, yeah?" he says, speaking softer than before, the heat between you temporarily put aside as you try and wrap your head around the role reversal. “I want you to.”
You nod, focusing on the soothing feeling of him rubbing your hip, small circles that keep your feet grounded. Deep breath…
"Wanted to watch you touch yourself," you admit.
Matty’s eyebrows raise slightly. You search his eyes for aversion, but all you find is curiosity in their depths. The gears in Matty’s head are turning.
“Oh, do you now?”
“Mhm. Would you?”
He reaches for your other hip, beginning to guide you to sit on his lap until your legs are straddling him. You place your hands on his chest for support, your breathing shallow. There's a whole swirling mix of feelings inside of you: anxiety, desire, curiosity… but mostly need.
“Yeah, love. You wanna sit right here and watch me do it?” he says, his voice gravelly, “Touch myself right here in the dressing room?”
“Oh god, yeah,” you breathe.
Matty chuckles, leaning in close to your ear, his breath hot against your skin as he whispers.
"You're so sweet like this, all nervous.”
You shake your head as he starts to tease you, inching one hand up his chest to his neck, holding it there possessively. Not squeezing, but just resting, your fingertips brush over his throat. Matty smirks.
"No, no, don't do that. I'm still ticked off," you murmur.
"Oh, yeah? You still annoyed? What do I have to do to make it up to you?"
“Let me… let me be in charge,” you whisper.
Matty nods slowly, glancing down at the hand around his neck, his breathing a little heavier. He wants to let you have this because, really, it’s so hot for him to see you this way. He’s finding himself a bit lovestruck over being manhandled. He reaches up and places his hand over the one on his throat, gently holding it there before he looks up at you.
“Tell me what to do,” he says.
"Okay... okay," you whisper, bringing your other hand up to knot into his hair, "... kiss me."
“Yeah,” he murmurs, tilting his head up, “I can do that.”
His lips are on yours instantly, making you melt in the way only he can. It’s deep. He has your lashes fluttering as he licks into your mouth, his hands firmly on your hips. You rub your thumb up and down subtly against the column of his neck as your lips lock, the heat between you spiking.
“I’m yours… baby, please,” he murmurs against your lips, making warmth flush through your body.
Releasing your hold on him, you kiss from the corner of his swollen lips down Matty’s neck, feeling a pang of satisfaction at the way he instantly tilts his head for you. He lets out a low moan while you kiss and nip with your teeth, being unapologetically greedy with him.
“Fuck,” he whispers, his hips twitching under you, “Mark me.”
And you do. You suck and kiss at his collarbones until you’ve littered him with love bites. By the time you’ve pulled away, Matty looks desperate. He’s hard and aching under your thigh. His cheeks are flushed, his pupils blown wide as he softly pants.
“You’re— you’re looking at me like you wanna devour me,” he pants.
“Maybe I do…”
Matty shudders, taking your hand to kiss your palm with reverence, his deep, brown eyes locked on yours. The eye contact alone is enough to make the air feel electrified as he kisses his way up your arm.
“I can perform for you, baby,” he whispers, his voice laced with submission. Matty spreads his legs wide under you, his body language screaming surrender as his lips press to your skin, his breathing heavy. “You’re so fucking hot like this. See what you’ve done to me?”
Matty presses his hips up against yours pointedly, letting you feel how hard he is already. The stir between your legs only feels more prominent as he starts to rock against you. You’re soaked. You could really get used to seeing him be so needy.
You hold the side of his face, feeling the heat of his skin as he reaches down his body for the zipper of his leather trousers. Matty taps your thigh, signaling for you to lift your body. His eyes stay locked on yours, not once straying as he shimmies the tight fabric down his legs until they’re around his ankles.
“See something you like?” he whispers, watching your eyes flicker to his briefs.
Something bristles in you at that. He’s getting too cocky for your liking. He’s meant to be here to please you. To be pretty for you.
