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steddieas-shegoes · 1 year

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Building furniture might actually be a circle of hell.

At least that’s what Eddie believes.

Steve is busy folding the clothes. There were so many clothes.

Babies needed so many clothes.

But they also needed cribs, which was what he was trying to build.

Trying being the keyword.

The instructions were terrible, and he’d given up on them 15 minutes ago. The drill he’d been using died before he even managed to need it, which meant the battery in it wasn’t charged, which meant he’d forgotten to plug it in when Steve told him to. He obviously wasn’t saying anything to Steve about that.

Steve offered to build the crib, insisting that he’d built his own bed frame and helped build a bookcase for Dustin.

But Eddie wanted to do this.

The call had come the day before, letting them know the baby was currently in the NICU and wouldn’t be released for four to five days, but could be released to them as temporary guardians if they could sign the paperwork and complete the house visit and interviews in time.

Obviously, they said yes, and it’s been a mad rush ever since.

In the mad rush, Eddie had offered to build the crib.

So here he was. Building it. Regretting his commitment. Wishing for death.

“How’s it going, Eds?”

“Great.”

He hopes the frustration can’t be heard in his tone, but Steve had been listening to his voice for almost 20 years at this point; he’s bound to catch it.

And he does.

“I can help. It’ll get done much faster if we both do it.”

“This is a one person job, sweetheart. I can do it.”

“Uh huh.”

Eddie looked at the screws and bolts and 2x4s currently in a pile in front of him and then up at Steve smiling at the clothes in his hand.

He thought about how long they’d waited for this, how Steve had given up on his big family dreams to be with Eddie and let him have his big dream of being a rockstar first.

How even when he finally stopped recording and touring, they still faced the fact that most places wouldn’t let them adopt together. That the world still didn’t think they could be good parents despite having everything a child would need in abundance. Especially love.

They both wanted this and both waited for this, but Eddie knew Steve was in heaven.

It was all he wanted for so long, and now it was happening, and happening so soon.

They were going to be parents.

They were going to have a daughter.

Eddie stood up suddenly and walked over to Steve, who paused what he was doing and looked at him with his brows furrowed, concern overtaking his features that were previously so relaxed.

Eddie pulled him into a kiss, one hand gliding through his hair to the back of his head, keeping him in place with his other hand on his hip.

When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against Steve’s, smiling at him.

“Will you help me build the crib?”

Steve looked at him with those beautiful wide eyes, the same ones he’d fallen into in 1986 and never emerged from.

“You want my help?”

“I want us to do this together.”

Steve bit his lip, nodded, and placed a soft kiss to the corner of Eddie’s mouth.

“We should get started, then.”

“I did start.”

“Baby, you’ve emptied the box and thrown away the instructions. That’s not starting.”

“Hey! I also separated the pieces that match!”

Steve rolled his eyes, but his smile said he was amused.

“You’re right. You did great, Eds.”

“Thank you. Now, don’t be mad, but the drill isn’t charged.”

Steve blinked at him, grabbed the drill, and flipped the switch on the bottom to ‘on.’

He pushed in the button.

It turned on.

“Oh.”

“Thank God you’re hot.”

“I helped save the world!”

“But a baby crib is what’s gonna take you out.”

Eddie smirked.

“You could take me out.”

Steve was busy looking at the pieces on the floor, but still responded.

“If you actually help me, I’ll take you for milkshakes after, how about that?”

“Bribery works. Deal.”

It took hours, and it probably shouldn’t have, but Eddie didn’t mind.

When Steve sat on his lap, staring at the crib pushed into the corner of the nursery, tears in his eyes, he didn’t think Steve minded all that much either.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #tumblr drabbles #future fic #rockstar Eddie Munson is mentioned but not a single detail is given #Steve Harrington wants to be a mom so bad #domestic fluff #in my own canon Eddie is useless with tools #Steve is also useless but less so #Wayne gets called frequently to help #but they do this by themselves because they’re basking in the glow

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hcdragonwrites · 9 months

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Epilogue ( @journey-to-the-au Fic)

This is what happens at the end of Tea trouble. It’s just short but it’s because I wanted to write fluff and cuddles and warmth.

The sun sank slowly into the sea, painting that great swath of liquid to fire. Willow felt the soft weariness sneak into her face as finally, finally her family mounted their heavenly steeds and kept back into the sky. The stars were beginning to appear in the darkening night. Gold, wood, water and fire. They marked the sky with their light as she waved her sisters goodbye.

From the mouth of babes came a second peace, a second chance. Lychee had offered the peach and Winter had taken a bite from it. An exchange and a wave of apologies. Willow had spent that time swapping tales and trading secrets of her home. Of her mountain. With her sisters. They listened attentively. They touched her hand- sought comfort and reassurance they had not lost her forever in their callous remarks. Willow reassured, reaffirmed and rebounded with each of her sisters.

She was exhausted. Willow sighed, itching her scalp. Her hairpins still bothered her, and her clothes felt too heavy. She wanted nothing more then to sleep for a fortnight. Anger was an emotion Willow rarely dove into, rarely utilized and unleashed. Calm rage? Yes. Anger that blinds like this one did ? No. It left her feeling achy and tired and o so sensitive to her skin.

Willow sighed. She was so thankful to the fruit troop, to Pear and Apple, Pomelo and Mulberry. And Lychee. The bravest little mischief maker ever. The first to offer a olive branch to her sisters and to forgive them. No one will talk that way to them ever again.

For now as the sun cast itself into the sea Willow felt her final strength ebb and fade with its light. She took a step back to rebalance herself —

Great large furred arms swung her up and over broad shoulders. She squealed in surprise as Wukong raised her up, growing in size himself.

“WILLOW!” He practically roared as the rest of the mountain followed suit. Thousands of the troop came racing forward, pressing close and reaching up to her from the spot on Wukongs shoulders. The rest of them were crowing and hollering and screaming. Calling her name.

