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revasserium · 7 months

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Pining Zoro and blind-to-it Reader?

un-certainly

opla!zoro; 3,422 words; fluff fluff fluff so much fluff, straw hat!reader, fem!reader, (seeminlgy) clueless!reader, lots of pining, banter, teasing, smitten!zoro, the whole nine yards

summary: in which everyone knows zoro's got it bad for you, except for you, of course.

one.

“so… i should just… talk to her.” zoro says uncomprehendingly, blinking at an exasperated nami, who has to take a long, steadying breath to keep from shoving him overboard. the waves beneath them are calm, the day above them, a gorgeous, endless stretch of blue so brilliant it almost pains the eyes to stare.

nami resists the urge to pinch her nose bridge as a dull ringing starts to echo in her ears.

“yes. sweet god — just go up to her and say ‘hey, i think i might like you’ and i guarantee you, things will go from there.”

zoro shifts his tightly knitted arms, squinting at her as if she might be lying or purposefully luring him into a trap, “go? so there’s a chance it could go badly.”

this time, nami really does drop her face into her hands, groaning loudly.

“well there’s always a chance it could go badly —”

“sounds like a bad idea to me.” zoro looks away, eyes still narrowed as the light sea breeze ruffles his hair, a colony of news coo squawking loudly overhead, one of them dropping down to careen towards the going merry, landing on the thick white railings next to them, ruffling it’s feathers as nami pushes off to dig in her pocket for some berry.

“oh! newspapers here!” your voice makes both zoro and nami jump, and a second later you’re bounding up the stairs to the forecastle deck and stuffing some berry into the news coo’s bag. your arm brushes by zoro’s as you lean over to offer the news coo a piece of dried shrimp, which it considers for a second before leaning forward and gobbling up.

nami gives zoro a soft shove from his other side, leveling him with a meaningful look before turning and making a show of going to check on her tangerine grove.

zoro doesn’t have time to glare before the news coo takes off with a pat-pat-pat of wings, leaving you and him very much alone on the sunny fore-deck. he purses his lips, casting about for something to say even as you hum happily to yourself, your arm still painfully close to his as you unroll the newspaper and flip though, blissfully unaware of the inner turmoil of the man standing next to you.

“uh — anything interesting?” zoro asks, desperate for something, anything to fill the silence.

you shrug, “nope… just the usual — uptick in piracy along the coast, tightening of marine patrols…” you turn and cast him a grin that makes his stomach twist inside him like a contortionist from buggy’s freakshow.

zoro clears his throat, thumbing absently at the hilt of his swords before taking a deep breath.

“hey — uh…”

“hm?” you turn towards him, with your wide attentive eyes and your stomach-curling smile.

zoro blinks, his gaze flickering from your soft button nose to the way the wind twines its fingers in the loose strands of your hair. two twin pearls glitter from the lobes of your ears and he feels the tension melt from him as he sucks in another breath.

just say it, nami had said, just tell her.

really, how hard could it be?

“i uh — there’s something i wanna talk —”

“wait, hold still,” you say, your eyes going wide as you lean forward suddenly and zoro’s visions tunnels in around him — you’re close, closer, too close/too close/too close!

your fingers card through his hair and he has to bite back the shiver that rockets down his spine as you pull your hand back with a black-tipped feather.

“the news coo left you a present,” you say, laughing as you offer him the feather.

zoro considers it for a second before taking it from you.

“it could’ve left worse,” he says, recalling the few times that he’d gotten bird shit in his hair.

you giggle; the sound makes him want to scream but instead, he settles for clearing his throat again.

“now, you make a wish,” you say, nodding towards the feather in his hand.

“never heard of that before,” he frowns slightly, “thought you could only wish on dandelion seeds and…” he waves at the endless stretch of sky above you, “shooting stars and stuff.”

your smile is so wide that zoro thinks his cheeks might start to hurt for you.

“haven’t you heard that rules are meant to be broken?” you ask, offering him the feather again. he looks at you, then at the feather, and the back at you.

“okay — i wish —”

you squawk flapping your hand, “no! you can’t tell me what the wish is! otherwise, it won’t come true!”

zoro smirks, cocking an eyebrow, “i thought rules were meant to be broken?”

you blush the most darling shade of red and he decides to take it easy on you (and, honestly, himself). so, he plucks the feather from your hand and closes his eyes, making a soft, silent wish. a wish that, in truth, he’d been making since the moment he met you.

when he opens his eyes, it’s to find you staring.

“kay. now what?” he asks, rolling the feather between his thumb and forefinger.

“now…” you gently tug the feather from him before opening your palm and letting the wind whisk it away, “you let the sea take your wish. and if you’re worthy, it’ll grant the wish for you!”

zoro lets out a breathy laugh, “if i’m worthy? and how’s it supposed to know that?”

you lean in, and if it were anyone else, he might’ve been annoyed, but with you, somehow, he finds himself charmed.

your voice is conspiratorial as you whisper, “because… the ocean knows all the secrets the sky can’t keep.”

two.

at dinner, with you by his side, usopp detailing some imaginary adventure, nami laughing, sanji blowing smoke rings towards the middle of the fire-lit deck. your cheeks are pink from the wine everyone is passing around and for a second, you bump into him and turn — he turns towards you too —

your eyes catch like unsuspecting fish to a bobbing hook and zoro feels his stomach tug as you grin up at him, the night sky caught in the flutter of your lashes.

he can’t help the way his gaze flicks down to your lips, and then back up again.

“feel like sharing?” you ask, nodding towards his half-finished bottle.

wordlessly, he hands the bottle to you and watches as you bring the mouth to your lips and take a long drink. he tracks the soft bobbing of your moon-lit throat and feels his own mouth go dry at the sight.

across the fire, sanji watches with a growing smile and nami rolls her eyes.

“oi, moss-head — mind if i take a swig too?” sanji asks as you hand back the bottle, dragging the back of your hand across your lips, and zoro turns to pin sanji with a glare.

“get your own,” he says, before polishing off the rest with a few hard sips and tossing the bottle into a rapidly growing pile.

zoro licks his lips and tries not to think about the way your lips had fit around the bottle just right; he tries not to wonder if you’d taste like wine. or, if he’d even have the mind to think that far if you were to let him kiss you.

three.

“… and then, you pull it through… like this?” you slowly bring your arm through a swiping movement, your hands clutched around the hilt of a wooden training sword. zoro sighs, shaking his head.

“uh — not quite — here,” he pushes off from the barrel he’s sitting on to circle around behind you, wrapping one hand around both of yours, the other palm curling around your middle to press against your stomach, “you’re breaking in your waist again — keep your core tight and —” he helps you swing the sword through in a swift arc.

“oh.”

it takes him a second to realize how close you are, how he can feel your entire back pressed against his entire front, how perfectly you fit into his arms, how easy it’d be to hold you to him and never let go.

“so just… practice that a few hundred times,” he says, stumbling back as his cheeks go hot and he feels the inexplicable urge to toss himself into the calm, saltine waves below, if only to cool down just a bit.

“will you practice with me?” you ask, your smile wider than the sky is wide — zoro is sure.

he blinks at you for a second before making a show of sighing and rolling his eyes.

“ah… i guess i could use a bit of practice too.”

he pulls out the wadou ichimonji and takes his stance next to you.

“ready?” he asks.

you nod, glancing over and adjusting your posture.

“okay, how many are we doing?”

zoro casts around for a number, “a thousand.”

“zoro!”

“five… hundred?”

you cast him a look that makes his stomach flip inside him.

“how about we start with a hundred, and then i’ll see how i feel from there?”

zoro clicks his tongue, smirking, “i could do a hundred in my sleep.”

you make a show of rolling your eyes, “fine then — go take a nap!”

zoro huffs as he clears his throat, “right then — let’s start — one, two —”

you squeak as you hurry to catch up, jumping as he reaches out a hand to correct your posture.

up on the foredeck, luffy watches with usopp by his side.

“hey! i wonder if zoro would teach me sword tricks if i asked!”

usopp sighs, clapping luffy on the back even as he shakes his head.

“uh — not that i think he wouldn’t but … maybe you should just… let them do their thing, yeah?”

four.

“i think you really should tell her,” luffy says, slapping zoro on the shoulder, a bit harder than he’d intended. zoro winces, pressing a palm to his chest — still sore from their recent raid.

“i don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

luffy laughs, leaning forward against the railing, “nami said you’d say that.”

zoro fights the urge to scowl as he sighs, his eyes narrowed at the damnably calm horizon. at least if the weather weren’t so nice, he could make up an excuse to leave but —

“really, what’s the worse that could happen?” luffy asks.

zoro grunts, shooting luffy a sidelong look, “oh i don’t know, she doesn’t feel the same and shit gets awkward and —” he waves a hand at the going merry, “the crew falls apart.”

thankfully, luffy doesn’t pause to call him out on for once not denying it.

instead, he lets out a contemplative hum, “hm… yeah, that could happen. but… i don’t think it will.”

inside his chest, zoro’s heart clunks, strange and uncoordinated.

“why? she say something to you?” he can’t keep the curiosity from his voice, the stomach-squeezing anticipation he’d only ever associated with the heat of battle and a really good fight. but now, he feels it whenever you get too close, and he wonders if he can go insane like this — if one day his heart might just give out.

“nope!” luffy’s voice is too bright, too cheerful, and zoro feels himself rolling his eyes before he can stop himself, “i’ve just got a feeling!”

“a feeling.”

“yeah! and — have a little faith! the straw hat crew isn’t that fragile.”

with that, and another hearty clap to the shoulder that leaves zoro hissing in pain, luffy clomps off towards the kitchens, where sanji is already doing dinner prep. zoro lets out another sigh as he straightens, carefully stretching his arms to test the range of motion.

above him, a flock of migratory geese fly southward in a soft, arrowhead formation. zoro holds up a hand to shield his eyes from the sun as he watches them pass overhead.

a single feather flutters down towards him and he finds himself reaching out to catch in the palm of his hand.

a wish, huh, he thinks, twirling the feather between two fingers before casting around to make sure no one else can see him. satisfied that everyone else is either too far away or below decks, zoro closes his eyes and makes a wish —

alright roronoa, please. don’t fuck this up.

five.

“ahem.” zoro clears his throat after dinner, making a point to down a couple more drinks than usual. he’s never been one to believe in liquid courage, but… it couldn’t hurt, right?

“can we, uh, talk?”

you smile a smile that threatens to crack his chest wide open, nodding.

“sure! what’s up?”

across the room, sanji visibly stills but nami catches his eye and shakes her head ever so slightly.

“c’mon… not in here,” zoro says, jerking his head towards the hallway that leads to the decks above.

“what’s got you so secretive all of a sudden?” you ask as he leads you all the way up to the crows nest, reaching down to help tug you up, letting his hand linger in yours as you grin up at him.

“i’m allowed to have secrets,” he says, turning to stare out at the darkened sea, the summer moon hanging low and full-bellied over the glittering waters, the stars winking like so many all-seeing eyes.

“we all are, but… i thought we’d gotten all your big ones after that one night the whiskey bar —”

zoro coughs, “alright, alright — don’t need to bring that up again.”

you laugh, leaning forward to pillow your cheek against your crossed arms, propped up along the edge of the crows nest.

“so? what’s this new secret, then?”

zoro swallows, “uh — wouldn’t exactly call it new.”

“alright then, an old secret.”

“not super old, either —”

you turn to look at him, half-exasperated, half-amused, but when you catch sight of his expression, you still, pressing your lips.

“zoro? is… everything okay?”

he ticks his tongue against his teeth and lets out a long breath, as if bracing himself for something before he says —

“yeah. i think —” he clears his throat again, trying to recall what nami had said about just saying it and he tries again.

“i think i might like you.”

the coil in his chest feels tight enough to snap, but you’re quiet as he turns to steal a glance at you.

“oh,” you say, you expression curiously contemplative as you look out over the darkened seascape.

zoro has to physically stop himself from shaking you by the shoulders — say something, goddamnit! say anything!

“so…” he says, knitting his arms across his chest instead.

you turn towards him, your eyes bright as twin stars.

“you think you might like me, right?” you ask, and for a second, zoro can only blink down at you, completely thrown by your lack of reaction. of all the things he’d imagined you doing — everything from getting angry to apologizing to throwing yourself at him with an impassioned speech about how you’d felt the same since the beginning — this was not one of them.

“uh… yeah, pretty sure that’s what i said.”

you cock your head, a quick, bird-like gesture that makes zoro’s heart skitter inside his chest, threatening to leap from his mouth as you continue to stare up at him, completely unabashed.

“ah… so what do you think we should do then?”

zoro stares, “… do?”

“yeah, because if you’re not sure if you like me… we should do something to make sure, right?”

and it’s then that he sees the soft, playful uptick of your lips, the glittering darkness behind your eyes. the tension in his chest seems to loosen even as he lets out a breath, chuckling before quirking an eyebrow and taking a step towards you, caging you in against the crows nest’s edge.

“mm. you’re right — i can think of a few things we could try, though.”

“yeah?” you voice is little more than an exhale on the wind, but it’s the last thing zoro tastes before he finds his lips on yours.

as far as kisses go, zoro would later think back, it was a pretty damn good one.

it started as a slow kind of kiss, a soft, unfurling of breath on breath, and then lips on lips. the ghost-friction of promises made and kept and unbroken, the first spark to a fire that had been threatening to consume him since the moment he’d heard you laugh.

and then — just like that, he’s kissing you. and you’re kissing him back, the gravity and inevitability of it making his head spin even as he presses in closer. it is sweet and warm and trembling — soft and hard and deepening. he runs his tongue along the seam of your mouth and savors the way you gasp open for him.

just him.

he swallows it like he wants to swallow you, reaching up to sink his fingers into the silk and gossamer of your hair, pulling you so close he can feel your heartbeat thrumming against his chest, your nails as they curl into the linen of his shirt.

it takes everything inside him to pull back, and everything else left not to dive right back in again. you’re both panting, a little breathless, and zoro — a lot relieved.

“so…” you say, your tongue flickering out to lave across your bottom lip.

zoro doesn’t try to stop his eyes as he tracks the spine-tingling motion.

“so?”

you grin, biting back the shiver that chases through you at the deep, base rumble of his voice, echoing from his body to yours.

“what’s the verdict? have you decided if you like me yet?” you ask, batting your lashes even as he watches your own eyes drop down to his lips. a dark, warm, purring satisfaction curls inside his chest at the way your pupils dilate, black as the night, bright as all her favorite stars.

“hm,” zoro hums, leaning down to skim a knuckle along your jaw, slowly guiding your face towards his again, “dunno… jury’s still out… might have to try it a few more times. y’know… just to be sure.”

“mm…” you sigh as he leans down to graze his teeth along your pulse point, fingers tightening around your waist as he feels you tremble in his arms, “y-yeah… wouldn’t want you to be —” you hiccup as he sinks a soft bite into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, “uncertain.”

“no…” and his voice is all groan and gravel as he lets himself breathe you in, “we certainly wouldn’t want that.”

bonus.

far below, beneath the decks of the going merry, sanji takes a long pull from a post-dinner cigarette, his lips twisting into a concerned sort of frown.

“it’s been a while since they’ve been up there. think we should go check on them?”

luffy shugs, still happily picking at the remains of the turkey carcass sitting in the middle of an oblong plate.

“they should be okay — i mean, they say that no news is good news, right?”

“uh, not sure that applies to this kinda thing,” usopp says as he makes to peak out of the nearest window.

nami swirls her drink, “i think they’re fine. and we’d hear if zoro threw himself off the crows nest, right?”

across the table, sanji blinks and luffy pauses in his munching.

“whoa, you think he’d really do that if she rejects him?” usopp asks, his face going a little pale.

nami rolls here eyes, “no.” and then a moment later, “but really, we’d hear him if he jumped, right?”

luffy licks his lips, shrugging, “dunno, probably though. he’s pretty heavy so he’ll make a pretty big splash.”

sanji taps a bit of ash into his empty bowl and lets out a long suffering breath.