“God,” you mutter, gripping his jaw, “You’re such an attention whore.”
“Can you blame me? Been wanting your attention all day,” Matty grins, relishing your nails digging into his cheek.
“Well, you have it…” you say softly, your eyes flickering over his face, “Keep going.”
He chuckles, taking one hand and running it down his inked chest lower and lower, over his ribs and his stomach and…
“Whatever you want.”
Matty traces his fingertips over the outline of his erection, biting his lip as he teases himself. His cock jumps under his touch, causing him to shudder beneath you. He suddenly grasps himself through his underwear with a long exhale, his lashes fluttering at the sensation. It feels like every inch of your body was jolted awake at the sight. He starts to rub himself through the fabric slowly, precum darkening a spot on the front of his briefs.
“Is this good? This what you want?” he murmurs, “Me playing with myself for you?”
With a nod, you let go of Matty’s face, running your hands down his chest. You catch the way his hips twitch when your fingers brush his nipples.
“Fuck, touch me more,” he whines, his brows knitting together.
“Keep going, and maybe I will,” you whisper, watching him bite his lip with frustration.
Something possesses you as you reach for his right hand, bringing it to your lips. You kiss each of his fingertips before you spit into the palm of his hand, watching Matty’s lips part with a moan. Hastily, Matty shoves his briefs down just enough for his cock to land heavily on his stomach. He wastes no time, wrapping his slicked hand around himself and starting to stroke. It’s better than you could have dreamed.
“You look so good,” you murmur, thumbing over his chest just enough to make his hips arch off of the loveseat, “Feels nice?”
Matty whimpers as he tightens his fingers around his tip, nodding quickly. He’s so gorgeous, and he’s all yours.
“Yeah, even better when you’re watching me,” he pants, his eyes squeezing shut, “Wanna please you, baby. Wanna get you so wet.”
He starts to buck his hips into his fist, moving in tandem with his working hand. He’s moving faster now, like he wants to give you more, to give you everything. The obscene, slick noises fill the dressing room with his pleasured groans. Your other hand cards through his dark curls, pushing them away from his eyes that are dark with lust and concentration, his cherry lips parted with shallow breaths. He looks desperate, his hand tugging at his cock over and over, getting off on the attention just as much as his touch. With your heated gaze on him, he finds himself nearing the edge so much faster than usual. Matty’s voice comes out in a ragged, pleading whisper.
“Baby, I–” he gasps, running his thumb over his slit, spreading the pearls of precum.
“Hm?”
“I’m… I’m getting close, love. I need you… need you to tell me what to do,” Matty pants, looking at you with his pretty, hazy eyes as his hips rock below you.
“Already?” you smile teasingly, “You want me to take over now since you’re being so good?”
Matty nods vigorously, his eyes widening with need. With a sweet whimper, he takes your hand and places it on his flushed cheek, leaning into your touch desperately.
“Please, please, I’m so good. I’m a good boy. I want you to… need you to,” he mumbles deliriously. God, he really can be so sweet when he wants to be. You feel drunk on his submission.
Matty lets out a whine as you rewardingly pinch one of his nipples, his hips stuttering at the sensation.
“You like being touched like that?” you whisper, running your thumb back and forth over his cheek, watching his eyes roll back in his head.
Matty hesitates, his cheeks flushing a lovely, deeper shade of pink. He curses under his breath, his lashes fluttering as you rub in small circles on his chest.
“Yeah,” he admits breathlessly, too high on pleasure to truly feel embarrassed, “I’ve not… had a girl do that to me before.”
“No? Do you do it to yourself, sweetheart?” you whisper lowly, leaning down to kiss from his jawline to the sensitive spot just below his ear. He nods slowly with a moan, a shiver going down his spine as he continues to jerk himself off for you.
“Sometimes. But it feels much… much better when you do it, fuck.”