“Gather the softest pillows and blankets ! The night will hold for us all- set the guards to chasing any beasts out of the groves. Light the fire pits! And everyone GATHER YOUR FAVORITE FRUIT!” Willow heard the roar of the crowd as they thundered off. Hammocks were pulled between trees, bundles of blankets and pillows and downy things were dragged and set down in the field. Monkeys lit the fire pits that lined the clearing, the great orange light casting dancing shadows as the sun continued its decent. Willow saw the troop laugh and chortle as they brought fruits out. A veritable second feast of food. Kiwis, grapes, oranges, watermelons, melons and nectarines.

Wukong kept Willow on his shoulders. Willow was too tired to ask why or deny the outward pouring of love from her earthen family. This was just the way they heaped support and love onto her. A veritable jungle of nests and hammocks, of blanketed caves and soft spots to lay soon covered the grass all around.

To tangle and tug and touch was the Monkey way of showing love. Willow sighed, laying against her husbands very soft and large head.

“What did I do ? It was all my fault.”

“Hush you I won’t hear you taking the blame for others ever again.” Wukong admonished. Several of the troop had gathered nearby, dragging a forest of bedding and plush to make nests and enjoy the night. Wukong set himself down in the thick of the troop, taking Willow up off his shoulders and into his lap. His tail coiled around her a hand against her middle. The giant monkey practically swamped her as he chirped and cooed, crooned and kissed her temples and nose.

“Wukong don’t swallow her!” Ba admonished. Willow peered from between the fur of Wukongs neck. She felt like a chick beneath a mother hen, completely covered and warm. She saw Ba setting up a little nest beside them. Beng was busy swinging Pomelo and Mulberry about-throwing them into pillows that bounced them slightly in the air.

“Save some for the rest of us please.” Ba snorted. Lychee was seated on Chestnuts shoulders talking his mothers ear off about his day and how he and his friends had gotten Little Weaver Girl to braid them flower crowns. He still wore his on his brow, eyes bright. They two set their bedding and nesting material down beside them.

“Are we all sleeping out beneath the stars ?” Willow asked. Wukong didn’t say yes with words. He was too overcome with an emotion, a puff of pride that expanded his chest. Here was his Willow Tree. The strong women who had been betrothed to him but had chosen him- heart and soul. Willow who had turned Huaguoshan into a protected area. Willow who had stalwartly sat beside him when he had been burning and boiling and close to madness inside that bronze prison. Willow who had bravely offered herself to the Imposter to save the rest of his family. And it had been Willow again who had chosen his people and family, his friends and loved ones, and had brought to heel celestial who thought they could talk down to him and what was his.

Whatever I did - whatever luck shot through my sky and made my stone sentient - I am glad it made me in time to be with her.

“Yes princess.” He softly whispered to her. “You defended all of us yet again. You brilliant warrior.” For she was a warrior. Not of blades or fists or claws of teeth. Words were her weapon and she used them brilliantly. More accurate then an arrows fall, she pierced Huaguoshan enemies with no bloodshed.

If I had met her when I was seeking my enlightenment … before I sought Heavens recognition… he wondered. Would his life have gone on a entirely new path? Wukong mussed her hair with his teeth, nibbling until she tapped his jaw in play.

His friends settled about them and the rest of the troop began to visit Willow, offering food and comfort. The little bundle of baby fruits ran across the clearing. They had been hero’s and they didn’t even know it.

Wukong lay curled over and around Willow like some large languid cat, tail tucked possessively about her. He became larger still, letting the little fruits climb onto his back in their play. Rin Rin came forward and Wukong allowed her to take Willows hair down, to groom and to ease her scalp.

Rin Rin heard the story as Wukong, Ba, Liu and Beng recounted it. They were now all here against Wukongs side, grooming and offering fruits or each other, to Willow. The love was a warm glow in the night , a glow that came from within and rivaled that of the dying sunlight. Ba kept off his pranks and offered Willow sour green grapes- and his deepest vows of loyalty. Wukong snorted happily, a large hand gently scratching along Willows back. Beng checked their little word warrior over and then gave her a single hardy shake. Ma was blubbering with Rin Rin who simply held on and brushed Willows hair out. Liu bowed and offered his own vows of loyalty- setting Ba to trying to outdo him.

Wukong waited till the stars were bright in the sky, the moon rising now to cast her silver light to whisper and speak praise and words of love. He wanted to drown her in the emotion that beat in his chest. It was a glow as steady as the sun and as wild as the world. It was not the same love Rin Rin or Liu or Ba or Chestnut Or Beng Or Ma experienced.

Forever and always. I will See her days filled with joy and peace. I will topple the very pillars that hold this world up to give her that. Wukong watched her burrow into his side, fingers curled in his fur. He looked to the sky, to the Heavens. To beyond that- to the cosmic sphere of reality. The universe beyond the Heavens.

“Thank you for making her. She’s perfect.” Words failed. Perfect was so silly of a word. Willow was more then perfect. She was victorious, stalwart, kind, compassionate, a stone to rest his back against and the shade that hid him from the burning sun.

“I will keep you. Forever. Until the very definition of eternity crumbles. Thank you Willow, for filling my days with your love.”

Wukong kissed her temple and pulled her into his warmth, pulling several of his with her. Tails and hands, feet and limbs all intercrossed and overlapped. They were tangled, intertwined like the roots of a tree. Grounding the willow tree they all loved to their earth, to their mountain.

#hcwrites #writing stuff #hcfanfics #just something soft #I could have made this longer but #I just wanted it to be a happy little memory.#is the new hoizer album making me romantic even though the song I’m listening to is about endings #yes it is making me romantic #also just talking about fluff makes me want to write it.#jttw au #for journey to the au #jttw tag #sun wukong #jttw sun wukong #earth reaching willow #marshal liu #ugh the song makes me so soft #I just love love man.#yes they all pulled nesting stuff out.#Wukong wanted to bask in the love- Willow would probably have said it wasn’t nessicary if it wasn’t for how tired she is #Rin Rin gave Willow the best scalpe message so she could not get a headache from the pins she had to put her hair up #Ba trying to outcompete Liu on who values Willow most.#that’s flower fruit mountains willow #the mountain isn’t letting her go jsut as much as the monkeys upon it #I Like to thing that Wukong may have been talking to a cosmic spirit- or just telling the universe thanks for making willow

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distant-screaming · 3 months

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okay well don't say that alan the likelihood of them jeopardizing work just went up exponentially 😭😭

#let me bask in the fluff okay #also such an older brother thing to say #dee watches pit babe #pit babe the series #pit babe

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foxsoulart · 25 days

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TMayNT day 6!