“yeah, y’know really, no news is good news.”

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schwarzkatje · 3 months

Text

(this is part 1. go here > part 2 < for the continuation)

ellie hates you. ellie hates everything about you. how you dress with your stupid frilly little clothes found god knows where in this apocalyptic wasteland. how much joy you bring to the community with just one smile of yours. how you try so hard to revive a life you never got the chance to live, a life so distant it sounds like bullshit when you one day came up with the idea of gathering together and ask the elders to share memories of their habits before everything went to shit.

ellie hates you but she happens to hate herself as well. how she wants to read your laugh as fake but she fails, filled with a warmth she would willingly discard. how you seem to be the only topic on her mind and on her lips, even though no positive things are uttered in your favour. how her own senses betray her and work with the sole intent of reminding her of your natural scent that lingers like a torture in her nostrils as soon as you are a metre away from her. how much she loves to snap at you, especially when it is totally uncalled for. how much excitement rushes in her veins at the thought of breaking you, see you reveal your true colours and scream at her.

ellie hates the sweetness of your juices, wetting your pussy as she is torn between torturing you, spread on this damn countertop, by flicking her insatiable tongue directly on your clit, or fucking you open on her wet muscle until you beg through hot tears to never stop, that you swear to do everything, anything if that means to have ellie eat you out.

ellie hates how she longs to have your hands pulling her hair hard when the sucking on your little bud is just too good.

ellie hates the way her own name leaves your mouth. It's a scream, a humid sob, a desperate pleading altogether and if she can sense you going on cloud nine, she can rightfully admit her head being lighter and her brain shutting a few doors.

ellie hates you when you anchor her wrist and bring her fingers inside your mouth, covering them in saliva and tears, bobbing your head as if to convey a subliminal message.

ellie hates how fast she complies and pistons two fingers inside you without questioning or some sort of teasing.

ellie hates how your hips leave the counter just enough for you to meet the thrusts of her fingers halfway, because it takes too long for them to cave themselves into you once they go all the way out.

ellie hates how your pussy desires to keep her inside, risking to have you pass out because of the intensity too mean to bear, but seem to need more to release the knot in your stomach.

ellie hates how you clenching and filling her mouth all the while chanting her name out loud fills her ego and sends shivers where they aren't supposed to go with the thought of having people hear your obscenities and the way she managed to make you feel.

but most importantly, ellie loathes how she just can't face you and like the vilest of the cowards she runs, leaving you there, used, still panting, still finding a way to catch your breath and now with the additional confusion of piecing together your incoherence to make a something out of it.

#ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie x reader smut #ellie x y/n #ellie williams smut #ellie x you #ellie smut #the last of us smut #ellie tlou #ellie williams x you #ellie the last of us

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lizthewriter · 3 months

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get him back! / theodore nott

PAIRING theodore nott x fem!reader

SUMMARY after playboy mattheo riddle dumps you for another girl, your best friend motivates you to get the best revenge - be the girl he would always want, but could never have. you take things to the extreme when theodore nott offers you a deal you can't say no to.

TAGS theodore nott x fem!reader, past!mattheo riddle x fem!reader, modern!au, university!au, ginny is your best friend, fake dating, college parties, gluna / linny, part 2?

QUOTE "yeah i pour my little heart out, / but as i'm hitting send, / i picture all the faces of my dissappointed friends, / because everyone knew all of the shit that he'd do, / he said i was the only girl but that just wasn't the truth," - get him back! by olivia rodrigo

WORD COUNT 2.2K

WRITTEN 12.15.2023

hey, mattheo, how are you? i know it's been a while but i thought i'd -

No. What the hell are you doing? You hold the backspace, watching as the words you had just typed out disappeared. This was ridiculous - you couldn't keep doing this. Ginny would be so dissappointed in you. He had cheated on you, multiple times. He had spent all his time flirting with other girls. He lied to you and then his apologies were just fancy, elaborate gifts soaked in wealth and champagne. How could you still want him, need him, so viscerally?

"What are you doing?" You threw your phone over to your bed and turned around to face Ginny with a sickeningly-sweet grin.

"What? Nothing," you responded innocently. She narrowed her eyes at you in suspicion and made her way over to your bed, picking up your phone and glancing at the screen. You had forgotten to turn it off. Shit.

"Oh come on, seriously? Riddle? That douchebag?" She asked incredulously, sending you one of her famous looks of dissappointment. You got up and snatched your phone from her hand, only to crash on your bed.

"I know, I know," you responded with whine. "And I hate him too . . . but I miss him." You snatched one of your pillows and planted your face into it. The muffled scream was still louder than it ought to be, making Ginny cringe, but still rather satisfying. You let out a huff of breath. "I don't know what to do. I want to punch him in the face but at the same time . . . I want to kiss his stupid fucking face. That piece of shit."

You stared at his picture and let out a sigh. He was so damn complicated.

Ginny snatched your phone from you yet again. "All right, here's what we're going to do. We're going to come up with a plan to make Mattheo Riddle the most jealous man on the planet and in the process, find you someone new and much better. All right?"

You groaned. The thought of it sounded exhausted, but even you had to admit that there was a certain appeal to showing up at some party he was at, dressed to the nines, and bringing home another guy all while he watched. You sat up and stared at Ginny, before hesitantly saying, ". . . Go on."

"I know darling it's upsetting, darling, but . . . you're just not my kind of girl."

The words rang out in your head as you stood before a large mansion belonging to one of the many wealthy students at your campus. Cars were parked around the enormous driveway and the music from inside was booming so loudly that your could feel your bones vibrate with the beat.

Ginny slipped her arm through yours and flashed you one of her adventurous smiles. "Cheer up - you're going to be the prettiest girl they ever did see," Ginny said mockingly, pinching your cheeks. You barked out a laugh, playfully shoving her arm away.

"You sound like some posh grandma."

"But I'm your posh grandma," Ginny responded with a pout as you two began to climb the stone steps to the completely open front door. (I mean, seriously, who leaves the door to their house open? It's like they're asking to be robbed.)

The music steadily became louder upon approach, making it almost impossible to hear your own voice as you entered. The sleek wooden floors were bathed in a variety of disco lights, an odd contrast in comparison to the lovely home that looked like it belonged to some stuffy old Oxford professor.

"Hello ladies," said a jubilant man leaning against the doorframe leading to the foyer. He looked Ginny up and down before pushing himself off the wall and approaching Ginny. "Lovely to see you again." He sent a wink Ginny's way, which she responded to with a playful roll of her eyes. You finally recognized him - he was a sports major, friends with some of her older brothers. Lee, you remembered his name was. He was a flirt - he had tried with you once, when you were with Mattheo. It didn't end so well for him.

"I'm glad to see your nose is doing better, Jordan," you spoked with a friendly smile.

He pinched it and then looked down at his hand. "Good as new, I suppose, but there's still a scar on my heart," he claimed dramatically, walking wistfully away with the expression of a lovelorn, heartbroken lead in a Victorian drama. You and Ginny giggled and delved further into the lion's den. Numerous people greeted you, but especially Ginny (she had always been the popular one). A paticular boy, Harry, had his eye on her for quite some time. You wouldn't be one to say he was unattractive - he was fairly pretty. He was a Criminal Justice major and a pretty nice guy from your understanding. But you knew Ginny wasn't interested.

When Ginny stopped walking, you did too, as your arms were intertwined. You followed her line of sight and smirked at what - well, who - she was staring at. A wistfully odd girl with pale blonde hair down to her waist and an odd sort of dress adorning her body. People gave her odd looks, whispering to their friends. Why is she here? No one likes her.

You nudged Ginny multiple times to grab her attention once more. "Hey, you can go on without me. I'll be fine."

"What? No! I'm not abandoning you, you're my best friend and -"

"Go," you insisted. "I promise, I'll be fine."

She looked rather torn, glancing between the two of you before stomping her feet and letting out a groan. "I hate you," she whined.

"I hate you too," you responded with a grin. You turned her around, your hands on her shoulders, and pushed in her in the general direction of one eccentric Luna Lovegood. "Now go! Don't worry about me, we've been planning this for days!"

"Good luck!" She shouted at you before she disappeared into the sea of people. A few moments later, after much difficultly trying to see her, you saw her chatting up the girl. All right, my turn, you thought.

You scoured the room - you wouldn't say you were the most introverted person in the world, but you definitely weren't the most outgoing either. You needed to find someone who would really pull at Mattheo's nerves, make those prominent veins pop out of his head. You wanted him to feel the anger and the pain that you felt. You wanted to get him back!

There was no one on the bottom floor that caught your eye, so you climbed the stairs to where the more . . . elegant students were. (Rich, more like.)

They weren't anymore sophisticated than the people downstairs, but there was still that air of refinement that made you feel slightly out of place. You wandered around the many rooms for a bit before you found a kitchen (they had one upstairs and downstairs?) Grabbing a drink, you wandered around some more, making friendly conversations with some of your peers. As you were talking with Neville, a very kind boy from one of your general education courses, someone in paticular caught your eye and everything clicked.

Theodore Nott. He was the son to a rather rich Italian man, the CEO of one of the most well-known designer shoe brands in Europe. His mother died rather unfortunately of illness at a young age. He's been very prominent, especially in recent years. He's been a model for his father's company, he was in the top 5% of your class, and he's - well - he's known as the most handsome boy in your year.

You definitely weren't going to deny that - he was drop-dead gorgeous. His eyes were so . . . alluring. Dark and sexy, a pool of emotions shrouded by mystery. Okay, so maybe you were going far too overboard with your description of him, but for the love of God, was he attractive.

Somehow, he could feel your gaze upon him. He had been sitting on a couch, telling a story to a tight-knit group of friends, Mattheo included you noticed, that you had taken your eyes off of him. You felt embarrassed, pretended to look around the room, and then turned your attention back towards Neville with an encouraging smile that pretended that you had been listening to him rant all along.

"Excuse me," you heard Nott say, standing up from the couch. The champagne flute in his hand was rather empty so you deduced that he was probably going to go fill it. An educated guess, but an incorrect one. He did something you never expected. He approached you.

"Longbottom, I hear Greengrass has a question about a Geo-sci class you two share. She seemed rather distressed by it. I'm sure she'd appreciate your help," Theo told Neville - you glanced at Daphne Greengrass. She looked nowhere near distressed, but Neville perked up in excitement.

"R-really?" He asked nervously, wringing his hands. He gave you a sheepish smile. "Talk to you later, I've got to go help Daphne."

"Yeah, see you later Nev," you replied. Nott looked down at you for a moment before raising his glass.

"It seems we're both in need of a refill. Care to join me?" His expression was nothing more than emotionless, except perhaps the tiniest smirk that remained upon those rose-dusted lips. You shrugged nonchalantly, only just noticing the vacancy in your glass.

"Sure, why not?"

You followed a quite Theodore Nott to the kitchen again, where he poured himself champagne from a very specialized fridge unit filled with distinguished bottles of liquor - merlot and pinot noir and all those fancy alcohols you would have assumed people like him drank. He silently offered you some by tipping the bottle towards you. You offered him your glass, which he poured a fair amount in, not too much, not too little. Just right.

"I'm suprised to see you here."

You arched a brow in response as he took a light sip from the flute resting in a delicate balance between his two fingers. Precariously, a smile dained your face. "And why is that?"

"Your Riddle's ex-girl, aren't you?"

He asked in such a way that seemed as though he didn't care much at all.

The smile from your face disappeared, replaced by something much more bitter. You shrugged, but the action was much more passive-agressive than you had intended it to be. "So what? Does that mean something to you?"

He placed the flute down, the glass clinking against the marble countertop. "Riddle and I have a . . . complicated relationship."

"You mean, your dear old daddies are both relevant, rival shoe designers?" You said it so innocently. Nott smirked at you.

"Yeah, something like that. Listen," he leaned in close to you, leaning his arms against the counter in an attempt to lower himself to your level. He was rather lanky and tall, which you supposed was good for a model, but hard for when you want to actually talk to him. "You and I both want something from him."

"And what's that, Nott?" You asked with mock curiosity, placing your chin in the palm of your hands with a tilt of your head.

"Well, let's just say you didn't come here tonight, dressed like that, in the hopes that he would fuck you," he responded, quite bluntly. Well, you supposed that sort of honesty was an inherited trait. "Everyone knows what went down between you two - he aired out your dirty laundry for all to see. No, you came back here to get revenge."

"Astute," you said with a tone of disdain. Taking a sip of your champagne, you found that it actually had a much more delightful taste than any other alcohol you had. You smacked down the glass on the countertop. "Really, Nott, thanks for that." You began to leave but Theo grabbed you by the arm.

"Wait! Just . . . listen," he said, panting slightly. His brows were scrunchdd together in frustration - he seemed genuinely distressed. The only reason you stayed was because you realized something rather odd.

You turned towards him with furrowed brows. "Is Theodore Nott . . . desperate for something?" You asked with a disbelieving scoff. At the sight of his jaw clenching, his eyes avoiding yours, you let out a shocked laugh.

"Shut it," he muttered, sending you a dark glare.

"Now that's certainly out of character," you said, slugging off his iron grip. "All right, you've got my attention. What is it?"

"My father's been trying to score one over Riddle for years. Rumor is Mattheo's father wants him to marry a good woman, someone that won't tarnish his son's so-called good reputation. And well, you . . . slipped through his fingers like sand. Stealing him from you would make my father more . . . proud."

You crinkled up your nose. "You're not proposing to me, are you? Cause the answer is no."

"No, no. I'm just asking you to date me, at least for a bit."

The sound of it seemed ridiculous, but then you thought - you were both getting something out of it. It was nothing more than a partnership, and a good one at that. Either way, you'd be pulling one over Mattheo and that would be good enough for you.

"How much is 'for a bit'?"

"Everyone." Theo had walked back into the room, you snuggled comfortably into his arms. He had tapped a fork against his glass, gathering the attention of his friends. Mattheo's jaw dropped, the hand swung around some girl you had seen around slithering it's way back to his side. "I want to introduce you to my girlfriend."

That's right, you smug snake. I win.

part two coming soon . . . <3

#theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theo nott x you #theo nott x reader #my writing #fanfiction #— [ glizzy posts ☆ ]#my fanfiction #my fic #writing #fanfic #harry potter #slytherin boys

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dreamescapeswriting · 4 months

Text

My Little Muse ~ HHJ [M]

WORD COUNT: 4.9K (you broke my 2k streak hehe thank you)

GENRE: mafia!AU, continution of THIS piece, hyunjin simping for reader,building of relationship, fast paced, insta love, SMUT MINORS DNI (You WILL be blocked) cunnilingus (female recieving) protected sex

PAIRING: Hyunjin x Fem!Reader

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - January 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

"Do you even know who that was?" The lady behind the counter of your pain shop questioned, her eyes scanning over your body as she looked at your appearance trying to see what it was that Hyunjin liked about you so much. You weren't even that special - to her at least. It was obvious by her tone of voice that she was annoyed by you because of a random man asking you out on a date, but it wasn't as though you asked him to pay you any attention.

"N-No." You stuttered a little, your eyes never straying from the man as he straightened out the black suit he was wearing and climbed into the back of a black SUV. Part of you was intrigued by him, he seemed so charming and confident when he'd told you to go on a date with him.

"That's Hwang Hyunjin." She stated as if it was meant to mean something to you, but you were new to the City and you had no idea who anybody was. You weren't much of a gossip so you didn't read town magazines, you mostly kept to yourself spending time at work or painting at home.

"Is he a celebrity?" You frowned, turning to look at the lady who was biting back a smirk. You could tell she wanted to say but she didn't, she just smiled and shrugged her shoulders at you.

"Good luck, he's relentless when he sees something he wants." Before you could ask what she meant she was going toward the back of the store while you looked around nervously wondering if everyone working inside of the store knew of the man.