“That’s adorable,” you smile, feeling his head loll against your palm, his hair spilling to the side. He’s simply melting.
“Baby, please. I can’t… I can’t. I need you,” he pants, his body starting to tremble as he pathetically tries not to spill all over his fist, his muscles taught.
Your smile only widens against his neck. This is all too satisfying. You place both hands on his face, holding it, brushing a damp section of curls away from his face that’s painted with desperation. You can’t help but take a moment just to admire him, the way his brows draw together tensely as he tries to stave off his orgasm. You almost laugh, thinking about how audacious he was only twenty minutes ago, only to be reduced to a mess beneath you.
“You can stop now, honey,” you murmur, seeing the flash of relief in his eyes as his hand slows to a stop, falling back against the velvet couch.
“Oh christ, I nearly fucking blew my load. You’re terrible,” he shudders, chest heaving as he catches his breath.
“Ah, is that what you say to your lovely girlfriend who’s about to ride you?” you berate teasingly, lifting your hips up off of his lap.
Matty’s eyes go wide as you reach up your skirt and slide your thong down your legs, catching a glimpse of the glistening fabric. He groans softly, grasping your thighs and letting his fingers dig into the meat of them.
“Oh, no, no. Of course not. What I meant was… erm— god, I can’t think. Just fuck me,” he relents with a hazy sigh.
“That’s what I thought,” you grin, reaching to grasp the base of his cock.
You stroke him once, twice before positioning yourself over him, watching his eyes flicker between your face and your body as you run his tip through your folds. You sigh softly as his cock brushes your swollen clit, tossing your head back at the tingles that flood through you. But just when you’re about to sink down onto him, Matty grabs your hips hurriedly, stopping you.
“Wait. Please lift your skirt. Wanna see it go inside you,” he mutters, biting his bottom lip.
You just roll your eyes. He’s such a guy. Yet, you still reach to hike up the fabric of your skirt, keeping it lifted up as you start to slowly lower yourself onto his cock. Matty’s lidded eyes are trained on your cunt, fascinated as he watches himself disappear inch by inch. It never gets old for him.
“Ohh, fuck me,” he mumbles euphorically.
A lazy grin spreads across his face as you start to bounce in his lap, his head tilted back against the couch. You feel so full of him. Your stomach swoops with every rise and fall of your hips.
“Fuck, yeah,” he groans, grasping handfuls of your ass under your skirt, “You’re a sexy domme, sweetheart. Who knew you had it in you, huh? I thought I would have had to take over by now.”
“You talk too much,” you pant, reaching to tug at his hair, keeping his head back firmly, “Was much nicer when you were being good.”
“Fucking shut me up then,” he rasps, “Make me a good boy again.”
With a frustrated huff, you crush your lips to his, kissing him meanly, like you’re trying to bruise him. Matty groans deeply against your mouth, twitching inside of you as he responds in kind, his tongue shoving past your lips. You make out a muffled murmur of “That’s it, that’s how you fucking do it, baby.” The heat radiating between your bodies only spikes higher as you ride him harder. Your eager mouth swallows his whimpers as you give his curls a pull, his hands pitifully grasping at your hips, your ass, anything he can reach. He pushes at your chest, begging for a moment of mercy so he can speak.
“You’re doing so good, making me feel so—” he breathes, his voice wavering as he inches closer to his edge, “‘M not gonna last.”
“Ask me.”
Matty blinks.
“What?”
“Ask me to cum.”
Matty’s breath shudders, his cock giving a strong twitch inside of you. He looks stunned, maybe a bit impressed too. Typically, he’s the one demanding that you ask for his permission to let go. His mind is so loosened by the slam of your hips that he doesn’t hesitate for another second.
“Let me cum. Please, please, my love. Light of my fucking life, my everything, I need it,” he begs, his hand snaking between your bodies to rub at your clit.
“More,” you gasp, warmth blooming between your thighs.