Did you know crocodiles and alligators also love basking? I think it would be absolutely adorable if Leatherhead basked with the turtles

#tmnt #tmnt 2012 #leatherhead 2012 #tmnt leatherhead #crocodile #tmaynt #basking in the sun #lookit the little guy #tmnt fluff #a fluffy thing #happy vibes

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potatoesandsunshine · 1 year

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flying very close to the sun (working on a d&d au for legally blonde)

#look. sometimes you just gotta make a meal of only comforting things #i have STRONG feelings about bard elle and sorcerer vivian #and i just wanna curl up in this au a little. it's fluff. i'm basking

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theclaravoyant · 10 months

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aziraphale holding his crowley kissing him on the neck and breathing him in . what are you doing, angel? i'm just ... recharging

#the fluff i need it #good omens x heartstopper #i am also here for the role reversal I JUST LOVE THEM BASKING IN EACH OTHER #ineffable husbands #ineffable spouses #heartstopper spoilers

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just-absolutely-super · 1 year

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Fluff time

Mayl had been a bit insecure over her body after giving birth

She knew her body would change when she got pregnant, but she had the hope that all her clothes would fit right again after having Patch. They did not.

Lan: you've been down lately Mayl. Do you wanna talk about it?

Mayl: my body has changed so much. I knew it would happen, but none of my old clothes feels right anymore.

Lan: oh I am sorry Mayl.

Mayl: it's not fair that Roll, Megaman and even you have not changed at all. Only me.

Lan holds Mayl tightly, and kisses the top of her head.

Lan: I know it's unfair. Roll and Megaman might not get it, cause they're body doesn't change like that, but sooner or later mine will too. That's just life.

Lan: besides you just had a baby, your body was able to create a baby. How awesome is that. My body can't do that.

Mayl: you helped though

Lan: I didn't carry him for 9 months, that was all you. You're awesome

Mayl: but I got stretch mark now.

Lan: that's just free lightning tattoos. Besides you're even more beautiful now then before.

Mayl: you know, you can be very sweet Lan. I am glad I married you.

JUST FUCK ME UP

I LOVE THIS SO MUCH AKSKDKFJD

Mayl still has her insecure moments, even after getting back to her pre-pregnancy weight she’ll look in the mirror and think her body isn’t quite right

Lan: Stop

Mayl: Stop what?

Lan: Stop thinking you aren’t pretty anymore because you are

Mayl: I-I wasn’t thinking that!

Lan: You know I didn’t marry you for your looks right?

Mayl: Well, there’s nothing wrong with wanting to look good…

Lan: But you do look good! I’ve ever been more attracted to you!

Mayl: Really?

Lan: Yes really! Now come here!

They kiss and Lan rubs her stretch marks because he thinks they’re rad as hell

#DON’T MIND ME I’M JUST BASKING IN THE FLUFF WITH A SIDE OF CHEESE #I adore them #maylan #anon #responses #mmbn hc land

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tetrilys · 1 month

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"Give Me Patience, Give Me Peace" sounds like something up my alley (Angst Alley to be precise)

~ 🍂

Funny you should mention this one! It's actually a sequel to Nothing's Ever Built To Last (NEBTL) - the Batfam WIP I previously mentioned.

Lots of domestic things, bonding, and struggles as our characters recover from the events of NEBTL. I'm honestly spilling over with things to write in this one and the number of chapters is unknown at the moment, but I really can't wait to share it with everyone!

#thank you for asking!!#<3 #ask game #wip ask game #batfam #lots of fluff #and angst #and relationships straining #did i mention fluff??#my goal is to simultaneously give off rainy day in the city and basking in the sunshine #love youuuu~

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grumpywaterfalls · 2 years

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The (Love) Struggles of Aomine

The (Love) Struggles of Aomine by the_crazyones

Kuroko No Basket

Length: 2,327 (complete)

Rating: General Audiences

Pairing: Aomine/Momoi

Author Summary:

The numerous hijinks Aomine endures as he tries to confess to Momoi.

#Kuroko No Basket #Aomine/Momoi #the_crazyones #bask: 0 to 5k #bask: complete #bask: general audiences #bask: canon #bask: fluff #bask: friends to lovers #bask: high school

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chuluoyi · 9 days

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✎ baby to the rescue

- gojo satoru x reader

in which gojo recruits your baby son to “save” you from a credit card salesman

genre: immense fluff !! baby gojo and dad!gojo shenanigans~

note: based on this and this reel. with this i hereby declare that anything past chapter 235 is null and void HAHA anyway, i truly want to post remarried empress au by this week but since 261 leaks hurt me so much, i need more fluff so have to postpone it to next week :') tagging @karikari19hikariiii <3

a part of gojo's love entries

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

Your husband Gojo Satoru... is handsome as hell, which means your baby son is also undeniably good-looking.

"Why do you pout at me?" Satoru poked his squirming baby's cheek while pursing his lips too. "C'mon, smile! That auntie is smiling at you!"

Everyone who passed by them in Shinjuku shopping district turned heads to admire him and his pumpkin just a little longer, and Satoru visibly enjoyed the attention. He smiled back at them, occasionally winking even.

If only they knew how pretty his wife was too...

Wait, no! On second thought, if they know how hot you are, there will be problems!

You had left him to go to the nearest pharmacy to restock some things, while Satoru decided to entertain his baby in the toy section. He basked in the starry-eyed looks people were giving him... until he heard some strange sounds and turned to his baby boy—

—who was chewing the beak of a duck toy with all his might. Satoru was mortified.

"—! Let that go! Your mama will beat me if she sees you eating this!"