It had been weeks of non-stop gifts coming to your apartment and your workplace and it was safe to say it was getting a little out of hand. It had started small at first, the occasional box of chocolates - which you never ate in case they'd been tampered with - then there were some notes that were left at your desk - all cute and sweet notes from HHJ but then when he realised you weren't responding the gifts got bigger.

One morning you'd walked into work to find a huge bouquet of your favourite flowers on your desk with a note attached, "I asked your boss what kind you liked, go out with me tonight? HHJ" Rumours were spreading quickly around the office that you were dating him which wasn't true. He'd given you his number a few weeks ago - along with one of the notes - and you'd saved it into your phone but never called him. You weren't sure you were comfortable going out with someone as the likes of him.

You weren't stupid, the moment you'd left the paint shop and headed home - empty-handed by the way, you weren't going to take such expensive gifts from a stranger - you'd researched him and found out everything there was to know about Hyunjin.

A ruthless leader, the tabloids painted him as a "kind-hearted" man who helped a lot of businesses grow and kept them protected from others who threatened to cause harm to the business or who stole. But if you dove deep enough there were articles that painted a not-so-pretty picture of him, a killer who took what he wanted whenever he wanted it and you didn't know which side to see.

Everyone you'd asked at work about Hyunjin had said nothing but kind things, everyone seemed to like him but you were never sure because of his title. "Mafia leader" didn't really scream "green flag" mostly, red flags all over with a hint of green if you squinted really hard enough.

"Yn, you've worked enough tonight. Head home," Your boss grumbled as he looked at you and over at the clock on the wall. It was almost nine pm and you'd already been there since 7 am, it was safe to say you were overworking yourself but you didn't care. You'd been hoping to wait out the black SUV you could see from your office window but it was still there and had been since 5 pm.

"But-"

"He's still going to wait there no matter how long you hold out," Brady told you, shaking his head.

"Give him what he wants. If he gets his date maybe he'll leave you alone." You sighed a little as you packed up your laptop and slid it into your bag, maybe Brady was right but you weren't sure you liked your boss telling you to go on a date with someone.

"I'll think about it," You mumbled, making your way toward the stairwell, counting down the steps until you'd be outside and in front of the black SUV that was waiting for you.

As soon as you stepped onto the pavement Hyunjin - along with two huge men - were waiting for you,

"You won't give up, will you?" You quizzed, wrapping a scarf around your neck as you tried to beat the cold air that was whipping around.

"Not while I'm alive," Hyunjin said with a cocky smile plastered across his cheek. He was standing there in a simple suit and yet it was like the freezing temperature didn't bother him one bit. You sighed a little looking at him and then at the two men who appeared to look cold.

"Fine. ONE date. That's it!" You told yourself that you were agreeing to this so that the two men beside Hyunjin could finally go and get warm again.

"Okay, one date." He nodded stepping to the side and offering you to get into the car. It was either a car ride home with him or the subway so you began to walk toward the car,

"You're not going to fight for more than one?" Not that you were complaining but you had expected a little fight from him after all the effort he'd done to get you to accept. As you stepped into the car Hyunjin pulled you back so that your back was against his chest and he whispered in your ear,

"Trust me, I know you'll be begging for more." His breath caught against your skin and that's what you blamed the butterflies that were fluttering inside of your stomach on. There was no way you were attracted to him, not when he was a walking red flag, so you brushed the feeling away and sat in the back of the car.

"I'll pick you up on Saturday. Wear something fancy," Hyunjin told you with a smile, lifting your hand to his lips and kissing your skin softly. He wasn't going to drive home with you tonight, he trusted his driver to take good care of you which was why he'd been sending him every morning before work as well as after. He couldn't stand the thought of you riding the subway every day, not when there were dangerous people about.

Not to mention, now that you'd been associated with him you were a walking target already and he wasn't going to let anything happen to you.

"I don't have anything fancy." You contended but he smirked at you, he'd already taken care of something he'd wanted you to wear for him.

"I'm sure you'll find something." With that he shut the door and tapped the side of it, watching as the car drove off into the night.

Hyunjin hadn't lied when he told you that you'd find something, when you'd walked into your apartment the other night there had been a box waiting for you with your name on it.

Inside was one of the most stunning dresses you'd ever laid your eyes on and you dreaded to think how much money it would have cost him. But there were more pressing questions you had. How did he get into your apartment? and How did he know your dress size? All things you were planning on asking him as you waited for him inside the lobby of your apartment building. It was far too cold to be waiting outside in your gown - which was what it was, a ball gown. Something you'd never thought you'd wear.

A long silky green ball gown that slit up your left leg and stopped just below the top of your thigh, revealing your leg in a sexy - yet classy way. You had no idea what Hyunjin had in store for you but you were a little worried,

"Miss Yln, Mr Hwang is here," You nodded at your doorman - Ted - said as you slowly got up from the chair and let out a deep breath. You were nervous about all of this, but you were more nervous about meeting up with Hyunjin, what if he didn't like the dress on you? What if he changed his mind and left without saying anything?

You had no time to question anymore as a hand slowly took yours and a kiss was placed upon your skin, you hadn't even noticed you were outside until you felt him touch you.

"You look beautiful, as always," He whispered to you, looking at you and taking in your appearance. His personal shopper had been right the dress was perfect for you, he had half the mind to stay in all night instead of taking you out with him.

"T-Thanks, you look good too." "Good" was an understatement, you don't think you'd ever seen a man look so hot in your entire life. He was once again in a suit but this one was different, he was in a tailored suit with a bow tie and looked just as fancy as you did tonight.

"We should get going, don't want to be late." He nodded over to the limo and your eyes bulged out of your head,

"Where are we going?" You quizzed as he took your hand in his and helped you into the back of the black Limo. It was dark inside except for some LED lights that lined the underside of the seats and some fake stars on the ceiling.

"An event I was invited to," Hyunjin answered, not giving you the answers you clearly wanted from him but he was enjoying getting to toy with you a little.

You'd come into his life so unexpectedly and he loved it, he found himself thinking about you when he knew he should have been working or when he was painting. Sitting in his art studio at home were countless paintings of you, all in different scenarios but you'd become his muse.

"What event?" He chuckled a little as he shut the door to the limo, glancing at you with a smirk on his face. He already loved that you asked him so many questions, you had a backbone and it was nice to have someone around him like that. Everyone else was so quick to bend to him and he hated how dull and boring that was. With you, he had to fight for what he wanted and you fought back just as hard.

"Do you always ask this many questions?" He arched a brow, holding out a glass of champagne for you to take and you studied it for a second wondering if you could take it or not.

"Yes, and you won't get out of them by avoiding them. I have many, starting with how you knew my dress size and how you got into my apartment?" You took the glass from him, watching as he took a drink from his own and you downed the glass that you were holding.

"I trust you did research on me?" He wasn't stupid, he knew someone would have told you his full name and you would have googled him sooner or later. Besides, he wanted you to know some things before going forward with a date with him,

"Well...Y-Yeah but that doesn't answer-"

"I'm a very powerful man, Miss Yln, I can get into any place I want and once I was in your place I found your dress size." He said it as if it was the most casual thing in the world for someone to do and you didn't know if it scared you or excited you.

"Do I need to sweep for hidden cameras?" Something you hadn't thought of before, what if he had it set up so he could see you changing?

"Spying isn't my style."

"No, but stalking seems to be." You grumbled at him, making him laugh with you, but you weren't joking.

"I wouldn't call it stalking. I was giving you gifts."

"And sending a car all of the time, finding out where I lived." You reminded him and he rolled his eyes playfully at you. It wasn't as though he'd paid for someone to give him your address, it was public information if you looked hard enough.

"Where you live is employer information, wasn't my fault you worked for me." Hyunjin shrugged you but frowned at him, you didn't work for him as far as you knew.

"I work for Brady."

"Who works for me. It's a big world out there, my little muse." The nickname sent a tingle up and down your spine and you hated yourself for it. You were supposed to be turned off by him but the more time you spent around him the more drawn to him you were.

"Muse?" You raised your eyebrow and he smirked at you a little,

"A source of inspiration."

"No, I know what a muse is, why are you calling me it?"

"It's a cute nickname," He shrugged not letting you know just yet that you were the one thing keeping his art alive and he would do anything to make sure he didn't lose his inspiration now he'd found it.

"This place is huge." You whispered to Hyunjin as you walked around the huge art gallery he'd bought you along to. All of the walls were painted a brilliant white colour so that the canvases and other art pieces stood out among the masses.

"It's lovely to see you Mr Hwang, and with a date? It's already rare to see you out but even more rare with someone with you." You stared at the journalist who seemed to be buzzing with excitement as Hyunjin dropped his arm to be around your waist, and your stomach flipped.

Those damn butterflies inside of you needed to stop, you wanted to crush each and every one of them for feeling for Hyunjin,

"I trust you'll keep everything off the books that you see here tonight. I wouldn't want Yn scared off."

"Of course, it's lovely to meet you Yn." The man bowed to you before leaving you both alone and you were a little speechless.

"Does everyone bend to your every command?"

"Everyone except you." He stated as he took two glasses from a passing waiter, handing one of them to you before drinking all of the contents from his own. He was nervous and he hadn't been this nervous for something in his whole life, at least not for a long time but being here, with you, made him nervous.

"You hate that, don't you?" You giggled drinking slowly from the glass and watching your date as he turned to look at you and smiled,

"No, I actually kind of love it."

"Why?" You didn't understand how a man who could get everything he could ever want by the snap of his fingers would ever want you. He could have anybody else and yet he wanted you,

"You don't make life boring. You're excited," He told you while looking into your eyes,

"So, you like me fighting you back?"

"My little muse, I love everything you do." Before you had time to process anything else he began to walk with you toward some paintings that were hanging up.

"Tonight's function is about raising money for schools." You frowned as he told you this.

"Art schools, if we raise enough money we can add more scholarship programmes for kids who can't afford to come to schools we provide." If your heart wasn't already singing for him before it was practically making an album devoted to him by now. If you were listening to him right he was building art schools for people,

"We?" You stuttered a little, there was no way it was true. Everything you'd been reading about him and it had never once mentioned this.

"Hmm, me and a board of chairmen. My name isn't on anything, I don't want people to know about it and use it against me. Or destroy it," He stared down at you, your eyes hadn't moved from his face the whole time it was like you were seeing him in a whole new light right now,

"What made you decide that was what you wanted to do with your time and money?" Hyunjin opened his mouth to speak but his eyes glanced behind you and he smiled warmly,

"Geum Ji Eun," He greeted, you spun around to see a teenage boy who bowed to you both and you did the same.

"It's beautiful, no?" Someone with a thick British accent asked causing you to turn your head to see someone standing beside you. You'd spotted him around as you'd been walking but you smiled a little at him, trying to be as polite as possible,

"Ah, now I see the real reason for your stare, you're the woman in the painting," You'd been staring at the painting for almost ten minutes now trying to figure out why Hyunjin would have painted you and displayed you here. The piece was labelled "Little Muse" and it wasn't the only painting that displayed you as the main focus but it was the one you were most drawn to.

It depicted you inside of an art studio in a white button-up shirt and shorts while painting on your own canvas, it was clearly something Hyunjin had created on a whim since you'd never done anything like that but it was beautiful.

"I don't think I am, I think it's just a coincidence," You laughed nervously looking around for Hyunjin but you could no longer see him from where you were standing.

"I don't think so, I think Hyunjin painted you for a reason." The man stepped closer to you and all of the hairs stood up on the back of your neck letting you know that something wasn't right.

"That reason being?" You backed off a little but he continued to step forward until you hit something hard behind you, panicking you looked up to see a bald man who could have been 6''5 looking down at you with an angry scowl on his face.

"He wants people to know you're his," The first man growled out, stepping toward you so that he was almost touching you,

"I suggest you move away from my future wife or I'll make sure you die a slow and torturous death," You said nothing about the future wife comment but watched as the two men scattered away from you clearly terrified of Hyunjin.

"Future wife?" You questioned him as he stepped closer to you, looking down at you and scanning your features trying to see if you were hurt or scared in any way but you didn't appear to be.

"How is it, that two men can scare you and you completely forget about them and ask me about something I said?" He laughed a little and shook his head at you, you were braver than he thought.

"I knew you'd never let them hurt me." You spoke without thinking about it first causing you and Hyunjin to freeze in place. He didn't think earning your trust would be as easy as it was.

"You trust me that much?"

"I-" You did and you didn't even know why, but you did and you weren't going to lie about it to him.

"I'm not sure why, but I do." A giant smile took over Hyunjin's face and he took you by your arm and began to walk around the gallery with you once again.

Throughout the rest of the evening whenever you were introduced to someone Hyunjin made sure to introduce you as his "future wife" which would have been something that put you off but for some reason it didn't. It only made you giggle and shake your head at him.

"Thank you for an amazing night," Hyunjin said as he slowly leaned forward a kissed your cheek, sparks flew from the contact and your stomach felt as though it was going to explode.

"Do you want to come up for a hot drink?" You found yourself asking, you didn't want the night to end and you needed more of him.

"Are you sure?" You nodded at him and Hyunjin paid his driver to wait for him but you smirked a little.

"Spend the night," As soon as the words left your lips Hyunjin's cheeks blushed bright red and you turned to walk into the building, swaying your hips a little as you knew he'd be watching you walk away from him.

"You're so hot," He groaned as you got into the elevator of your apartment, your body was pushed up against the mirror as you looked back at him a giggled.

"Do you know how hard it's been keeping my hands and lips to myself all night?"

"No one told you to," You whined out at him before he kissed your neck softly.

"You enjoy challenging me, don't you? Fuck, it turns me on so much whenever you fight back at me." He groaned a little before kissing up to your lips and kissing you deeply, grabbing your neck and pushing you into him.

He wanted to take his time with you and be gentle but he couldn't, not when he was craving you as much as he did right now. His lips moved to your neck and he began sucking on your skin, smirking as he heard a moan escape your lips that was almost as beautiful as you.

"I need to taste you," He groaned sinking to his knees in front of you making your eyes fly open,

"Hyunjin, we're in public,"

"I want to taste you, so I'm going to," Besides it was almost two in the morning it wasn't as though someone was going to get into the elevator with you.

He pushed the dress up and found you naked below the silk,

"No underwear?" He smirked before he gently began rubbing your clit making you gasp out, you were soaking wet for him and he wasn't going to waste a single second waiting to get to your apartment. His tongue dragged against your slit and you whined at him,

"Please...Hyunjin," You begged no longer caring that you were in an elevator with him right now.

"Spread your legs, I want full access to what's mine." He ordered and this time you didn't fight him, you moved your legs further apart and he placed one of them over his shoulder. He was ravenous for the taste of you, he wanted nothing more than to make you cum for him as he sucked on your clit slowly pushed two fingers into you and stole your moans away from you,

"That's it, little muse, let it go." He moaned out as you began to work your hips on him, grinding yourself into his face as he thrust his tongue into you. Your hands slowly moved to his hair and you gripped onto him tightly as you rode his face, moaning his name louder each time you rocked your hips.

"F-Fuck," You swore out, your eyes screwed shut as your orgasm hit you knocking you over the edge as you screamed his name out.

Hyunjin slowly raised and smirked as the elevator arrived at your floor and you stormed out dragging him but his blazer as you tried your best to hurriedly open your apartment door.

As soon as the two of you were in your apartment you threw your arms around the back of his neck and kissed him desperately, kicking off your shoes and biting down on his lip.

"I need you," You moaned out, the orgasm you'd gotten in the elevator wasn't enough, you needed more of him, all of him and you weren't going to stop until you had him.

"You sure? I don't want you to regret it," You knew he was teasing you and you hated him for it as you unbuckled his belt and pulled him free from the confines of his pants.

"Does it seem like I will?" You moaned out, pumping his cock in your hand slowly as he let out a low groan,

"I want you," You begged, pushing the head of his cock to your clit and rubbing yourself against him, the friction simply wasn't enough for you,

"Don't I deserve it?" You put on a pleading voice and Hyunjin growled, if he wasn't careful he was going to lose control of you and he wanted to savour every second he had.