“More begging? Or more of this?” he smiles, pressing down harder against your cunt, making you moan wantonly.
“Both, both,” you nod eagerly.
“Fuck, alright,” he shudders, continuing to circle your clit with his calloused fingertips, “Anything for you. Anything. Just, please, can I cum? I-I seriously can’t fucking do this much longer. I’m so close, so fucking close, baby, please. I’ll be good, I swear.”
Something about hearing him fucking beg has your cunt fluttering around him, the warmth threatening to crash over you. As fun as it’s been, you don’t want to deny him any longer. You want to watch him fall to pieces below you at your doing and yours alone.
“Cum for me,” you gasp, your hips moving furiously on top of his lap, his fingers still pressing on your clit just right.
Matty tries to thank you; he really does, but the words get caught in his throat as his climax rips through him, his back arching as his hips rock heedlessly, spilling inside of you with a strangled cry. The pure ecstasy on his face has you following after him, your pace faltering as the waves of your orgasm have you clawing at his hair. It’s so. So good. Such a different feeling when you’re on top of him, in control of his pleasure.
Neither of you moves an inch for the next few minutes, staying happily collapsed against each other in your shared haze. He holds you close on his lap, enjoying the warmth of still being inside of you. You feel so lazy, like never want to leave this couch. Who knew being in charge was so tiring?
“I should do that more often if it means you’ll ride me like that,” he murmurs.
Your eyes snap open, landing a slight slap on his chest. You can feel the rumble of his laugh against you as he just chuckles.
“I’m just messing. I’m messing, you know I love you,” Matty grins, placing a kiss on your temple, “Next time, I’ll just ask you to be dominant so I can take the night off from doing all the work.”
“I do plenty of work!” you protest with a scoff.
“Yeah, you do,” he coos, petting your hair, “I know, your poor jaw gets so sore.”
“Don’t say because of your massive dick.”
“Because of my massive— OW! Stop smacking me!”
Matty tackles you to the couch, grinning at the sound of your squeal. He stares down at you with his eyes narrowed playfully, slowly starting to lean down until his lips press to the tip of your nose.
“I’m serious though, you were great. Very sexy,” he smiles, tenderly brushing your hair away from your face.
“Yeah?”
“Oh, yeah. I’d let you put me in my place any day. My perfect girl,” Matty murmurs, his eyes almost twinkling as they flicker over your face.
“I’d happily do it again, if you deserve it,” you tease, beaming at him.
“We both know I will,” he whispers, leaning down to capture your lips in a gentle kiss.
#apologies if this is not very good!!! I haven’t written in a minute#MERRY CHRISTMAS MY LOVES#matty healy smut#matty healy x y/n#matty healy x reader#matty healy x you#matty healy fic#matty healy imagine#matty healy fanfic#matty healy fanfiction#the 1975 x you#the 1975 x reader#the 1975 fic#the 1975 smut#the 1975 fanfic
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Become Your Best Version Before 2025 - Day 23
Personal Style & Self-Presentation
Hi Goddesses! Let's talk about something that can be both super fun and slightly overwhelming, developing your personal style. This isn't about following trends or completely overhauling your wardrobe. It's about discovering and expressing who you are through how you present yourself to the world.
You know that feeling when you put on an outfit and just feel like you? That's what we're aiming for, not just occasionally, but every day. Whether you're a minimalist who loves basics, a maximalist who lives for patterns, or somewhere in between, your style should make you feel confident and comfortable in your own skin.
Let's break this down into areas where your personal style shines through:
Your Physical Space: Notice how some people's homes or workspaces instantly tell you something about them? That's personal style in action. Start by choosing one small area, maybe your desk or bedside table, and arrange it in a way that feels uniquely you. Maybe you love minimalism, or perhaps you're drawn to cozy chaos. There's no wrong answer!