Your baby paid him no mind though, desperately pushing the duck into his mouth. Satoru sat him on one of the empty racks and began the tug of war—

"Let go!" he reprimanded. "You're so naughty, gods—!"

Some people were now openly giggling at both of them. His son tried to resist by rolling, and Satoru clicked his tongue. He then yanked the toy away until his baby finally let it go, sniffling sadly that his papa wouldn't let him have the duck.

"Oh, you..." he picked him up again and consoled the pumpkin. "You can't do that, you hear? First, it's not clean. Second, mama will grow two heads to chew you and me both, understand?"

No, your son totally didn't understand a thing. Satoru sighed, seeing his little blue eyes welling up with tears. He ruffled his head and pulled him close. "There, there... I'll get you ice cream, okay? Now let's go."

Satoru was determined to turn his son back into a smiling, happy baby. But just as he was about to head towards the ice cream parlor, he encountered the most unbelievable sight—

"Miss! I guarantee you'll love this credit card features!"

You. That was clearly you, and a salesman (or a bozo, in Satoru's eyes) was trying to bother you.

You raised an eyebrow. "Uh, no— thank you—"

Yet the bozo was still persistent, like the pesky fly he was. "You can use it to pay for your monthly beauty treatments! Someone as pretty as you..." He eyed you from head to toe, blinking suggestively. "Oh my! Your skin is flawless! You have to maintain it this way! I can also give you recommendations for—"

You were wearing a flare dress that made you look so young and petite, and obviously, Satoru too was lusting after you. And true, your skin was smooth like a soft serve of mochi, but still!

You are meant for him and his eyes only! Oho, this bozo would get heavenly punishment.

He had to get to you somehow, but this was public space and if he cooked up some sort of shenanigan, you would put him in sex ban. I can't have that! so Satoru wracked his brain to think of another way...

Once again, his gaze fell on his now calm baby, who was also looking at his mama over there with utter curiosity. And an idea immediately popped up in his mind.

"Hey, kiddo, look at that, a bad man is trying to take your mama," Satoru nudged him as if trying to egg him on. "We can't let that happen. Will you help me to save her, hmm?"

"Mama..." your baby looked back at him so innocently before smiling. "Mamaaa!"

"Good boy." Gods, his baby was so adorable, he almost felt bad for doing this but...

Swallowing his guilt, thinking he would make it up later, he pinched his son's butt a little too firmly—

"WAAAA!" and suddenly, the little boy burst into tears, and even Satoru was surprised by the sheer volume of his wail.

The sudden inconsolable sound of your baby sent you scrambling in panic, your eyes wildly searching for him, completely disregarding the credit card man. "My baby!"

"Eh?" the credit card man was visibly surprised. "Oh... so, you're married...?"

You immediately made your way towards Satoru and snatched your baby from him, hugging him tightly. "Oh, there, there... What happened to you?" you shot your husband a distaste look as your son kept wailing. "Satoru, why is he crying?"

He nonchalantly shrugged. "Maybe missing his mama? Dunno~"

By now, you had completely forgotten the credit card bozo, but he still looked at the three of you in mild surprise. Satoru took this chance to approach him and whisper in his ear:

"You see, my wife doesn't need your credit card," he whistled. "My cards or lumpsum money will do more than enough."

After seeing how pale the bozo looked, Satoru chuckled darkly... before leading you and your son away from the crowd, with one arm possessively around your waist.

Epilogue

"I'm sorry— I'm sorry, okay!?"

Satoru looked down at his son in utter hopelessness, as the little boy refused to be held by him, looking at him with teary, resentful eyes, and backing away from him in his playpen.

Can babies hold a grudge? Satoru didn't know, but his son definitely was not happy with him, and he couldn't think of any other explanation other than his sin against him back this afternoon.

"I've bought you mochi ice cream!" he opened his palm to reveal the treat. "Don't you want some? Papa will give you some, yeah?"

Baby looked skeptical now, and at that moment, he resembled you so much—accusing eyes, pursed lips, exactly like the expression you would pull when you were unsure of what Satoru might do next. He almost chuckled at the resemblance, feeling giddy.

"C'mon, forgive me, yeah?" he patted his son's little beanie and offered his hand for him to take, eyes crinkling in fondness. "Now, here comes your treat, come closer?"

Your baby crawled closer, seemingly accepting him, and Satoru was all smiles, until—

Whack!

It happened in a flash. He could have avoided it, but he was too taken aback. The pain exploded in his jaw, so intense that he grunted loudly.

"What the—?! You... you—! You kicked me— in the face!"

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muntitled · 9 months

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COULD U DO MATTHEO X F READER DURING HER OVULATION WEEK AND SHES SUPER NEEDY AND HORNY? (Pls I’m ovulating and craving ur fics so bad babe😭🙏🧎🏼‍♀️)

I love how feral this is lmfao -

𝐍𝐨 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐬 | 𝐌.𝐑.

Mattheo Riddle x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Established Relationship, Dark Fic, Violence, Language, Mention of drugs and alcohol, Slight fluff, Public Affections, Possessiveness, Smut (+18), Dirty Talk, Touch starvation, Fingering, Humping, Grinding, Whining, Sub/Dom Undertones, Blood Kink, Fighting Kink?, Squirting, Major Degradation, Praise Kink, Breeding Kink, Slight Humiliation Kink

The night is deep, and the dungeon is dim as a few sunken eyes peer curiously at you while you make your way through the crowd. Seeing you emerge from within the walls of your private dorm room was a rare and curious sight for everyone involved. It was especially rare for you to embed yourself amongst your fellow pupils shenanigans, seeing yourself as above such baseless devilment.

You were not here for them.

You were scanning the crowd for him because an unfamiliar warmth had been festering inside your stomach and it had propelled your feet forward, until you reached the very centre of the Slytherin soiree commencing in the common room.

Your core is still aching with the after affects of your fingers as you manoeuvre your way through the party. You were touching yourself under satin sheets only moments ago-spurred on by the imaginings of his bloodied fingers slipping inside you, stabbing your cunt until you mewled like a useless whore and he affirmed you as such. His recklessness and delinquency cracked something vital in your brain and you felt yourself get wetter as you pushed through the crowd. You needed him to touch you, your body practically burned for him to absolutely ruin you, and you set out to do just that.