"Tell me you want this," He ground out, looking down at you as you giggled a little.

"I want you to fuck me Hwang Hyunjin." Without a second to lose he followed you to your bed and smirked as you stripped out of your dress hurriedly making him strip too.

"You sure?" He smirked as he watched you glare at him,

"Shut the fuck up and fuck me," You mumbled as he laid you down on the bed, his head dipping down as he licked your breast biting down on your nipple and tugging it with his teeth, you whimpered out and your legs spread further apart. You pointed to the nightstand and Hyunjin ragged it open, finding a condom and rolling it onto himself with not a second to spare.

It was slow at first as he thrust into you, looking down at you as he gave you some time to adjust, his lips kissing you hungrily as you tightened around him. God, he was bigger than you thought he was and your eyes squeezed tightly as you tried to ignore the slight pain you were feeling, you knew it would pass soon.

“You’re so tight, little muse.” He groaned, slowly pulling out of you and thrusting into you once more, your walls stretching around him each time as you whimpered his name out.

"You're just too big," You hissed, pulling his hair a little as he groaned,

"But you can take me, can't you, little muse?" He teased pushing into you deeper and you could have sworn you could feel him in your gut,

“H-Hyunjin,” You moaned out, looking at him as he smirked a little.

“Faster…Please,” You begged before he nodded at you, thrusting in and out of you a little faster this time, your whole body shaking as you moaned his name out so loud you were sure your neighbours were going to complain but you didn’t care.

Sex with Hyunjin felt like nothing could ever harm you again, like nothing else in the world mattered as long as he was fucking you.

“I want you like this every night,” He groaned out, thrusting harder as he looked down at you with lust in his eyes.

“I want you everywhere, over my desk, in my office, fuck,” He grunted out as his cocked pumped in you again, the sound of your skin colliding growing louder inside of the quiet room.

“I need you all the damn time.” He grunted as he kissed you deeply, your legs wrapping around his waist as you pulled him closer. God, you felt so good he never wanted this to end but he could feel his orgasm rushing closer each time you clenched around him and you weren’t far off either. He could tell by the way your mouth formed an O and your moans turned into quieter whimpers.

“Hyunjin,” You warned out as you squeezed around his cock, his hips moving at a faster speed as he grunted your name out. The new pace of his cock made your orgasm hit you like a truck and you cried out, squeezing him as you cried his name out loudly. Watching you lose it for him sent him over the edge as you milked his cock of everything he’d been holding back,

“You’re mine, little muse. My future wife, mine.” You slumped against the bed as you nodded at him, whimpering as he pulled free from you and discarded the used condom into the bin inside of your room.

“Yours.” You mumbled to him as he let out a breathy chuckle and made his way to your bathroom, running you a hot bath for you to relax inside of before he took you for a second time that night.

Throughout the years your relationship with Hyunjin only grew stronger the longer that you were together and you were always his “little muse” no matter who came into his life, including your daughter whom he called “mini muse”. The two of you were the light of his life and he was so thankful to run into you all those years ago in the paint store - which he bought and renamed “little muse” after you got married. It was safe to say Hyunjin was more than obsessed with you.

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bby-deerling · 4 months

Text

one piece + random nsfw headcanons

a bunch of wild card nsfw headcanons i have about various one piece characters!

18+, nsfw, mdni

masterlist

ft. zoro, sanji, robin, nami, kid, law

cw: afab!reader, fem!reader (for zoro only, he calls you a gendered pet name), oral sex, piv sex, overstimulation, sex toys, dirty talk, bondage, threesomes, frobin mention, quickies, free use, bdsm dynamics, messy sex, fingers in mouth, wlw sex, strap ons, inappropriate use of devil fruit, rough sex, soft zoro

zoro

absolutely makes out with your pussy. he's sloppy with it, but each swipe of his tongue—whether it's across your clit or inside of you—is passionate, driven by instinct, and fine-tuned to make you fall apart. he won't stop until you're a drooling mess for him, overstimulated, dripping, and beyond ready for his cock.

loves to dirty talk when he's in the mood for it, but keeps it to short, teasing statements; he's addicted to the way your walls flutter around him when he mumbles something filthy in your ear, or calls you a pretty girl. he's not much of a moaner, but will sigh, grunt, and occasionally growl.

prefers slow, passionate, intimate sex, but on occasion he'll tie your wrists together with his bandana, or use it as a blindfold and be a bit rougher with you. using something so deeply intertwined with who he is to restrain or tease you stirs something inside of him; you're completely his, and that turns him on so much that he loses all composure and restraint.

sanji

though he lives to please, he has some secret interest towards occasionally being a bit more dominant with you in bed. he feels incredibly ashamed every time he jerks off thinking about it, and will be distracted and distraught the rest of the day.

if you bring up to him that you want him to take on more of a lead during sex, he jumps at the opportunity (he wants to please you, after all), but deep down, he is extremely anxious, and worried about pushing things too far. he goes a bit overboard discussing boundaries in great detail beforehand to make sure he knows exactly what is on the table for you.

once you get into it, it's like a switch is flipped in his mind, and it's honestly thrilling to see such a different side of sanji. as he bends you over, ties your wrists together with his tie, and growls hushed commands into your ear, you feel so special that he's temporarily letting go of his chivalrous mindset to please you, and he's over the moon that you are placing so much trust in him.

robin

this is by no means an unpopular opinion, but robin is the best soft dom out there. she loves to overstimulate you with an unfathomable amount of hands roaming and caressing each inch of your body, but is careful to keep you on edge until you make her cum with your mouth; after all, you have to be good for her before you get your reward! ;)

if you're down for it, would be open to sharing you with franky, as long as she's calling the shots. she's in charge of everything both you and franky experience, and is a bit greedy as she keeps a monopoly on your sweet mouth.

aftercare with robin goes the whole nine yards—bubble baths, massages, soothing sweet nothings—the problem is it's hard for her to keep her touches chaste, and it often devolves into a steamy make out session, followed by more romantic, intimate sex.

nami

whether she is more active or passive in bed depends on her mood. she's more than willing to take charge and tease you into oblivion, but more often than not she's really overworked and needs to be taken care of and doted on.

tastes so unfathomably good—tangy with a hint of acidity from all of the citrus she eats. it's so easy to get pussy drunk with how good her nectar tastes (don't worry, she always returns the favor!) she is not the biggest fan of penetration, but loves to give you the strap, and makes you suck it clean afterwards!

she loves to 69 with you; with your pussy in her face while she overstimulates you, she loses track of time, lets her stress and worries melt away, and indulges herself in everything you have to give her. afterwards, she'll giggle, whisper a thank you to you, and snuggle up for a relaxing nap with you, ignoring the dripping wetness between both of your thighs.

kid

he is a freak in bed and into nearly any and everything under the sun. wanna roleplay? he loves it. want a threesome? he's already calling killer into the room. is especially interested in toys, and makes his own—vibrators, dildos, fuck machines, saddles—you name it, he's making it for you and testing it on you thoroughly.

he can start off slow and teasing on occasion, but sex with him always ends up rough, passionate, and full of the filthiest dirty talk that you can imagine. quickies are a normal part of the day, since his appetite for you is nearly insatiable; bring up free use to him and he's over the moon at the prospect of pushing you up against the wall, and splitting you in two with his fat cock anywhere, any time.

loves seeing his lipstick smeared across your face, breasts, and hips. bonus points if you copy his look, and your preferred shade ends up in a ring around the base of his cock. he's possessive (with anyone besides killer), and loves to leave marks all over your body so everyone knows exactly who fucked you so hard that you're stumbling all over the deck.

law

he is so mid at eating pussy but thinks he is great at it—i just know this deep in my bones; luckily his fingers can compensate for where he's lacking, and get you there every time. the tattoos on his digits aren't just appealing to you; he loves the way his inked fingers look coated with your essence, and loves making you taste yourself and lick them clean even more.

the stroke game is both godly and brutal; law falls hard and fucks hard. his mean, unrelenting pace is juxtaposed by semi-sweet touches as he holds you close. the difference in sensations is dizzying and overwhelming, a physical manifestation of the conflict of him wanting to both cherish and take you simultaneously.

he loves receiving head; seeing you on your knees for him choking on his cock makes him crave you so, so deeply. he has a deep seated need to maintain control, and he's addicted to the way you're just so obedient for him as your tongue swirls around his shaft.

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wttcsms · 4 months

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baby, oh baby ; satoru gojo

pairing satoru gojo x f!reader word count 1.2k synopsis gojo is surprisingly good at caring. (or: he comforts you while you get morning sickness and start spiraling). content contains thr*wing up (morning sickness), pregnancy, pregnant!reader, domestic fluff, soft!gojo, reassurance

Satoru Gojo knows he’s a dead man from the minute he swings open the bathroom door and finds you curled up by the toilet.

Even in his shirt and a pair of sweatpants that have clearly seen better days, with your hair all messed up and your lips chapped, Gojo thinks you are absolutely adorable. Beautiful, even.

He tells you this, thinking it’ll cheer you up, but all you do is narrow your pretty little eyes at him.

“You,” you practically snarl at him. “You did this to me!”

He raises his hands in mock surrender. “Now, honey, I know it’s been a while since you took a biology class, but it takes two of us to, you know—” He gestures to your stomach, which still isn’t showing much of a bump since it’s only the first trimester, but you get the message. He decides he should have just shut up whenever you send him an absolutely scathing glare.

“It’s all my fault.” He immediately changes his tune. “You’re right, honey, I am an awful person for getting you pregnant. You should kill me for my transgressions.”

“You want to make me a single mother now?” You snap at him.

“Okay, I see that that was the wrong thing to say.” Gojo tries to give you a soothing smile to calm you down, but it comes off as more of a nervous grimace. “I would never die early and let you raise our wonderful child alone. As a matter of fact, I refuse to die only until you tell me it’s okay to do so!”

“Satoru.” You close your eyes, opening the toilet lid, anticipating another bout of morning sickness to come spilling out your mouth. “Get out.”

“Nah. That’s the one thing I can’t do.” He dares to take another step into the bathroom, frowning at how cold the marble tiles are. It can’t possibly be comfortable for you to be kneeling on the floor like this, especially since you’re throwing up last night’s dinner.

“Satoru, I’m not being funny right now. I’m seriously about to vomit, and you won’t want to be here.”

He kneels down by your side, gathering your hair in his hand and pulling it all behind your shoulders. “I’m not being funny, either. I’ll stay by your side no matter what.”

You don’t reply to his sweet comment, even though you really want to. Instead, you actually do make good on your word, and only after you flush the toilet does he bother saying anything else.

“Do you feel a bit better now?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know!” You shut your eyes, leaning against him, your back pressed against the warmth of his chest. Being pregnant sounded hot during the heat of the moment when the baby was being made, but now reality is hitting, and you’re already crying about how ugly maternity clothes are. You look like a wreck right now, and you’re barely nine weeks in with the pregnancy. Meanwhile, Satoru looks fan-fucking-tastic, as he always does.

His hand finds yours easily, and he intertwines your fingers together. He starts to absentmindedly fiddle with your wedding ring as he talks.

“What’s bothering you?”

You know that while Satoru was pursuing you, there was a long line of women all excited and ready to be the one by his side. You know that Satoru sometimes is a certified flight risk, running away from intimacy when the feeling gets too overwhelming for him. You know that Satoru is the only man capable of breaking your heart, and he’s subsequently the only man who would be able to piece it back together. Even with a ring and a legal certificate binding you two together, there are still annoying little doubts running in the back of your mind that has only worsened through your anxiety of life literally being grown inside of you and unbalanced hormones.

“Everything.” You tell him, and it’s not even a joke or an exaggeration.

“Well, tell me something that’s bothering you now. Something I can solve.” He adds on this last sentence, already knowing that you would most likely ask him for the impossible just to be funny. As conceited as he acts to the outside world, Satoru is surprisingly caring and observant towards others.

“What if our baby is ugly?” You look up at him, gauging his reaction.

At first, his eyes widen, and then he laughs. You can tell it’s genuine because you can feel the way it comes from his chest.

“It has us as its parents. With both our genes combined, it won’t have much to worry about.”

“No! I’m serious! Haven’t you heard the saying that two pretty people make an ugly baby?”

“Well, we’ll be the exception.”

“I’m being serious, Satoru! Your eyes are kinda scary to look at sometimes. Our baby will need brown contacts if it inherits your eyes.”

Oh, so because you’re emotionally fragile, you’re allowed to make comments about his eyes? Satoru snorts. You better be lucky he loves you so much.

“Why does it matter if our baby is ugly? Why is our baby being ugly even a thought in your mind?”

“This world sucks. Looking good is key to having an enjoyable experience on earth. You should start worrying about our child’s future, too, you know!”

“I would fight the entire world if it mistreated our baby.” Satoru presses a reassuring kiss to the top of your head. “And I know you would, too. So who cares if our baby is ugly?”

“That’s not the point, Satoru!” You frown, knowing that you’re being ridiculous right now, but who else could handle you in this state if not him? There’s a reason why he’s the one you call your husband, and he’s the one who put the aforementioned potentially-ugly baby inside of you.

“Fine. If our baby is ugly, let’s leave it on Kento’s doorsteps and let it be his problem for the next eighteen years. Then, we can get started on the next and hope the second time’s the charm. Sounds like a solid plan?” He doesn’t mean it, but he knows it’s best to just try and nip these hypotheticals in the bud.

You’re silent for a moment. Then, “You’re awful! I would love our baby, even if it had your eyes and crazy ass hair.”

“I would love our baby, too. Ugly or not. You know why?”

“You’re going to say something corny.”

“I was going to say that I would love our baby because it came from you. Nothing ugly is coming out of your body, babe. And anyway, I love you so much, how could I hate anything that’s literally half you?”

Even if you’re in the mood to be annoying and insecure, and your brain is telling you to argue some more with your husband, you can’t help but relax after hearing this.

(Nine months later, all your worries seem to be all for naught; your son is the cutest thing to be born.)

#satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #dad!gojo #domestic fluff #fluff #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk one shot #drabble #gojo fluff #gojo x reader

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honeyedmiller · 5 months

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Birthday Girl | Joel Miller

pairing: fiancé!joel miller x fiancée!f!reader

rating: 18+, minors do not interact

warnings: lots of fluff, sweet fiancé joel, no outbreak, smut (birthday sex heh— f oral receiving, unprotected piv, fingering), joel talks you through it, praise, pet names (baby, darlin’, my love, princess), no use of y/n.

word count: 2.1k

author’s note: so today’s my 25th birthday and this is extremely self-indulgent. i’d love for someone to do this for me on a birthday in the future 🥹 also sorry for any mistakes, it was written rather quickly. this wasn’t revised. hope y’all enjoy <3

synopsis: Joel gives you a sweet surprise on your birthday.

divider by @saradika-graphics 🤍

“Baby. Baby, wake up.” The deep vibrato of Joel’s soft voice woke you, eyebrows pinched together as you slowly blinked open your eyes to wake up.

You mumbled something incoherent and Joel chuckled, knowing you didn’t like to be woken on days you got to sleep in.

“Get up, birthday girl, I have a surprise for you.” Joel kissed your forehead, then your nose, followed by one that lingered on your lips. You smiled against his lips and stretched your arms above your head, stiff joints popping in the process.

“What time is it?”

“It’s nine. I know you like to sleep in a little later, but I have something for you downstairs.”

You blinked your eyes fully awake as they adjusted to the ample rays of sun shining through the curtains in your shared bedroom. Your gaze shifted to Joel and it immediately softened. The man you love more than anything stood before you with a crooked smile on his face and messy bed hair; body adorned with those delicious gray sweats you loved on him so much and a green t-shirt you always thought he looked good in.

Just the sight of him nearly made your mouth water, but you checked yourself to behave as you’d just woken up. He held his hand out for you to take, and your soft digits slotted in his as he helped you up gently from bed. He tugged your hand to follow him downstairs, and you complied easily.