Communication Style: Some people tell detailed stories, others are direct and brief. Some use lots of gestures, others are more reserved. Your communication style is part of your personal brand. Pay attention to when you feel most natural in conversations, that's often your authentic style peeking through.
Digital Presence: Whether it's your social media, emails, or work presentations, your digital presence is an extension of your personal style. Does your online presence feel aligned with who you are?
Body Language: Your posture, gestures, and how you move through space all contribute to your personal style. Try this: When you're feeling great, notice your natural body language. That's your authentic style in motion!
Alright, now for the fun part you’ve been waiting for: bringing your inner self to life through the way you dress! Your style should feel like an extension of you, not a costume you put on. When you choose clothes that reflect how you truly feel and who you are inside, that’s when everything aligns. Your confidence, your energy, and your authenticity will shine through, and you’ll feel more like yourself than ever before.
First steps to finding your style:
Notice what catches your eye
Pay attention to compliments you receive
Think about your lifestyle needs
Consider your comfort level
Remember your favorite outfits
Finding Inspiration to Create your style vision:
Make Pinterest boards by category
Save Instagram posts that inspire you
Notice patterns in what you save
Look at your favorite influencers' style
Take photos of outfits you love wearing
Understanding Your Style. Ask yourself:
What makes you feel confident?
Which colors brighten your mood?
What fabrics feel good on your skin?
What's practical for your daily life?
What represents your personality?
Building Your Wardrobe:
Choose a core color palette
Invest in quality basics
Find your perfect fit
Know your power pieces
Identify gaps to fill
Smart Shopping Tips:
Create a wishlist
Research before buying
Check fabric quality
Consider cost per wear
Sleep on big purchases
Keep your style accessible:
Group by category
Color coordinate
Make everything visible
Keep a donate box ready
Maintain seasonal rotations
Mix and Match. Creating endless outfits:
Learn your outfit formulas
Use the rule of three
Play with proportions
Experiment with layering
Accessorize thoughtfully
Beyond the Clothes. Complete self-presentation:
Develop a skincare routine
Maintain good grooming
Practice good posture
Keep clothes well-maintained
Pay attention to details
Growing with your style:
Adapt to life changes
Try new combinations
Update key pieces
Experiment safely
Trust your instincts
Quick ways to feel put-together:
Plan outfits ahead
Have go-to combinations ready
Keep shoes clean
Maintain accessories
Press key pieces
Creating Your Signature Look. What makes you, you:
Choose signature accessories
Find your perfect silhouettes
Know your best colors
Identify your style words
Discover your signature scent
Practical Style Tips:
Pack a backup outfit
Keep an emergency kit
Master quick fixes
Know your best angles
Plan for important days
Your Challenge for today:
Create a style mood board
Try a new combination from your closet
Remove three items you never wear
Take photos of your favorite outfits
Write down your style words
Remember these key principles:
Your style can evolve as you do
Authenticity trumps trends every time
Comfort and confidence are non-negotiable
Small tweaks can make big differences
Your style should support your goals and lifestyle
See you tomorrow for Day 24! Don't forget, the best style is the one that makes you feel like your most authentic self.
♡ ☆:.。 Keep glowing, babes! ♡ ☆:.。 With love, Goddess Inner Glow.