Although you had turned down a concoction of Firewhiskey from an already inebriated Ravenclaw student, your stomach burns with the anticipation of seeing him.

Feeling him.

Smelling his near constant fragrance of Firewhiskey along his lips. You were never clingy but you wished for nothing more than to be in the presence of your insufferable and clingy boyfriend.

A month into your courtship, and you had failed to bring up how much of his habits bypass all sensibilities in your brain. If only he knew how much his recklessness brought about an unmistakable moisture in between your thighs. That,coupled with his bruised and bloody knuckles, spurred on your need, especially during this time of the month.

It had been easy to maintain your composure throughout the rest of the month, effortless, even. Detachment and independence was a by-product of your personality, showing up in the way you shied away from Mattheo's public affections and always appearing uninterested in any of his verbal charms.

One such occasion; you had found him taking up purchase on your bed after an incredibly tiresome day as a Slytherin prefect.

"Make yourself scarce, Riddle. I'm not in the mood," He, of course, was delighted in your indifference- truthfully, he basked in it. Mattheo was somewhat of a masochist, craving the attention of someone so emotionally detached. The very second he noticed how unaffected you appeared with his shenanigans. He might as well have transfigured into a mermaid, because he was hooked.

"How easy you are to repel my affections," He said, letting a bandaged hand fall on his chest as he lay supine like a starfish on your Satin sheets, "How swiftly you deny my companionship-"

"Dont you have any orphans to torture?"

You mourn the past you... how indifferent she had been.

How utterly in control!

The bed dipped as he slithered closer, letting a hand rest on your shoulders as he began to knead the tense muscle there.

"Don't I get a 'How was your day, Riddle?' How did you sleep, Riddle? How did you acquire these bruises, Riddle, and I hope you looked hot doing it, Riddle" it was then that you glanced at the hand on your shoulder. Busted knuckles bred bloodied and broken skin. Riddle's hand was a smorgasbord of cuts and bruises that disappeared up his black, cotton sleeve shirt. You ignored the useless warmth knotting in your core as you continued to undo your shoelaces.

"I needn't ask you because I know you were in the centre of yet another degenerate fight," you had said, burying all the feelings of need amongst your usual, scholarly distractions.

"You love it"

"I hate it actually. It makes me question my affiliation with you.

"You say that princess, but you secretly love it"

You did love it, and right now, distracting yourself is not an option. You watch with bated breath as the object of your affections walks into the Slytherin common rooms. There are plenty of bodies swaying in the dungeons illuminated by various Ravenclaws who have casted Lumos

You see Riddle across the room, head thrown back while he nursed a cup of Firewhiskey. When his head comes back, he sees you too, he raises his cup and he pushes himself off the wall to lessen the distance between you. Your legs certainly achieve a quicker gait as you push past the swaying bodies and soon enough you're bombarded by firewhiskey, with an undercurrent of sweat and leather.

The second you’re close, Riddle lowers his cup on the desk, already having his explanations ready for the impending combat. "If you think I'm gonna let you take my freedom away again, you’re fucking crazy. I'm barely buzzed and I'm getting drunk, or high by the end of this night and there's nothing you-" But your fist is already digging into the softness of his button up shirt and your lips are open as you force them onto his.

Right there, in the open.

Mattheo is naturally stunned, possibly discombobulated.

Had he really gotten higher than he thought?

Did that fucking Hufflepuff make him a stepped on joint?

Frankly, he couldn't care less, and as the shock of it all wore down, and he could feel you begin to slip away, Mattheo slithers his battered hand around your waist and pulls you impossibly close. He smirks into the kiss, as he brings his hand up, fingers gliding across your collarbone, while the other hand lingers around your waist.

"What happened to your hand?" It is a question that threatens to burst the bubble established between the two of you. Why would you ask him this? Why would you bring him back to the events of earlier today when you were so prettily malleable in his hands right now?

"Nothing,"

"Matt..." You say, clouding your words with innuendo, which has him looking up at you with furrowed brows.

"Nott," Is all he says before he buries himself in the crook of your neck. His proximity awakens something animalistic inside of you, it pushes you to the depths of your lascivious desires and has you melting right there on the dance floor. All around you, fellow Slytherins continue to sway to the beat, letting the thrum of the enchanted muggle music speak for them. You throw your head back, gasping at the overwhelming need pooling in your core as Riddle begins to send reckless kisses down your collarbone, all while you imagine beating another guy silly. You blame your cycle. You blame your body. You blame every single hormone responsible for allowing you to emit such a wanton moan so openly in the very centre of a crowd.

"Who do I have to kill in order to get this reaction out of you everyday?" Mattheo is panting, with his hazel eyes dilated (whether from pleasure or substance, you might never know). Who do I have to curse in order to get you to be this slutty for me every single day?" His breathing is shallow and audible, even through all the noise. Mattheo's mind is foggy and the party guests are reduced to a memory. The only image he's able to conjure up is his lips between your wet folds - his tongue eager to find the source of your need while you moaned above him and kneaded your own breasts in a slutty haze.

"I need you, Mattheo," it was fucking infuriating to admit but the wetness has completely soaked through your underwear and a fresh scar is present in the corner of Mattheo's eye. There's a slight red smudge under his nose, and his knuckles are red and angry at the best of your neck, cradling your head close to his.

"Say that again-"

"What? No, I will not fucking-"

Mattheo's grip on your neck immediately unhooks and he detangles your limbs but before he ventures any furthers you're pulling him down to you and with your lips to Mattheo's greedy ears you angrily mutter, "I fucking need you. I need you really badly,"

He stares in your desperate, dark eyes with wonder and awe before letting your wrist be enclosed by his iron grip. Soon, you're being dragged through a Slytherin party with a boy adjusting the front lf his pants and barking orders at the drunken strangers to move before they fucking died.

Just as you succeed in cutting through the crowd a voice stops both of you in your tracks.