As soon as you got downstairs, you saw rose petals atop the coffee table with two gift bags and a bottle of your favorite wine.

“Joel, baby,” You grin, looking at him. “All for me?”

He chuckles and squeezes your hand. “‘F course, my love. But let’s eat breakfast first.” He pulls you into the kitchen, and a sweet aroma fills your nose. You look down at the island, seeing all of your favorite breakfast foods. Joel even made a plate of chocolate chip pancakes with whipped cream on top in the form of a smiley face.

You get teary-eyed at his sweet gesture, not ever getting used to the idea of someone caring so much for you on your special day. To him it could’ve just meant making breakfast and buying a couple of gifts, but to you, it meant the whole world.

“Thank you so much, Joel. This is so thoughtful.” You wrap your arms around his torso, giving him a chaste kiss.

“I love you, darlin’.”

“I love you too handsome.” You grin up at him, enjoying the intimate moment of being wrapped in his embrace. He moves his hands down to your ass and taps it softly, slightly separating his body from yours.

“Let’s eat breakfast.”

After breakfast, Joel insisted that you opened your presents with a promise that you’d be able to drink your wine in the evening with dinner. You tucked your legs under yourself as you leaned back against the couch, Joel handing you the first gift bag. You smile up at him and thank him, opening it carefully.

You removed the black velvet box tucked inside, opening it to reveal a pretty gold watch with an emerald green face that you’d been wanting for awhile. You gasped in awe, admiring the beautiful piece as you rotated it in your hand.

“It’s so beautiful, Joel. Thank you.” You kiss his cheek, carefully placing the watch back into the box. He hands you the next one and plants a heavy, warm hand on your bare thigh, rubbing circles into your soft skin. You open it up to find a gorgeous lavender lingerie set. The soft lace slides over your fingertips as your eyes spark with something darker, full of desire as you look back up at Joel.

“I love it. Thank you, Joel.” You sit up on your knees to face him, taking his face in both hands as you bring him in for a kiss.

He immediately reciprocates, wrapping his arms around your waist as he coaxes you to lay onto the plush carpet beneath you. You untuck your legs and open them for him so he can easily slot his broad body between them. He deepens the kiss as he cradles the back of your head, his other hand moving underneath his oversized t-shirt you were wearing.

“Y’should wear the set on our honeymoon.” He breathes against you, breaking your lips for a few seconds before reattaching his lips to yours. You didn’t have time to respond so you moved your hands up to his thick curls, giving them a small tug.

His calloused hands travel up until they reach the soft, pillowy flesh of your breasts, squeezing generously as he toys with one nipple between his index finger and thumb. You moan into his mouth, bucking your hips up to feel that he’s already rock hard in his gray sweats.

Arousal was already thick in your panties, and you were dying to be touched by Joel.

“Joel, please.” You whimper, needing his fingers, tongue, cock, anything to ease the ache in your core.

“What the birthday princess wants, she gets.” He teases, nipping your collarbone before sliding his hands up your body to remove his shirt from you. He moves one hand down your sternum, skating his fingertips over your skin. Goosebumps rise at his touch, and he looks down at you with a knowing smirk.

You take your bottom lip between your teeth, pleading with your eyes as best as you can. Joel’s gaze softens as he moves down to kiss you, moving his lips down your body. He makes sure to stop at each of your breasts, swirling his hot tongue around the pert buds before sucking lightly. You moan louder this time, the sensation shooting straight to your core.

“Fuck, Joel.” You’re breathless and soaking, canting your hips up. Joel finally moves down, nipping as he goes, kissing your tummy a few times before moving down to your clothed core. He groans at the dark wet patch he can see through your panties. He runs his knuckle over the soaked fabric, causing your body to jolt slightly at the contact.

Joel chuckles and moves down to kiss your clothed core, sticking his tongue out to lick the lace material. He was driving you crazy with his teasing, eliciting a whimper from your throat. He taps your hips twice, hinting to lift them up for him. You oblige instantly, and he easily slides the material off of your legs before spreading them again, tossing them over his shoulders.

Your glistening heat was met with his gaze, and he looked up at you. You card your fingers through his hair, stopping at the crown of his head. He smiles at you and wastes no more time, moving to give your exposed heat a kiss. You softly moan at the contact, continuing to run your hands through his soft hair.

He pokes his tongue out to lick your folds slowly, teasingly, lovingly. He was taking his time with you, lapping up your arousal at a languid pace. His tongue prodded into your entrance, fucking you slowly with the muscle. The curve of his nose was rubbing against your already sensitive clit as he did so, causing you to tumble toward your climax much faster than you’d anticipated.

Then again, you’d never met any man who could get you off as fast as Joel can. His skillful tongue knew exactly what it took to make you shake with pleasure, mouth constantly willing to praise your body over and over.

You were looking forward to it for the rest of your life.

You gripped his dark curls to signal you were close, still being shy about talking too much during intimate moments like these with him. Joel always tried to coax you, but he knew you and your body so well by now that he could tell you were on your way to an orgasm before you could even make a gesture.

“That’s it, pretty girl, there you go.” Joel coos, replacing his tongue with his fingers as they prodded your entrance. His fingers curled up to hit that sweet spot that drove you absolutely insane.

“J-Joel, god, fuck—”

“I know baby, I know. Feels good doesn’t it?”

Your brain couldn’t even conjure up a coherent sentence, so all you could do was nod desperately. The white hot coil brewing in your core was about to snap, waiting impatiently to take over your whole body with pleasure.

Joel brought his mouth down to your clit and sucked it a few times, finally sending you over the edge. Your legs shook as your cunt spasmed, head fuzzy with euphoria.

“There you go. That’s a good girl, let it all out. I’ve got ya.” Joel smeared his slick lips against your inner thigh, nipping your skin softly. The drag of his scruff had your skin on fire, sensitive to the touch.

It took you a minute to come down from your high, finally catching your breath as you stared at your fiancé with glossy eyes and a fucked-out gaze.

“Want more, baby? Need my cock too?” Joel smirked, that same smug look seeming to be permanent on his face.

“Please,” You croaked out. “Need it so bad. Need you so bad, baby.”

“Usin’ your manners n’ all. I’m all yours, darlin’.” Joel tossed his t-shirt over his head, stripping himself of his sweatpants and boxers as well. He was painfully hard, pre cum seeping from the weeping head of his cock.

Your gaze shifted back up to his as he hovered above you, a soft look in his eyes that made you fall even more in love with him. He placed one hand by your head to steady his arm as he took his other one to stroke himself before lining up with your slick entrance. His eyes flicked back up to yours, and you gave him the smallest of smiles to let him know it was okay.

He slowly slid into you, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, legs mirroring your arms as they wrapped around his torso.

He leaned down to kiss you and you both sighed into each other as he reached the hilt, starting off by slowly rocking his hips. He kept whispering sweet praises in your ear— takin’ me so well, you’re so beautiful, love you so much, can’t wait for you to be my wife.

Your wedding was only a few months away, and the thought of spending forever with your best friend in the whole world meant everything and more to you.

Joel’s head dropped to your shoulder as his pace picked up, breathing ragged as his hips snapped into yours.

“God, you feel so good Joel. No one ever compares to you, my love. Can’t wait to—” You squeeze your eyes shut as you feel your second orgasm slowly start to build. “—Can’t wait to be your wife. Spend the rest of my life with you.” You cry, hands moving to his back as you slide your fingers down to the plush of his ass.

His hips rocked violently into yours at this point, groaning at your words.

“My wife.” He grunts, and the slide of his heavy cock in and out of you at an unforgiving pace had you seeing stars.

“M-husband.” Your words were slurred, absolutely cock drunk on the man pounding into you. That same coil wound up tightly, and Joel could feel you squeezing him. He moved a hand down to your clit, giving you that extra push you needed before you were diving over the edge, orgasm crashing down like waves kissing the shore.

You chanted Joel’s name over and over, clenching around him to bring him to his end. His hips started to stutter, and he leaned down to nip your collarbone with kisses before burying his head in your neck as he reached his high.

His thrusts were sporadic, filling you up with everything he had to offer. He slumped down, cradling your body as if you were a fragile flower in a field of thorns.

Joel always made sure to let you know how much he loved you, even if it wasn’t through words. His actions said more than enough, loving you like you’ve never been loved before.

He kissed the crown of your head as he slipped out of you, catching his breath.

“Happy birthday, my love. I’ll be sure to make this year the most special you’ve had yet.” He squeezed you in his arms as reassurance following his sweet words.

And you, of course, knew that Joel Miller would lay down the whole world at your feet if he could. You had your best friend and lover all in one by your side, and that’s all you could wish for this year, and the many more to come.

tags: @party-hearses ; @ilovepedro ; @bastardmandennis ; @nostalxgic ; @tinygarbage

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagines #joel miller one shot #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #fiance!joel #pedro pascal imagines #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal one shot

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carebooks · 3 months

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to all those new comers to the Percy Jackson world and being off on shipping Percabeth because Poseidon and Athena are uncle and niece, it’s stated in the books (specifically The Lost Hero) that gods don’t have DNA the way humans do.

and if that still doesn’t convince you or you may think it’s not a real or valuable explanation, let’s recall other ways that births happen in both greek myths and the Riordanverse:

- Zeus birthed Athena from his brain

- Athena’s demigod children are born the same way. out of her mind. so Annabeth is already way off from the usual goddess birth route

- Zeus also birthed Dionysus from his thigh

- Hephaestus was born from Hera and Zeus, but in a lot of versions its actually Hera who just had him by herself. she got pregnant and it happened. they’re gods. (then chucked him down a mountain) again, they’re gods.

- Hebe, goddess of youth, was born from Hera and a piece lettuce she ate

- in the Trials of Apollo, we learn that Kayla Knowles, daughter of Apollo, has a human father, Darren. meaning she has two fathers: Darren and Apollo. no mother involved in her creation whatsoever.

- Zeus has impregnated quite a large number of people during his time and in various different forms. one of the weirdest ones by far was when he came to a queen in the form of a swan, embraced her as that swan and nine months later she gave birth to two eggs. they hatched and inside was Helen of Sparta (as in Helen of Troy), Clytemnestra, Castur and Pollox.

- Poseidon and Medusa had a child and that child was born from Perseus cutting off Medusa’s head. that child was Pegasus. (yes, that Pegasus) (also some other dude was born too)

- Aphrodite was born out of sea foam made from the severed genitals of Ouranos that fell to the oceans

have i convinced you already? are we done here?

#like seriously do you know how weird greek myth births are?#how can anyone see twins hatch from eggs and think ‘huh DNA? lets find out’ like no #there is no DNA #apollo becomes a hummingbird for days on end and probably has children in dofferent forms of animals too #he can become pure light #and you wann boil it down to DNA #booo tomato tomato #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy series #pjo #annabeth chase #percabeth #trials of apollo

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angels-sins0 · 6 months

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Ghost x f!reader

Cw: back at it again smut, emotionally unavailable Simon, rough sex, age gap relationship (Simon is depicted in his late 30’s and the reader is around 21), older man!Ghost, young & naive!reader, unprotected sex, creampie, hurt/no comfort, angst, no happy ending, Simon Riley is a fucking asshole.

You’ve been in your bed for the past week, the only thing going through your mind was the last time you were with Simon. You felt so stupid the more you replayed your actions in your head.

He tried calling you three times, but you knew it wasn’t out of the kindness of his heart. He wasn’t calling to apologize or to see how you were doing. He was calling because he needed you to be his own personal whore for a few hours.

You wondered why he treated you like you were the scum of the earth. It was so unfair. You were a relatively nice girl, you let him use you however he pleased. You gave him everything he asked for and more. So why? Why the hell was he such an asshole to you? Why was he so—

A knock at your door shook you out of your thoughts.

You got up and opened the door.

“Simon?”

“Why the hell aren’t you answering your phone?” He asked, his voice laced with anger.

“I wasn’t feeling well.” You said while moving your body away from the door so he could come in.

“Do you feel better now?” Simon glanced over your body.

“I don’t know…I guess?” You leaned against the closed door as he walked towards you.

Your breathing got heavier when his hand reached up to caress your cheek. He looked at your eyes then your lips.

“Why are you here, Simon?” You didn’t mean for it to sound rude but you wished your words were more hurtful because he clearly didn’t care.

He sighed then said “Had a long week at work. Needed to blow off some steam.”

“Oh…”

Without another word, Simon pulled up his mask just enough so that it rested on his nose, and went in to kiss you.

You moaned as he forced his tongue into your mouth. You hated the effect that he had on you, hated that no matter what he did, your body still welcomed him with open arms.

“Ghost-“ He started kissing his way down to your neck, and you wrapped your hands around both his big arms.

“Simon.” He corrected you, before lifting you up, and moving you to your bedroom.

He laid you down on the bed, then pulled back to take off his shirt, and unbuckle his belt.

You whimpered when he got on top of you and started undressing you, making quick work of your shorts and underwear.

You both let out a moan when he finally slid in, filling you up to the brim, and laying still for a few moments before you started squirming.

“Start—mmh—moving…please.” And he did exactly that, moving at a medium pace.

You bucked your hips to meet his thrusts but he held them down. “Stop.” He demanded.

Simon moved one of his hands to tuck a few loose pieces of your hair behind your ear.

He was pounding into you so hard that you physically couldn’t keep your eyes open, turning your head to the side so you couldn’t feel his gaze lingering on you.

“Open your eyes.” He firmly grabbed your face and prevented you from looking away.

You stared into each other’s eyes and he seemed to be almost enjoying it, enjoying the way your face contorted in pleasure.

“Simon! I’m gonna—oh fuck!” You screamed and he couldn’t help but smirk.

You cried out his name as you came, you felt like you were on cloud nine and he kept fucking you through your orgasm.

Simon thrusted into you a couple more times before he came inside you.

You were exhausted at this point and you could tell he felt the same by the way he collapsed on the bed next to you.

It was silent for a few minutes before you found yourself leaning towards him and wrapping an arm around him.

You gave his shoulder a quick kiss which seemed to be the breaking point for him.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Simon angrily asked after he got up from your bed.

“I-I thought we had a good time tonight…you know? You weren’t like your usual self and i thought maybe-“

“That i was what? Falling in love with you or some shit?”

“I didn’t say that. I just wanted to-“

“Get it through your fucking head. I don’t feel that way about you!” He shouted at you while grabbing his pants and putting them on.

You felt an immense amount of hurt rush through you but you still couldn’t find it in you to be angry at him.

“Fucking hell…if I knew this is how you would get, I never would’ve thought about touching you.”

“I hate you.”

“I’m not that fucking crazy about you either.” Simon said before storming out of your apartment.

You fell back on the bed and that’s when all the tears you were holding back started pouring out.

You felt like your entire world came crashing down on you. It’s not like you expected him to be head over heels for you but you also didn’t think he would be such an asshole when it came to your feelings.

You didn’t sleep that night. How the hell could you when all you could think about was him?

For the next few days you couldn’t bring yourself to eat, sleep, or do anything except lay in your bed.

You hated knowing that he wasn’t bothered by this like you were.

#ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley smut #ghost cod #ghost smut #ghost x reader angst #ghost x reader smut #ghost x y/n #ghost x you #simon ghost riley #ghost angst

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sadnymi · 29 days

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「 ✦ cloud nine p2.✦ 」

Mattheo riddle × reader [part1]

Summary: The "jinx girl," as they call her, is said to bring bad luck. However, when Mattheo Riddle decides to get to know the school's most neglected girl and takes matters into his own hands, Y/N's life is turned upside down in a mere night.

Warnings:angst, smut, fluff

Words: 13.5k

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[ A Cry for Help (and Hippogriffs)]

Dear Uncle Ben ,

Consider this my official "You were absolutely right (but with way more heartbreak)" letter. Remember all those warnings you showered me with before I left for Hogwarts? Werewolves, Dementors, rogue Gillyweed incidents (honestly, who even uses that stuff anymore?) You covered the whole spectrum of nightmarish magical creatures. But why, oh why, did you neglect to warn me about charming Slytherins with a really really pretty smiles and the ability to shatter hearts ?