#personal style#be confident#be your best self#be your true self#becoming that girl#becoming the best version of yourself#confidence#growth mindset#it girl#self confidence#self improvement#it girl energy#pinterest girl#self development#self love#self care#self acceptance#glow up tips#glow up era#that girl#becoming her#self concept#lifestyle#dream life#it girl aesthetic#girl blogger#become that girl#girlblogging#girl things#girl blog aesthetic
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starring: carmy berzatto x male reader
request: Could I request the bear Dom top Daddy Carmy and Sub bottom femboy 18 year old male reader who started working at the restaurant and always wears sexy slutty little outfits so one night when they're alone carmy can't control himself the scraps are either by the hair starts kissing him turns reader around hikes up his skirt eats the reader out and it forces him to his knees and Carmy just starts face fucking telling Male reader be Daddy's good little slut armies then comes in the Reader's mouth forcing him to swallow it all picks the Reader up turns him around and then grabs him by the throat just starts f****** him reader screaming yes daddy so Carmy says I'm going to get you pregnant and fills them with so much cum that it's leaking out then he asked the needed to be his boyfriend/baby boy maybe as a bonus the next morning while they're working car meets at the counter cutting up food talking to customers and male reader's underneath the station sucking Carmy's cock and forces his whole cock and holds the reader head as he starts coming down his throat with cum kink Daddy kink semi-public sex rough sex and hair pulling kink
warnings: smut, femboy!reader, cursing, daddy kink, ass slapping, rough sex, deppthroat, face fucking, cum eating, ass eating
you were everything carmy wanted and more, your body made him absolutely feral, all he wanted to do was grope at you and feel your body, fuck you just always had to dress slutty when you came to work huh? he felt like you knew what you did to him but just acted dumb.
and although you were the new employee he took a much bigger interest in you rather than his other employees, the way you wore the shortest skirts that left nothing to imagination and no matter how many times richie tried to tell carmy to tell you to wear something more appropriate but he just waved him away and kept taking sneaky looks at yours ass.
but on one lucky night you and carmy were the only ones left in the restaurant after everyone called it a night, you in the back cleaning up the stations while carmy was in the front sweeping up all the trash that people somehow left, leaning back to peek into the kitchen and seeing you bent over picking up a dropped hand towel.
sneaking up behind you and spooking you a bit "oh fuck you scared me carmen" you say coming down from your shock, carmy who couldn't hold himself together for another second just pulls you into a kiss, his tongue roaming around in your mouth as his hands find their way to your ass "you're so damn hot" he huffs lifting your skirt and flicking your skimpy underwear onto your hole.
"can i fuck you" he asks finally pulling from your lips and all you could give was a lazy yes but that's all carmy needs before he's pushing you down on your knees and unzipping his pants to pull down his underwear and whip out his aching dick ans shoving your mouth on it, working your head back and forth on his length to lube it up some more to fuck you.
"yeah just like that fuckkk" he huffs satisfied by your surprising mouth skills, taking him all the way to the shaft with his balls repeatedly slapping your chin while you gag out moans "good boy you love being daddy's good little slut" he says giving one more big thrust and shooting his cum in your mouth, pushing your head to make sure you take every drop before lifting you up back on your feet.
turning you around and putting your hands on the counter and sliding his way into your hole, your moans filling the empty kitchen quickly, he tightly grabs your throat and tilts your head up to look at him, your back arched in the most perfect way for him to get as deep as possible.
"you like this dick huh baby" he smirks "yes daddy i love it so fucking much" you whine mixed with some struggled grunts as he slams back into you again and again "im gonna fill you up and get you all big and pregnant, you want that" carmy asks while his thrusts become more erratic "mhm breed me full of your cum carmy" you yell and carmy obliges, spilling his load into your hole until it was spilling out slightly.
you both sit therefor a couple minutes catching your breath before carmy drops to his knees and spreads your cheeks open and starts eating you out, feeding off his delicious cum that he just gave you "i thought you wanted me to get pregnant" you ask smiling "i can give you another load later tonight" he smacks your ass and gets back on his feet but not with out a little souvenir aka your underwear.
taglist:@mailmango @spermeboy @ghostking4m @gayaristocrat @addictedtomalepits @staarb0y @crispysoup318 @its-ares @gargoylesworld09 @znerac
#carmy berzatto#carmy berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto x male reader#x male reader#x male y/n#gay smut#x male smut#x male#gay#male reader#bottom male reader#carmy berzatto imagine#carmy berzatto smut#carmy the bear#carmy x reader#carmy x you#carmy berzatto fanfiction#the bear hulu#carmen berzatto
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