"I'm going to fucking kill you, Riddle," the voice booms from over the thumping bass of whatever muggle music was enchanted over the dungeon. Mattheo's gaze cuts away from you, but before he turns completely away, a slow Cheshire cat grin curls at the ends of his lips.

"That threat has grown so unimaginably tedious after years of overuse, Theo but I can't do this right now-" His sentence has already been cut short by an audible blow to his lower jaw. Theo Nott blocked your path towards the darkened hallway, leading to your dorm room and you're left wholly unsatisfied as Mattheo is sent barreling backwards. He lets go of your hand, stopping to wipe the wetness at the corners of his lips and checking to see if it's blood. It is. And something scratches inside of you.

The Prefect inside you wants to intervene but an even darker part of you tells you not to.

Theo is livid, and his wide chest rises and falls as he descends on Mattheo,

"Why the fuck am I being told by Draco of all people, that I can't play Keeper because I'm stuck in the hospital wing-"

"Theo, I really don't have the time for this-" Mattheo begins, but Theo cuts him short,

"Are you trying to steal my fucking place, Riddle?"

Mattheo's voice is leveled as he raises his fingers and says, "Okay, first off, yeah, I am. Obviously I'm trying to take your place. You're a shit Keeper and secondly, I've got somewhere to be," Theo's barreling towards Mattheo once more.

A silly, borderline maniacal smirk explodes on Riddle's face before he makes the shotgun decision to charge and lands a punch at Theo's jaw, allowing for the taller boy to stagger backwards. Your shoulders jump, and you flinch at the sickening sound as you watch with a wide gaze as Mattheo nurses his hurt hand. Theo is a raging bull, but Draco appears from the crowd, with a firm grip on Theo's shoulder. A stern, quiet reprimand.

At the exact same moment, Mattheo's hand finds yours and he smirks as he stalks past Nott, wiping away at his chin as he leads you towards your dorm.

The quietness within is almost jarring compared to the noise out there and as soon as the door closes, Mattheo's lips descend on your neck, "I know, I know," He sighs heavily, as he brings his hand up to your shoulder, "I’m sorry. I just hope I haven't ruined the vibe-"

"I want your fingers inside me, Riddle." He stills at your quiet command, and you leave him standing by the door as you pad over to your bed. "I don't know why, but I just need you, okay? And my own fingers aren't quite doing the trick and I keep thinking about how fucking crazy you are and-", You sigh as you sit at the foot of the bed. Lifting the skirt of your dress, Mattheo watches in the dimness of your room as you venture your fingers under your dress and hook them into your panties. He walks towards you, propelling the wings of the butterflies in your stomach.

All he says is, "Which hand?" He doesn't know why he asks, but he does and his voice is barely above a whisper as he hopes you pick the right answer. His cock twitches in his underwear at the thought of seeing his blood on your skin.

Mattheo stops in between your legs, causing the fabric of the dress to rise while a breeze drifts over your soaked pussy. You bend forward and reach for his bloodied hand.

"I want your fingers inside me,"

Mattheo's resolve immediately snaps and his hands grip tightly at your hips, pushing you backwards and exposing your wet core to him.

"You're fucking dripping through the sheets like a slut- you're a fucking slut,"

Excitement. It rushes through you like a wave of magma at the neediness in his own voice.

Matheo rushes to rid both of you of the excess fabric, casting Evansco, until all he can see is your warm, glistening skin.

"Oh my fuck-" Mattheo's voice cracks as he stares down at your aching cunt, his fingers almost instinctively rubbing over the wetness.

"Touch your breasts," He commands, "I wanna see you do it,"

Your eyes pierce into his dark ones as you bring a shaky hand up towards your puckered nipples. The smallest brush elicits a violent streak of pleasure which would have occupied your entire mind were it not for Mattheo's long fingers already stabbing into your dripping cunt.

"Fuck, you're so wet," He whines, unconsciously burying his hips into the sheets at the foot of your bed as he watches. He is utterly transfixed by his middle and ring finger disappearing into your cunt. Every time they sink deeper your mind gets filled with images of Riddle's unrest and violence. You're utterly wrecked with the thought of his bloodied fingers being inside you, touching the most private parts of you.

"Pick up the pace, Riddle,"

"Shut the fuck up," He mumbles as he takes his time in exploring the very depths of you. Your voice soars to higher octaves as you feel your first orgasm cresting quite literally against your will. How utterly embarrassing, to cum so quickly.

"You're fucking squeezing my fingers- fuck-" You're desperately humping at his hand, hoping your hips might achieve the feat of sinking his fingers further into you. "You're humping my hand so fucking well." His cock aches as he continues to grind it into the sheets, in tandem with your swollen cunt taking his fingers.

"Are you seriously going to cum so soon? Are you that desperate to get fucked-" Your cunt spasms around his fingers and you're moaning as you squeeze your sensitive breasts, already soaring to the heights of your orgasm. Your screams rival the music outside but Riddle never tells you to keep quiet, instead he watches with hungry eyes as your body melts into its orgasm.

"Look at what the fuck you've done," Mattheo's words have you slowly coming back to earth, but not quite... his voice is heavy with lust as you raise yourself by your elbows. Your stomach sinks as you watch Mattheo, he's frozen in front of you, with his head lowered and his gaze on his palm.

"I-I'm sorry-" Your sheets were soaked with your release, leaving a visible damp spot. You squirted everywhere.

"You're gonna do that on my cock," before you can comprehend your words Mattheo already has his cock positioned at your wet folds.

"I'm going to fucking cum inside you and you're going to take it, yeah?" The serious shadow in his darkened eyes hold no room for negotiation, you'd never seen Mattheo quite this serious because seriousness just didn't run in his bloodstream. However, he's utterly ruined by your neediness, needing to take advantage of your compliance before it slipped through his fingers.

"Oh my fuck- Mattheo!"He pulls your hips towards the edge of the bed and his cock forces itself through your folds, until Mattheo is quite literally fucking you with reckless abandon.

"Matt- I can't-'' You're still riding on the sensitivity of your previous high and you think Mattheo could be a little mindful of this but his goal, it seems, is to leave you overstimulated.