Yes, Uncle Ben, your favorite niece (and, let's be honest, only niece) has officially fallen from cloud nine and landed face-first in a puddle of disappointment. Remember Mattheo Riddle? The one with the eyes like melted chocolate and a smile that could disarm a grumpy Hippogriff? Turns out….well, you get the picture. My heart is in as many pieces as a poorly repaired Floo Network."

So, here's the thing, Uncle Ben . **I'm done. Hogwarts can keep its feasts, its Quidditch matches, and its overly enthusiastic Potions lessons.** I wouldn't be caught dead on the Hogwarts Express, and frankly, the Burrow isn't exactly calling my name right now either.

This is where you come in, my valiant (and hopefully broomstick-wielding) savior. **I need an extraction, Uncle Ben . A daring rescue. A grand exit that would make even Dumbledore raise an eyebrow.** Floo powder me out? Sneak me aboard a disguised Thestral? Honestly, at this point, I'd even settle for a well-timed Hippogriff stampede (though maybe not – those beaks look awfully sharp).

So please uncle Ben As soon as this letter reaches your extraordinary hands, pack your Niffler leash, your Newt-approved travel kettle, and anything else that might help

Your distraught (and slightly heartbroken) niece,

Y/N

P.S. Please bring some Bertie Bott's Every-Flavour Beans. Maybe a chocolate frog or two wouldn't hurt either.

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After folding the letter with care, I sealed it using a wax stamp adorned with a grumpy-looking Kneazle, a delightful creation from a talented first-year Hufflepuff. Placing it inside an owl-sized envelope addressed to "Benjamin Scamander, Ministry of Magical Creatures, Department for Beast Regulation and Control," I sent it off with a silent prayer for a speedy rescue.

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Y/N

Consider it done. Talon wasn't thrilled about the Beans (apparently, they don't quite mesh with his sophisticated palate), but the chocolate frogs seemed to appease him. Be ready by nightfall. We'll have a proper family reunion, Hippogriff style.

P.S. Don't worry about any "Hippogriff stampedes." Talon's surprisingly well-mannered (for the most part).

Love,

Uncle Ben

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After two blissful days away from Hogwarts at Uncle Ben's cozy cottage in the Welsh hills, I woke up to find him bustling about the room. Despite the comfort and serenity of our time together, I couldn't shake off the tears that stained his (probably very expensive) linens.

He lumbered in, a steaming mug clutched in his hand, followed by a bewildered-looking Billywig (apparently, they weren't exactly known for their graceful exits).

"Here," he said kindly, placing the mug on the bedside table. "Peppermint tea. Guaranteed to cure a broken heart… or at least numb it a bit."

I took a shaky sip, the warmth spreading through me like a gentle hug. Uncle Ben perched on the edge of the bed, concern evident in his gaze that battled with his usual amusement.

"Alright, spill it," he finally said, a hint of exasperation in his voice. "What's got you blubbering like a Bowtruckle caught in a rainstorm?"

I choked on a sob, wiping my nose with the back of my hand. "It's just… everything. Mattheo… the rumors… the whole thing feels so stupid."

"Stupid? Sweetheart, this is practically a textbook case of teenage wizarding drama!," Uncle Ben said with a chuckle.

"First, the rumors. Turns out Charlie Spinnet, fancies you and that by the way explains the sudden change in cologne and his haircut whenever he visits. But then instead of acting like a normal human being, he decided to spread those ridiculous stories about you being a jinx?"

I nodded, sniffling. "And then there's Riddle Jr.," Uncle Ben continued, his voice laced with a hint of disapproval. "Used you for a dare? Honestly, these Slytherins – where's the chivalry gone? Back in my day, we at least serenaded our crushes with a well-timed love potion, not a staged play."

"I know right? !" I cried, wiping away fresh tears, he come closer pulling me into a warm hug.

When the last tear finally dried, a heavy silence settled between us. My eyelids drooped, exhaustion pulling me under. "Uncle Ben," I mumbled, my voice thick with sleep, "Can I… can I leave Hogwarts?"

He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching mine. "Is that what you want, Y/N?"

"I don't… I don't want to see him, or them, or…" My voice trailed off, the thought of facing whispers and pitying glances unbearable.

He squeezed my hand gently. "There are other schools, Y/N. Places where you can learn, grow, and maybe even find someone who truly appreciates you."

A flicker of hope sparked within me. A fresh start? A chance to heal away from the prying eyes and judgmental whispers? "Do you think… could I transfer… maybe to Beauxbatons?"

Uncle Ben chuckled. "Beauxbatons? Now that's an interesting choice. But hey, if you fancy learning with a bunch of wand-waving fashionistas, who am I to say no?"

The crisp Welsh air whipped through my hair as I sat on the porch swing, watching the sun set over the rolling hills. Uncle Ben's cottage, nestled amongst ancient oaks, seemed even cozier with the warm, orange light bathing its stone walls.

Thankfully, he'd managed to smooth things over with my parents, convincing them it would be perfect for me to stay with him until I figured out what to do about school.

Weeks melted into each other, and a unsettling undercurrent began to ripple through the otherwise idyllic setting. Every boy who showed even a flicker of interest in me or mustered the courage to ask me out –vanished after our initial encounter. Poof. Gone.

Only to reappear the next day, looking sheepish and pale, with mumbled apologies for missing our planned date . "something came up" or a sudden "family emergency."

kind, awkward Liam, sporty William , even that quiet bookworm Ethan – they all faced the same fate , a freckled boy named Callum, practically leaped over a nearby toadstool with a yelp, his face blanching as if he'd seen a ghost. It was as though the sight of the bumpy amphibian unearthed a buried terror within him.

And it’s seems like anyone who would show any interest in me will face the same fate

Case in point: a particular book I had discussed with a boy who worked at the library and had also asked me out for a date. The next day, that very book was on uncle Ben leaving room the next day and I knew for sure that uncle Ben wasn’t the one who did that .

Curiosity piqued, I went to the library to inquire about the book's whereabouts, only to find the boy in a state of sheer terror. He avoided eye contact and stammered out a nervous apology, his fear palpable in the way he trembled. It was as if he had encountered something terrifying, something that left him traumatized overnight. Unsettled by the encounter, I sought help from another library assistant to locate the book I wanted. This time, the assistant was more than eager to assist, his eyes darting around nervously as if expecting something unexpected to happen again.

Weeks dragged by, each day a monotonous echo of the last.

As I wake up today a tear slipped down my cheek, tracing a warm path through the cool morning air. I cursed myself under my breath, blinking furiously to clear my vision. There it was again, the lingering echo of his touch, the warmth of his smile, all remnants of a cruel dream.

Damn it. I cursed myself under my breath, throwing the covers back with a huff. How dare I miss him? How dare my traitorous subconscious paint him in a loving light after everything? The betrayal, the lies, they were all still raw, a constant reminder of his deceit.

Feeling the need for some solace and quiet reflection, I decided to head to the library

The usually a comforting haven, was eerily silent. A prickle of unease crawled up my spine. Did the boy who worked here quit ? Thanks a lot, Mattheo.

Pushing open the library doors, I was greeted by an unsettling emptiness. Pushing the thought aside, I navigated the towering bookshelves, half expecting some kind of magical mishap – maybe a rogue pixie infestation? With a spine-tingling creak. An unsettling feeling wormed its way into my stomach. Surely Johnny, the cute boy who worked here, wouldn't leave the entire library unattended?

"Hello, Johnny?" I called out, my voice echoing eerily in the vast space. No answer. Great. Just fantastic.

Shrugging it off, I ventured deeper into the labyrinth of bookshelves. The silence pressed in on me, broken only by the soft pad of my footsteps. Halfway expecting a rogue Acromantula to drop from the ceiling or a mischievous pixie to trip me with a strategically placed shoelace, I navigated the towering stacks.

Suddenly, a loud creak pierced the silence. My heart lurched, and I spun around, wand instinctively halfway out of my pocket. The heavy library door swung shut with an ominous finality. For a moment, I stood frozen, every nerve on high alert. Was I alone?

and there he was ... His usual playful smirk was replaced by a furrowed brow and a flicker of something… hurt? Regret? It was a confusing cocktail that sent my carefully constructed facade teetering on the edge of collapse.

My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs, threatening to burst from my chest. My carefully crafted mask of indifference felt like it was cracking under the sheer force of seeing him.

the silence of the library seemed deafening, amplifying the chaotic symphony playing out inside me.

I plastered a smile on my face, hoping it came across as confident and not the terrified mess I truly felt. This was ridiculous. He was the one who lied and betrayed me, not the other way around. Yet, here I was, feeling like I was the one on trial.

"Dramatic much?" I spat, my voice laced with venom. "So what's the deal now, Riddle? Bored with your little toad transformation hobby? Decided to haunt the library instead?"

He gave me a slow once-over, his gaze lingering a beat too long. It sent a shiver down my spine, a confusing mix of anger and a vulnerability I desperately tried to suppress.

Folding my arms, I tried to project an air of annoyance. "Look, Riddle," I said, forcing a harsher tone than I felt. "Let's cut to the chase. Open the door and disappear."

As he took a tentative step towards me, the carefully constructed wall around my emotions started to crumble. His eyes held a depth of emotion I couldn't decipher – hurt? Regret? It was a confusing mix that threatened to unravel me.

"You never mentioned you were a Scamander," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. The sound of it after all this time, even laced with the echoes of past pain, was a punch to the gut.

-well technically I was from my mother side but i never dared to say that to anyone afraid to bring shame to the family name , because I never felt like I deserved to.

Tears pricked at the back of my eyelids, a bittersweet smile tugging at the corner of my lips. "And you," I choked out, the words raw with hurt, "never mentioned being fucking liar . Seems like we're even, wouldn't you agree?"

he started to speak. "I know you don’t want to listen—"

Frustration bubbled over before he could finish his sentence. "Why are you even here, Riddle?" I snapped. "You know I don't want to hear your excuses."

His gaze held mine, unwavering despite the storm brewing in my own eyes.

"Stop staring at me like that!" I hissed, the vulnerability I desperately tried to hide threatening to spill over.

Desperate to break the tension, I lunged for the door, yanking on the handle. Panic surged as it remained stubbornly shut. "What's wrong with this stupid door?" I yelled, "We can't use magic outside Hogwarts!" I exclaimed, bewildered. "Did you do something to the door?" Kicking it with my foot in frustration.

Spinning back to face him, my voice trembled with a mix of fury and fear. "What did you do to those boys, Mattheo? Turned them into toads?"

A smirk played on his lips, a sight that only intensified my urge to lash out. "Not all of them," he countered, his voice laced with a hint of something… jealousy? "Why? Do you care about them?"

“Apparently I did “I challenged, my voice laced with a bitterness I couldn't hide, "That's why I agreed to go out with them in the first place."

His smugness evaporated, replaced by a desperate plea that sent a shiver down my spine. "Don't go to Beauxbatons, love," he pleaded, his voice barely a whisper, laced with such raw emotion it threatened to crack the dam of my anger ,considering his impressive stalking skills I wasn’t surprised he knew about that ..

"Don't call me that, Riddle," I choked out, squeezing my eyes shut to hold back the traitorous tears that welled up. When I opened them again, the sight that greeted me was my breaking point.

Hurt, confusion, and a flicker of something that looked suspiciously like longing swirled in his eyes. "Why - why did you keep calling me that? Why not say my name?" he asked, his voice thick with a pain that mirrored my own.

"It's just Riddle for me now ," I said, my voice cold, a desperate attempt to shield myself from the storm of emotions brewing within me.

"Please," he whispered, the word hanging heavy in the air. "Please don't go to Beauxbatons."

"Get out of my way," I snapped, my voice laced with a venom I barely recognized. "I won't say it again."

He took a hesitant step forward, his eyes pleading. "I'm not above begging," he said, his voice low and urgent. "I'll do anything you ask. You say you hate me, then hate me. Ruin my life. Do whatever will make you feel better, just do it in front of me. Stay at Hogwarts."

Shock rendered me speechless. "Don't do this," he continued, his voice cracking. "Not for me, but for you. Don't run away. If anyone deserves to leave Hogwarts, it's not you. Please, don't do this."

His words hung heavy in the air, each one a shard of truth that pierced the carefully constructed wall of anger I'd built around myself. "Let go of my hand, Mattheo," I whispered, not daring to look at him. He released me slowly, his touch a lingering ghost on my skin.

The silence stretched on, heavy and thick. Finally, I forced myself to meet his gaze. My own eyes, red-rimmed and tear-filled, mirrored the raw emotion in his. With a shaky breath, I whispered, "Open the door now , please."

He nodded, his face etched with pain. The door swung open silently, and for a moment, our eyes locked. Then, without a word, I turned and walked towards the door.

But before I reached the doorway, a new urgency filled his voice. "Y/N, wait!" He reached out a hand, but stopped himself before making contact. "I know I messed up. There's no excuse for what I did, but please believe me – I love you. And I'm not giving us up. I'll do whatever it takes to prove it to you."

The weight of his words hung in the air, a challenge and a plea rolled into one. My heart pounded a frantic rhythm against my ribs, Taking a deep. I turned and walked out, leaving Mattheo standing alone in the empty library.

Reaching Uncle Ben's cozy cottage, I fumbled with the latch, my vision obscured by a fresh wave of tears. The door creaked open to reveal Uncle Ben, his face creasing in concern at the sight of me. Before I could even think of a response, I was enveloped in his warm, familiar embrace.

"Merlin's beard, Y/N," he chuckled, his voice laced with concern, "what happened? Did you lose a duel with a particularly grumpy pixie?"

Pulling back, I managed a watery smile. "Something like that," I mumbled, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. Uncle Ben's gaze narrowed, his playful demeanor replaced by a more serious one.

"You know, all this tears and sniffles could lead one to believe…"

He paused dramatically, dragging out the suspense. "You are not pregnant, are you?”

"Pregnant? Uncle Ben, seriously?"

He threw his head back and laughed, a booming sound that filled the room. "Just checking! Seriously that world won’t survive another riddle “

We sat in comfortable silence for a while, the only sound the crackling fire in the hearth.

"You know," he finally said, his voice gentle, "sometimes the heart wants what it wants, regardless of past hurts." He met my gaze, his eyes filled with a knowing warmth. "The question is, Y/N, what does yours truly want?"

"I don't really know," I admitted, my voice barely a whisper. "One thing's for sure, though. I'm done running. I can't keep letting fear dictate my life."

“Every time something gets hard, I pack my metaphorical bags and vanish. But this time… this time it feels different."

Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision. "There's this anger inside me, this need for revenge," I confessed, letting out a shaky breath. "It scares me, Uncle Ben. "

Uncle Ben reached for me his hand warm and comforting on mine. "There's a difference, Y/N, between righteous anger and destructive vengeance," he said softly. "Anger can be a powerful motivator, a fuel that can propel you forward. But it's crucial to channel it, to use it to grow stronger, not to let it control you."

Turning to him, I met his gaze with a newfound determination. "So," I started, a mischievous glint sparkling in my eyes, "would you help me pack up my bags for Hogwarts? And maybe... with something 'Scamander related' ?"

A playful smile mirrored mine on his face. "Always up for a good mystery, Y/N," .

The Hogwarts Express journey wasn't the gauntlet of whispers and pointed fingers I'd braced myself for. The carriage felt eerily quiet, devoid of the usual gossipy chatter and giggling. A part of me wondered if this unsettling silence was Mattheo's doing.

My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs as I rounded the corner, the familiar brick facade of the school looming ahead. Taking a deep breath.

I saw him.

He was leaning against the oak tree by the entrance, a casual posture that couldn't quite hide the tension in his shoulders. His gaze was fixed on the school doors, and for a thrilling moment, I thought I might have imagined him there.

But then, our eyes met.

His breath hitched ever so slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his features before a slow smile bloomed on his face. It wasn't a wide, dazzling grin, but a soft, genuine one that crinkled the corners of his eyes.