"You can," he mumbles, with his eyes squeezing shut before he quickly opens them, wanting to see every emotion flowing over your face.

"You're a slut but you're not a useless slut, are you?" You tits bounce with every movement of Mattheo's hips, and you're shaking your head despite the fog. Your cunt is squeezing the life out of his cock and you feel him pushing at a very sensitive part of you.

Your head is buried in the pillows as your back arches and you swallow him deeper.

Mattheo bends forward, his hips quickening into a needy, restless rut as his teeth sink into the skin around your nipples.

"FUCK-" The pain bleeds into pleasure which streams into your next orgasm. Riddle moans around your skin, suckling at your nipple while he fucked you like he is as touch starved as you are.

"I'm cumming, Matt-" The fact that you're still able to form words is a complete and utter mystery because, not a second later, you're exploding around his cock. A gushing, clear liquid rushes through you while your lips chant his name like a prayer.

"I'm going to fucking breed you, baby- oh fuck, you're so pretty squirting around my cock-" the cracks in his voice; the desperation laced on every word has him cumming inside you, pushing his hips with every spurt of warmth.

You're still shuddering when Mattheo slumps over you. You're both huffing and puffing and basking in each other's release with his cock still very much inside you. "You're getting a contraception potion from Madame Pomfrey tomorrow," you can do nothing except nod as your satisfaction settles.

"I'll come with you," He says.

#mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle #mattheo x y/n #mattheo x you #hp fanfcition #hp fanfic #hp smut #harry potter x reader #harry potter smut #harry potter fanfic #mattheo riddle x black!reader #x reader

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wyvernest · 9 months

Text

mating szn

PART 2‼️ (part 1)

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!gf!reader

warnings: horny miguel, smut, fluff, dryhumping, unprotected p-i-v, breeding kink, scent marking, primal play, rutting miguel, possessiveness, reader is ovulating, descriptions of oral sex (f!receiving), rough sex

summary: miguel comes home feeling extremely needy

Stumbling and yelping in sync with his heavy footsteps catching up fast, you reach the first floor.

Before you get to offer yourself a fraction of a second to decide your next move, the hallway carpet curls up under your feet, slipping behind as your arms instinctively shoot forward for you to catch yourself.

Bringing one knee to your chest, you're prepared to launch yourself forward like an olympic runner.

Too bad.

Miguel's broad hands grip your waist from behind, once again sending jolts of adrenaline throughout your entire system.

You scream in delight through playful giggles, calling out his name breathlessly and maliciously arching into his hold.

You're getting wetter by the second seeing just how horny he is.

He pushes you down, forcing you on both knees. The deep pants from the chase quickly turn into something else as you feel his weight on your back, feel him get on one knee behind you.

His grip on your waist tightens. He brings his crotch up to your ass, grinding his erection up and down your clothed slit.

His hips roll slowly, rubbing the thick shaft of his hard-on lazily and mindlessly, the motions shallow and enticing.

"Ah, come on, baby", He leans forward, nuzzling his face into your soft hair, basking in the slightly-sweet, flowery scent of your shampoo. With a messy kiss to your neck, he speaks, raspy with need,

"Can't help it." More wet, sloppy kisses to your neck, more thrusts of his rock hard cock against your drenched folds through the thin material of your panties and his boxers. "I need, I need - ugh" the words fail to form as his hot breath hits the back of your neck, followed by more kisses and bites.

He brings a hand to the meat of your right thigh, grabbing harshly. He then lets it slip up over the mound of your pussy, cupping you and pushing two fingers over your folds, still stopped by your panties. You shiver at the feeling of his huge, warm palm touching your core so pervertedly, so desperately.

He can feel the wet patch on the cotton fabric, proof of reciprocated desire.

His senses once again catch the unmistakable, ever so dearly intoxicating aroma of you, so ready for him. His eyes roll back with a silent inhale, his bare chest rising and falling on your back.

He wants nothing more than to bury his face between your plush thighs and lap at your essence, pussy-drunk and keen on overstimulating you; licking and sucking at your clit, circling around your damp folds with his tongue until you're pushing him away, begging for a break, swollen and exhausted.

He can almost imagine you, tangling your fingers in his hair, pushing and pulling, either smothering him into your velvety cunt, needy and on the edge, or trying to escape his grip. He'd only hold you down, burly arms curling around your legs, just so he could make you come again, to feel you pulsate, feel your juices coat his mouth.

But with the way his cock twitches, begging for friction and stimulation, he can't think straight.

He feels an overwhelming urge to shove himself inside you and fill you with his cum, to see his cock rearranging your guts through your belly, to empty his balls in your womb and watch his seed dribble out of you, and push it back in with his still hard cock, hold it there so that it takes.

His warm, eager hands travel down to your panties, and in their loose hold as he attempts to drag them down your thighs, you once again snake away, giggling with a sardonic grin that doesn't do well in covering up the desire evident on your features.

"¡Mierda!" He grunts, and you enter the bedroom, reaching the balcony door and turning around. You catch the sight of Miguel clawing at the door frame to take the turn and come in faster.

Before you can react and take your eyes off the enormous bulge in his shorts, the defined shape of his dick protruding erotically against the material, he pounces, caging you against the wall, distancing your legs far apart with one knee.

His palms slip to your sides, not missing the savory opportunity to settle on the sides of your tits. He fondles their softness with the heels of his hands, pushing them together, pressing his whole body into yours.

You let out a barely audible moan as he corners you, almost squeezing you between his muscular frame and the wall behind you, and he almost loses all that's left of his sanity.

He kisses your temple, full of yearning. Although, he's instantly reminded that his scent has worn off of your feverish skin.

"Por favor,-" a deep groan vibrates in his chest against you, making you quiver.

"He estado cachondo todo el día," (I've been horny all day). He holds you tight against him, your tender breasts pressed flush against his pecs.

"No podía pensar en nada más que en ti" (I couldn't think of anything but you.)

You finally give in and offer a smidge of relief, sliding your hand down to grab his clothed hard cock. The second he feels you palm him tentatively, he reflexively starts rubbing himself on your hand like an animal in heat, groaning ruggedly.