The next morning, a nervous energy thrummed through me. Gone was the urge to flee; instead, a steely determination burned bright. I arrived at Charms class, ridiculously early, senses sharp with focus.

Adrian Pucey sauntered in, brow furrowed. "Y/N? What are you doing here so early? Malfoy's the one meeting me," he said, surprise flickering in his eyes.

"Just eager for Charms," I replied coolly. "and you said Malfoy ? No idea, really”

Actually I was the one who wrote him the fake note with Malfoy’s name to come earlier.

He cleared his throat, avoiding my gaze. "Look, about what happened , believe me what Mattheo did to me after was enough to ——"

"Don't worry about it, Adrian," I interrupteda sly smile playing on my lips."Things happen."

His surprise deepened. "You...you forgive me that easily?"

Pulling a cupcake from my bag, I offered it. "Freshly baked. Want some?"

Hesitantly, he took a bite. "Sure, thanks."

"Did you know," I said casually, "Flobberworm milk compels truth?" I winked.

Stepping closer, cupcake in hand, I re-offered it. "Second chances deserve a second cupcake, wouldn't you say?"

He hesitated, then took another bite. "Thanks," he mumbled, cheeks warming.

"Speaking of truth-telling," I said, leaning in conspiratorially, "did you know the tears of a phoenix can be used to create a voice projection charm? Like, if I whispered something to a cupcake with phoenix tears baked in, and you ate it, you'd hear it in your mind ."

He blinked, clearly unsure whether to believe me or not.

"Curious, isn't it," I murmured, "the things you can learn when you spend your summer with magical creatures."

Adrian stammered, "Wh-what have you done?"

"Ever wonder what happens when a Hufflepuff marries a Slytherin?" I continued, savoring his confusion.

A playful glint entered my eyes. "Well, for one, someone might get a taste of their own medicine," I quoted my mother with a smirk.

He attempted nonchalance. "Kids would be too good for Slytherin, not quite Hufflepuff."

"And that," I said, a triumphant smile blooming, "is where things get interesting. Especially with a Scamander in the mix.”

I continued, a triumphant grin spreading across my face.“And what happens when you push a Scamander kid too far?" I continued, a triumphant grin spreading across my face. "They use their knowledge, their magical creatures... and maybe a touch of Slytherin cunning for a little revenge.

He backed away, eyes wide.

The bell clanged, shattering the playful tension between Adrian and me. Professor Flitwick,bustled in, his voluminous black robes billowing around him like a miniature storm cloud.

"Good morning, class!" he boomed, "Today, we delve into the fascinating art of Wandless Charms! A skill that separates the truly magical from the...well, let's just say it requires a certain finesse."

Professor Flitwick launched into a lively lecture, demonstrating simple levitation charms with a flourish. As he conjured a teacup to pirouette in the air, I noticed Adrian fidgeting in his seat. Leaning in, I whispered playfully, "Enjoying the class, are we, Pucey?"

He shot me a panicked glance, then mumbled something inaudible. Taking a deep breath, I decided to push my luck a little further. With a mischievous glint in my eyes, I mouthed, "Tell the truth about what you feel of this class ."

Suddenly, Adrian's hand shot up, waving wildly. Professor Flitwick, momentarily distracted, peered over his thick spectacles at the unexpected outburst.

"Mr. Pucey?" he inquired, a quizzical eyebrow raised.

"Professor," Adrian blurted out, his voice surprisingly loud in the quiet room, "I hate Charms! It's useless and frankly, you're a terrible teacher!"

Suddenly, a loud, booming voice erupted from Adrian's mouth, echoing through the entire classroom. "I HATE CHARMS! It's the most useless class ever, I CHEATED on the exam LAST YEAR, and And I've been doing everything just to be the center of attention. I've lied, manipulated, and stepped on others to make myself look better."!"

The entire class erupted in stunned silence, followed by a wave of uncontrollable laughter. Adrian's jaw hung slack, his eyes wide with horror.

Professor Flitwick, his face purple with rage, sputtered, his fist raised in the air. "Mr. Pucey! Ten points from Slytherin! Detention for a month! And perhaps a visit to Madam Pomfrey to check your sanity!"

Adrian sunk deeper into his seat, the laughter morphing into snickers and whispers

The laughter slowly faded, replaced by the echoes of Professor Flitwick's threats. I couldn't help but stifle a triumphant smirk. Adrian practically resembled a puddle of misery in his seat, the color completely drained from his face. Mission accomplished.

Just as I reached the aisle, a hand shot out, grabbing my waist in a surprisingly firm grip. Before I could yelp in surprise, two strong hands was on either side of me , pinning me against the cool stone wall. I found myself staring into the eyes of none other than Mattheo .

"That," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine, "was fucking hot."

He brushed a stray strand of hair behind my ear with his thumb, Our gazes locked, the air crackling with sudden awareness.

My gaze remained steely, unflinching. "You liked that?" I challenged, my voice laced with a dangerous edge.

"I like everything you do," he replied with a smirk.

"Good," I said, leaning in closer, my voice barely a whisper. "Because that was just child's play. compared to what I'm planning for you, Riddle"

The bell echoed through the hallway, shattering the moment. Mattheo reluctantly released me, a hint of something akin to fascination flickering in his eyes. "Can’t wait my love ," he winked, a mischievous glint sparkling within, before disappearing into the throng of students.

My success with Adrian fueled a mischievous fire within me. The thrill of using magical creatures for a little payback was intoxicating. Professor Flitwick's class became my testing ground, a petri dish for brewing delightful chaos.

Every person who participated in the stupid play faced my revenge; none escaped unscathed.

The once dreaded nickname "Jinx Girl" had faded into a distant memory. This year, I was Lady Luck, a title whispered with a mix of awe and amusement. My string of successful pranks, each meticulously crafted with a dash of magical creature mischief, had transformed my reputation.

The whispers started subtly, like the rustling of leaves in the forbidden forest. "Did you see what happened ? Y/N's behind it, for sure!" or "Isn't it strange how everything's turned around for her lately?" It was a subtle shift, but the air crackled with a new awareness. The "Jinx Girl" label was fading, replaced by a more intriguing title - Lady Luck.

One gloomy afternoon, as I settled into a plush armchair by the crackling fire, a hesitant knock echoed through the room.

"Come in," I called out, peering over the worn pages of a Charms textbook.

The door creaked open, revealing a sheepish-looking Charlie . His blonde hair seemed to lose its usual vibrancy under the dim light, and his freckles stood out starkly against his pale face.

"Y/N," he mumbled, scuffing his worn boots on the floor. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Sure, Charlie," I said, patting the empty space beside me.

He shuffled in place, fiddling with his wand. "It's... well, everything. The rumors, the play, everything."

“ Look, Y/N, I'm so incredibly sorry. I know I shouldn't have spread those rumors. I... honestly, I was a complete idiot."

"I thought," Charlie continued, his voice laced with shame, "that if I spread those rumors, every boy would stay away from you. I didn't think it would get this bad."

A mixture of anger and curiosity bubbled within me. "Why, Charlie?" I asked, my voice calmer than I felt.

He took a deep breath, his gaze filled with regret. "I… I like you, Y/N a lot since we were just kids but you never noticed me ," he confessed, his voice barely a whisper. "And when I saw you with Mattheo, well, and after everything he did..."

He hung his head. "And the play," he mumbled. "It was me. I told Adrian about your past. I was so angry… jealous, really. After seeing you with Mattheo."

A wave of emotions washed over me. Anger for his actions, confusion for his feelings, and a spark of something else – mattheo wasn’t the one who told them about what happened .

Taking another deep breath, I met Charlie's gaze. "Those rumors hurt," I admitted, my voice firm but gentle. "And the play…" I trailed off, choosing my words carefully. "It was a low blow, Charlie. But…" I hesitated, searching for the right words.

"But you were scared," I finished, a hint of empathy softening my tone. "Jealous, even. It's okay to feel those things, Charlie."

He looked up, a flicker of hope igniting in his blue eyes. "Do you… forgive me?"

I studied him for a moment, taking in his genuine regret. "I do," I said finally. "But forgiveness doesn't erase the consequences. You hurt me, Charlie, and you hurt others I will never forget that ."

Charlie's shoulders slumped. "I know," he said, his voice filled with remorse. "I'll do anything to make it up to you."

I smiled faintly. "Please don’t do anything a normal apologize would do ."

Months had passed since I last set foot in the library, and the scent of aged paper and leather, a familiar comfort that once soothed my soul, now felt laced with a bittersweet pang. Yet, stepping back into the hushed haven felt like tumbling through a time warp. The scent of aged paper, the rhythmic tick of the grandfather clock, even the worn patches on the armchairs – everything whispered memories of Mattheo, both sweet and stinging.

the silence thrummed with echoes of hushed conversations and stolen glances. Memories of stolen moments with Mattheo – whispered secrets amongst the stacks, fingers brushing as we reached for the same book – played in a loop behind my closed eyelids.

A sigh escaped my lips as the heavy oak door shut with a soft thud behind me. The vastness of the library stretched before me, empty shelves yawning like forgotten dreams. No bustling librarians, no chattering students hunched over dusty tomes. Just me, adrift in a sea of silence, the weight of the past clinging to my every step.

But then I saw him.

Mattheo stood near the Charms section, a sly smirk twisting his lips. His eyes, usually filled with a cool amusement, held a challenge this time. A knot of tension formed in my stomach.

"You forgive him so easily," he drawled, his voice low enough to carry only between the towering bookshelves.

He gestured towards an empty space beside him, a clear invitation. My pulse quickened. Part of me wanted to whirl around and storm out, to deny him the satisfaction of any reaction. But another, more curious part, craved to know what game he was playing.

With a measured breath, I sauntered towards him, my chin held high. "Forgive who?" I asked, feigning ignorance.

He raised an eyebrow, the smirk deepening. "Come now, Y/N," he said, his voice a silky murmur. "Don't tell me you haven't had a heart-to-heart with Spinnet already."

"What do you really want, Riddle?" I demanded, my voice trembling with a mix of hurt and confusion.

Mattheo took a shaky breath, his hand reaching out hesitantly before retracting. "I can't do this anymore, Y/N," he confessed, his voice raw. "I thought if I gave you some space..."

"Space?" I scoffed, tears welling up again. "Space? You call watching me all summer, space? I know what you did to those boys, and then threatening everyone in this school on the first day to not talk or do anything to me space??" I yelled, tears streaming down my face.

The words tumbled out, fueled by a wellspring of hurt I hadn't even realized I was holding onto. "I don't understand, Mattheo! I don't really understand. I've dealt with difficult things before, truly awful things, but none of them hurt as much as this betrayal. Why? Why can't I get over it? Why does it feel like someone ripped open my soul and stomped on it a million times? Then it hit me. You did that, Mattheo. You."

My voice broke, replaced by a choked sob. "You showed me a love I never knew existed, a love I never dared to dream of , showered me with affection and tenderness. You touched parts of my soul I never knew were there. Every inch of me, every piece of me – my heart, my mind, my soul – had your name written all over it , Every fiber of my being, every beat of my heart, seemed to have your name etched upon it. And then, you snatched it all away.. They say it's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all, but that's a lie. Because feeling your love, then losing it, is the worst pain I've ever experienced.”

The air crackled between us, thick with unspoken emotions and the sting of my tears. Mattheo inched closer, his warmth a stark contrast to the turmoil within me. I could feel his breath whisper against my cheek, sending a shiver down my spine.

"Y/N," he pleaded, his voice husky with emotion ."I know you don't believe me," he confessed, his red- eyes searching mine .

“but this feeling... it terrifies me. I've never felt like this before. Never cared about anyone but myself and Enzo . But then you came along. The purest thing I've ever have , the closest I'll ever get to heaven."

His words hung heavy in the air, a stark contrast to the arrogant facade he usually presented.

"I miss you," he continued, his voice raw with longing. "I miss what we had. The way your smile could light up a room, the way your cheeks would flush the prettiest shade of pink ."

He paused, his hand hovering hesitantly near mine. "I can't do this anymore. This game... it's torture. Every stolen glance, every witty banter, it just makes the truth harder to bear. Tell me what you want me to do. Name it, anything. But please, just end this charade. It's killing me “

A tremor ran through him, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of genuine fear in his eyes.

He looked at me for a second, taking a shaky breath. Then, the words tumbled out, raw and unfiltered. "I love you," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm not afraid to say it anymore. I regret not approaching you properly, i regret taking that stupid dare ."

His gaze held mine, desperate for any sign of reciprocation. "You asked if everything between us was a lie," he continued, his voice low. "But listen to me now. You're the truest thing that's ever happened to me. I love you, Y/N. And I can't stand there watching you, knowing I can't hold you. I never wanted to hurt you, And I promise, I'll never let anyone hurt you again"

My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drum solo in the quiet library. Every fiber of my being yearned to believe him, to reach out and melt into his embrace. But the betrayal was still fresh, a gaping wound that pulsed with pain.

"I can't trust you anymore, Mattheo," I choked out, the words a bitter truth. "Even if I want to, I can't. Every word you say feels like another lie. I hate you," I confessed, the words ripping from my throat. "I hate you so much for making me want to forgive you. I hate you because I love you so much."

"Don't cry," he pleaded, his voice thick with a desperate sincerity. "I'll do anything. Just say it, and I'll do it."

The promise hung in the air, tempting and dangerous. I reached up and covered his hand with mine, the warmth seeping into my chilled skin. Despite the storm raging inside me, a small part of me craved the comfort of his touch, the solace of forgiveness.

"Then let me go, Mattheo," I whispered, the words tasting like ashes in my mouth. "Let me go. Don't approach me. Don't try to fix anything. Just let me go."

The pain in his eyes mirrored the turmoil within me. "Is that what you truly want?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

I could only nod, a fresh wave of tears cascading down my face. Every part of me ached to forget the past, to bury my head in his chest and feel the familiar rhythm of his heartbeat. But the betrayal was a wall I couldn't climb over, not yet.

"Then I will do it ,love." He brushed away my tears one last time, his touch lingering for a heartbreaking moment before he took a step back. The pain in his eyes was a something i could never forget.

He gave me one last, lingering look before turning and leaving the library, the heavy oak door closing with a finality that echoed the slamming shut of my own heart. The air hung heavy with unspoken emotions, the weight of my decision pressing down on me.

My revenge, I realized with a bitter pang, tasted worse than Flobberworm milk and phonics tears on cupcakes. But in that moment, I didn't realize that in punishing him, I was condemning myself to an equally excruciating torture

Days bled into weeks, each one stretching out with the agonizing slowness of a Dementor's kiss. What I had envisioned as a sweet victory – Mattheo squirming under the weight of my indifference – felt more like a self-inflicted Cruciatus Curse.

The once-familiar halls of Hogwarts became a minefield of awkward silences and stolen glances. Every corner held the ghost of his laughter, every shadowed alcove whispered echoes of his touch. Avoiding him became a constant, exhausting dance.

In Herbology, Professor Sprout droned on about the magical properties of Bubotuber pus, but all I could focus on was the empty space beside me. It had become a glaring absence, a constant reminder of the warmth that used to be there.

Across the room, I could feel his gaze burning into me. But when I dared to steal a glance, his head would be bent diligently over his textbook, his jaw clenched tight. It was a practiced act of indifference, a mask that mirrored the one I wore.

Lunch in the Great Hall was an ordeal. I'd scan the long Slytherin table, searching for any sign of him. Relief would flood me when I wouldn't see him, only to be replaced by a hollow pang of disappointment.

One day, as I shuffled through the crowded hallway, I felt a presence looming behind me. My heart hammered a frantic tattoo against my ribs. I quickened my pace, clutching my books tighter, willing myself to disappear. But the presence remained, a silent taunt.

Finally, unable to bear the suspense any longer, I chanced a peek over my shoulder. My stomach lurched. It was him, his face a stony mask, his eyes fixed on a point far beyond me. He sidestepped me with practiced ease, not even a flicker of recognition in his gaze.