"That's it." He rasps, fed up, and it's almost a threat.

He slowly walks over to the bed with you secure in his arms, but when his knees hit the frame, he doesn't drop you like he normally would. No. He's not giving you another chance to flee. A part of him loves the cat-and-mouse game he knows you enjoy so much, but the other part can already feel his fat, full balls turning blue.

Placing you down, hands still gripping your waist viciously, he gets on the bed, the mattress sinking down under his weight.

You feel your clit throb as he traps you with his thighs, taking your shirt off. His touch leaves goosebumps over your silky skin.

Under your hazy gaze fixed on his movements, he hovers above you, skipping the usual looks of adoration. Not that the sentiments were gone by any means, but he was far too needy to wait any longer.

The kiss he suffocates you with is fiery, full of all the pent up tension he had to endure.

As his mouth moves against yours eagerly and messily, you notice how it lacks his characteristic expert, methodical approach.

His lips were just as soft as ever, but devoured your every moan and breath with a fervor unfamiliar. His tongue slips past the liplock, dominating you in no time, and right when you start to adjust to the new strategy, catching up with his movements, he parts from you, breaking the kiss and sucking your soul out of you with it.

He continues his attack down your throat, biting and licking hurriedly, marking you as his.

Groaning freely, he reaches your breasts, taking them in his mouth, one after the other. His hands squeeze, roam and play with them, making you bite down on your lower lip and whine beneath him.

He suckles on the perked nipples, releasing them to catch his breath with another gravel moan. When he's done, your chest is coated in his spit; fresh, hickies already blooming over your tender tits.

The weight of his cock settles on your thigh, pressed snugly and oozing precum through a dark spot on his boxers.

Your own hands attach to his silky dark hair, caressing and brushing wild strands away from his forehead, clinging and pulling occasionally when he latches onto your breasts again after taking a few deep breaths.

Sliding lower, impatiently licking and biting over the line of your stomach, he finally gets to your panties.

He kisses the soft lips of your pussy through the fabric, the scent of your arousal driving him mad. He groans again, words slurred through the desperate, obscene licks, "Eres.." He extends his tongue, lapping up at the dampness, "..tan bonita." (You're so pretty)

Your heels are digging into his shoulder blades as you squirm and moan under his sultry touch. Through half lidded eyes, you see him bare his pearl white fangs, as if prepared to sink them into your sensitive skin.

You gasp, a little above a moan.

"Miguel! Don't - ah" You whimper as he grits his teeth around the elastic of your panties, tearing them in two with the help of one hand.

He grabs your thighs, kneeling between your legs.

Shoving his hand in his shorts, he takes his dick out, its mushroom head glistening mauve. He begins to stroke it more violently than you thought he would've taken pleasure in.

Mouth agape, pupils blown wide, he looks downright primal. Solely focused on claiming you, on stuffing you full of his potent seed, of draining his fat balls in your warm cunt until you're begging him to stop through ablaze overstimulation.

Cock in hand, incontestably massive encompassed by his proportionally large fingers, he slaps the hard, angered, heavy shaft on your tender folds, groaning at the wet sound of flesh against flesh. He rubs it over your lips, drenching it in your juices.

You notice his thighs flex, already insanely sensitive. When he eases the head in, he moans, rough and low in his throat, brows creased in pained pleasure. You whimper his name, legs quivering faintly on each side of his waist.

Using his weight to press your body down into the mattress, forcing you onto him, he slides his arms underneath your knees, throwing them over his shoulders and bending you in half.

A shiver bursts through you at the sensation. You clench around him, forcing a strangled groan out of his throat.

He braces himself down on his forearms, face nestled in the crook of your neck. Pushing in, the bulbous tip of his cock kisses your cervix as he bottoms out and gets straight to a tireless pace, not giving you the ritualistic second to adjust.

The bed creaks and squeaks with the way he's throwing himself into your cunt, pounding you into the soft cushions relentlessly.

His hips gyrate roughly against yours, his tense abdomen waving into you, dipping his meaty cock in your juices with an obscene, wet squelching, finishing each delicious swing with a quicker entry, more forceful and animalistic. His pubes brush harshly against your engorged, swollen clit, sending jolts of electricity through your core.

Skipping the tension, the build-up of speed, he drives straight to the euphoric rhythm of a release chase. His balls slap onto your ass, his pelvic bone nearly delivering bruising slams against your own.

“Ugh, oh Miguel-,” you gasp for more air, struggling to form a coherent sentence through delirium, your breaths and moans rhythmically timed by his rough thrusts.

You curl your arms around his neck, nails digging into his back and shoulders. He looks down at you, watching your breasts bounce in his face, and starts rutting harder into you, every ridge and vein of his fat cock brushing against your sensitive spots perfectly.

Each time you call for him, it's a melody, a rapturous chant that has him on his knees, his mind in cobwebs, his heart aching; and for the time being, his cock throbbing as well.

"I'm - ah! Cumming!Ugh, M- Mig- uel- !" You moan sharply, your orgasm rapidly threatening to burst like fireworks.

He frowns, panting, shallow breaths hot over your face. You convulse under his massive body, arching your back, squeezing your tits flush against his feverish skin.

He feels your pussy flutter around his cock, milking him and sucking him in. He groans loudly in your ear, pace faltering ever so slightly. The headboard of the bed keeps slamming against the room wall, spurring your orgasm on with the reminder of the force of the man above you.

With one final thrust, his whole body tenses. He pushes forward, burying his cock in your soft, warm cunt, dumping his load in much slower and shallow rolls of his hips. You feel his dick pulsate inside you with each new spurt of cum, the remnants of your own climax making you clench around him reflexively.

He stills, relief washing over him. Meeting your gaze, he watches how you come back to your senses, the blinding lust replaced by love and admiration.

He grabs your waist and pulls you down with him, laying you on his chest, his softening cock still inside you.

You close your eyes, head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

Dinner long forgotten.

divider by @cafekitsune

a/n: did my best here. the tags deadass took longer than the writing