The charade was relentless. In Potions, Professor Snape's scathing remarks seemed muted compared to the deafening silence between Mattheo and me. We brewed our Draught of Peace with a silent intensity, each movement a calculated act of avoidance.

The whispers started subtly, like the rustle of leaves in a slight breeze. "Did you see them? Not a single word!" one student would murmur to another. Soon, the whispers morphed into open stares, the entire school buzzing with the unspoken tension between us.

It was as if by avoiding each other, we'd created a spectacle far more dramatic than any confrontation could have been. The unspoken longing, the raw emotions hanging heavy in the air – it was a story more captivating than any Quidditch match.

What hurt the most ? I couldn't escape the feeling that everyone else was living their lives, while mine was trapped in this agonizing purgatory of unspoken emotions and a love I couldn't embrace or deny.

The silence between us was deafening, a reminder of the bond we'd shattered. My carefully crafted revenge felt hollow, a Pyrrhic victory that left me as desolate as the empty space beside him. The ache in my chest had little to do with anger and everything to do with a longing I couldn't name.

Then came the worst part. It wasn't just the awkward silences or stolen glances at him interacting with others. It was the way the girls around me perked up, their smiles a bit too wide, their laughter a bit too forced. They saw the distance between Mattheo and me, the void where his presence used to be, as an open invitation.

Professor Sprout's well-meaning attempt to pair us up for a project backfired spectacularly.

Mattheo, his usual smirk replaced by a practiced indifference, meticulously tended to his Venomous Tentacula while I wrestled with a particularly stubborn Flobberworm. The silence between us was thicker than the sap dripping from the Bubotuber pus. We moved with a practiced efficiency, avoiding eye contact, our movements a painful ballet of unspoken hurt and when he was finally done with his part he left without even glancing at me .

Across the room, laughter erupted. A pretty brunette girl, Astoria Greengrass, leaned in conspiratorially towards Mattheo, a giggle escaping her lips. He threw his head back, a genuine smile lighting up his face, a sight that sent a spike of jealousy through me.

My Flobberworm wriggled free, sending a spray of dirt flying. Professor Sprout's raised eyebrow and stern lecture were a welcome distraction from the scene unfolding across the room. The warmth in Mattheo's laughter, the ease with which he interacted with Astoria, was a sharp contrast to the icy distance he maintained with me.

The worst part, however, wasn't the girls themselves. It was the way they looked at me – a mixture of pity and smug satisfaction. Their gazes seemed to say, "See? Now you see what you had and threw away."

Another day, another ordeal. During Charms, a boy from Ravenclaw, Michael Corner, sidled up to me, his voice a steady stream of nervous chatter. He droned on about the upcoming Quidditch match, his words blurring into background noise.

Across the room, I stole a glance at Matteo. He sat slumped in his chair, his gaze fixed on the textbook in front of him. But a flicker of movement caught my eye. His jaw clenched slightly, knuckles turning white as he gripped the book. He didn't turn towards me, didn't acknowledge Michael's presence. It was as if I, and the boy beside me, simply ceased to exist.

A pang of something akin to disappointment shot through me. Was this truly what he’s doing ? erasing me from his memory? The silence between us, once deafening, now felt suffocating. I craved a reaction, anything to break the monotony of our charade.

Days bled into weeks, each one a monotonous echo of the last. Lunch in the Great Hall was an exercise in self-torture. I sat with some girls from my class , their cheery chatter a stark contrast to the turmoil within me.

Across the room, Mattheo sat with a group of Slytherins, his usual arrogance back in place. He spoke in hushed tones, his eyes scanning the room. Did they land on me? I couldn't tell, wouldn't allow myself to hope.

Suddenly, Draco Malfoy sauntered over, a smirk playing on his lips. He leaned in, whispering something in Mattheo's ear, his gaze flickering towards me. A flicker of something – anger, maybe? – crossed Mattheo's face before he schooled his features back into indifference.

Draco's smirk widened, punctuated by a loud laugh. The sound grated on my nerves, a confirmation that he had successfully moved on, leaving me drowning in the wreckage of our broken connection.

The once vibrant halls of Hogwarts had become a constant reminder of what I'd lost. The whispers, the pointed looks, the morbid fascination with our unspoken war – it all felt suffocating. The silence between us, once deafening, now resonated with a profound emptiness.

In my quest for revenge, I had succeeded in destroying not just him, but a part of myself. And as I stared across the Great Hall, the bitter truth settled in – the only thing more unbearable than his betrayal was his indifference.

The ache in my core pulsed with every stolen glance at Matteo. A single, accidental lock of eyes during Charms was all it took to reignite the inferno I'd thought I'd extinguished. The familiar heat bloomed in my cheeks, spreading downwards, a stark reminder of the raw, physical connection we shared.

Driven by an insatiable hunger, I succumbed to temptation, seeking solace in the darkness of night. With trembling hands, I slipped my fingers inside my pants, yearning for the touch of his hands upon my skin. But no matter how fervently I imagined his touch, it was futile, a poor substitute for the real thing.

His absence loomed large in my mind, a constant reminder of the void he had left behind. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as I grappled with the overwhelming sense of loss, longing for the warmth of his embrace.

In the silence of my room, I cried myself to sleep, the weight of my unfulfilled desires weighing heavily upon me. No matter how hard I tried to bury them, the flames of passion continued to burn, fueled by the memory of his touch.

The next day crawled by, each tick of the clock echoing the heavy weight in my chest. Just as I contemplated escaping to the familiar comfort of the Slytherin common room, a familiar figure emerged from the shadows of the deserted hallway – Enzo.

His usual carefree air was replaced by a somberness that mirrored my own. "Y/N," he started hesitantly, his voice uncharacteristically unsure.

"Enzo, hi," I greeted nervously. "Are you... are you alright?"

He paused, his gaze flickering with concern. "I need to talk to you," he finally said, his voice low.

"Sure," I whispered, a nervous smile tugging at my lips.

He gestured towards an empty classroom beside us. We entered, the silence suddenly thick and heavy.

"It's about Mattheo," he began, his voice dropping even lower.

My heart hammered against my ribs,

"What about him?" I managed, my voice barely above a whisper.

Enzo took a deep breath, his gaze flickering with an emotion I couldn't decipher. "He — He has a really dangerous disease Y/N," he blurted out, the words heavy in the quiet hallway.

Enzo's words hit me like a Stunning Spell. My breath caught in my throat, the air suddenly thick with a suffocating weight. Disease? Mattheo? It couldn't be true. The anger that had simmered within me for weeks flickered, threatened by a spark of something else – a flicker of fear, of a terrible, dawning realization.

"Disease?" I choked out, the word barely a whisper.

Enzo nodded. "Serious. He doesn't know how long..." He trailed off, his voice thick with emotion. "But he's getting worse every day. Refused to tell you himself, stubborn git."

Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring Enzo's concerned face. "He never said anything," I choked out, my voice thick with emotion. "He wouldn't even look at me."

Enzo sighed, a deep rumble that spoke of a burden shared. "He's stubborn, that one. Especially when it comes to protecting you “

"But how could he not tell me?" I whispered, my voice barely audible over the pounding of my heart.

"He loves you, Y/N," Enzo said, his voice firm. "More than anything, I swear. I've never seen him care about anyone the way he cares about you. I knew what he did was unforgivable , but his feelings for you… they're real."

A sob escaped my lips, tears blurring my vision. The image of Mattheo, his usual arrogance replaced by vulnerability, echoed in my mind.

"you deserves to know," Enzo said, his gaze unwavering. "Even if you can't forgive him, even if you hate him… you deserve to know the truth."

Tears streamed down my face, a mixture of grief and confusion.

"He'll do anything for you, you know," Enzo continued. "Hiding this… it's killing him. More than the illness itself."

Another sob escaped my lips. The anger, the carefully constructed walls of indifference – it all seemed so petty now, dwarfed by the weight of his illness. All this time, I'd been punishing him, punishing myself, while he…

Panic clawed at my throat. "How bad is it? How long…?" My voice wouldn't form the question.

Enzo shook his head, a grim expression on his face. "I don't know all the details, Y/N. He wouldn't tell me much. But he's getting worse, and by the way there's no cure."

The weight of the revelation pressed down on me. The silent war we waged, the stolen glances filled with unspoken emotions – it all seemed so meaningless now. All I wanted to do was see him, to hold him, to tell him… what?

Looking at Enzo, tears streaming down my face, I whispered, " Where is he?"

Enzo hesitated, then pointed towards the forest . "He's usually there, you know where , trying to clear his head."

"Thank you, Enzo," I croaked, my voice thick with emotion. "For telling me."

Enzo nodded, a hint of a sad smile gracing his lips. "Just… don't let pride get in the way, alright? Talk to him. Figure things out he needs you now more than ever. ." He squeezed my shoulder before turning and leaving me alone with the weight of this revelation.

Enzo's words echoed in my head, each syllable a hammer blow against my chest. Disease. Limited time. The anger, the carefully constructed walls of resentment, all crumbled under the weight of this revelation. Tears blurred my visionI raced through the castle corridors, legs burning, a primal urge driving me forward.

I didn't care about the stares, the confused whispers that followed. I only cared about getting to him , My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs, each beat punctuated by a sob that tore through me.

The familiar path to the Forbidden Forest became a blur. Thorns ripped at my robes, branches snagged at my hair, but I didn't feel them. All I felt was a desperate need to reach him, to hold him.

A sharp sting on my knee brought me back to the present. I looked down to see a crimson stain blooming on my robes, a tear in the fabric revealing a scraped knee. But the pain was a mere whisper compared to the agony twisting in my gut.

The memory of his secret place, fueled my desperate run. It was a sanctuary he'd revealed only to me, Now, it was my beacon, the only place I could imagine him seeking solace in his time of despair.

Bursting through the familiar curtain of trees, I skidded to a halt, chest heaving, tears streaming down my face. My vision swam, but I could just make out the clearing, bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun.

Reaching the clearing, I pushed aside the concealing ivy with trembling hands. The familiar wooden door stood before me, mockingly still. I flung it open, ignoring the groan of rusted hinges.

Pushing the pain aside, I scrambled to my feet, ignoring the blood seeping through my torn robes. The hidden entrance, disguised by a tangle of ivy, materialized before my tear-filled eyes.

With trembling hands, I cleared the vines, pushing through the narrow opening. The familiar scent of earth and damp stone greeted me, a small comfort in the storm raging inside.

Inside the dimly lit chamber, my breath caught in my throat, with my ragged sobs as I stumbled towards the bed. Mattheo peacefully sleeping on , his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.

"Mattheo!" I shrieked, the name a desperate plea that tore through the silence. "Mattheo, wake up!"

He stirred at the sound, his brow furrowing in confusion. His eyes fluttered open, blinking away the remnants of sleep. his eyes widening in shock before softening at the sight of my tear-streaked face,the raw panic radiating from my very being.

"Y/N?" he rasped, his voice weak. "What's wrong? What happened?"

Before he could finish his question, I was on him, collapsing onto the bed in a heap of sobs and frantic whispers

His arms wrapped around me. held me close, his voice a soothing murmur against my ear. " it's okay, love," he whispered, his voice thick with concern. "What happened? Are you hurt? Tell me what's wrong, baby did someone…" he trailed off, his voice hardening with a possessive anger."

The sound of those endearment words, so unexpected after weeks of cold silence, sent a fresh wave of tears cascading down my cheeks.

"Don't cry, love," he murmured, his voice thick with concern. "Tell me what's wrong. Did someone hurt you? Did someone say something?"

His gaze dropped to the injury, "Oh Merlin," he breathed, his voice laced with self-reproach. "How did you… why did you come here like this?"

My voice, when it finally came, was a choked sob. Words tumbled out in a rush, a jumbled mess of emotions. "Enzo… he told me… you're sick… I… I thought…"

Mattheo's brow furrowed further. He reached out, his touch tentative on my arm. "Slow down, love," he murmured. "What did Enzo tell you?"

I took a shaky breath, wiping at the tears blurring my vision. "That you… that you had a dangerous illness… that you didn't have long."

A bewildered frown creased his forehead. illness? What illness ? “

"Don't lie to me, Mattheo," I pleaded, tears welling up again. "He said you were… you were dying."

"Enzo that fucker ," he muttered, shaking his head . "He must have been trying to get us to talk." He let out a dry, humorless laugh, the sound sending a fresh wave of pain through me. "He always did have a dramatic flair."

My entire body tensed. Was he lying? My gaze darted across his face, searching for any sign of truth.

"But Enzo wouldn't lie about something like that," I protested, my voice shaky. "He was so worried. He said you loved me, that I deserved to know."

His arms tightened around me "Well, Enzo got one thing right then,"

"So there's no illness?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Mattheo cupped my face in his hand, wiping away a stray tear with his thumb. "No illness, love. Just a heartbroken fool who did something incredibly stupid." His gaze softened, searching mine. "You believed him?"

Shame burned in my throat. "I… I was scared,"

Mattheo's expression softened. "Scared about me?" he asked gently, his thumb brushing against my cheek in a soothing gesture.

I nodded, unable to meet his gaze as tears threatened to spill over once more.

“you don't have to be scared anymore. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."A wave of relief washed over me as I melted into his embrace, feeling the weight of my fears slowly lift from my shoulders. In his arms

his playful smile fading, replaced by a sharp concern that etched lines on his face his gaze flicked down to my knee

"Oh Merlin," he muttered, kneeling down to examine the wound. A crimson stain was blossoming on my knee .

"It looks worse than it is, probably," I mumbled, trying to sound nonchalant. But the wince I couldn't quite suppress betrayed me.. He knelt beside me, his touch sending a familiar spark through my body despite the circumstances.

"You shouldn't have run like that," he said gently, his voice laced with a hint of disapproval. "Look at you, all bruised and bleeding."

My cheeks burned, not just from the sting of the wounds, but from the unexpected tenderness in his voice. "I… I just needed to see you," I mumbled, looking away.

A soft chuckle escaped his lips. "Well, you certainly made an entrance," he said, a hint of amusement returning to his eyes. But his smile faltered as he focused on my wounds .

"Here, let me get you cleaned up," he said, his voice firm.

He rummaged through the surprisingly well-stocked medical kit hidden in the corner, pulling out vials of glistening potions and bandages. The air filled with the pungent scent of dittany as he carefully cleaned my wounds, his touch surprisingly gentle.

Each swipe of the cloth sent a jolt through me, a confusing mix of pain and a strange kind of pleasure. Shame battled with a newfound hope as I met his gaze. The anger and hurt that had clouded his eyes for weeks were gone, replaced by a warmth that sent a flutter to my stomach.

"There," he said finally, tying the last bandage with a practiced ease. "That should hold for now."

As he pulled back, our eyes met, and for a fleeting moment, the air crackled with unspoken words. The silence between us, once heavy with tension, thrummed with a new energy.

"I'm so sorry for barging in like that," I mumbled, looking away.

"Hey," he said, his voice firm but kind. " You scared the daylights out of me, but I'm glad you're here."

"Do__Do you still care about me?" I blurted out, the question tumbling out before I could stop it. Tears welled up again, threatening to spill over.

Mattheo's eyes widened for a moment, then a flicker of something warm crossed them.

"Like... are you kidding me?" he said, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. "Of course I do."

My heart hammered in my chest. "But I thought..." I trailed off, unsure how to voice the tangled mess of emotions that had been churning inside me.

"You thought I moved on?" he finished, his voice gentle.

I nodded, ashamed of the doubt that had festered for so long.

"I was giving you space," he explained, "the space you said you needed. But believe me, it was killing me."

"Merlin's beard, Y/N. Every time some bloke even glanced your way, I felt like I might hex the lot of them."

My cheeks burned. As I laughed at what he said

his gaze lingering on my lips. "I swear I didn't tell anyone about what you told me that night," he murmured, his voice low and sincere. "I had nothing to do with the play. ,I didn't know they were going to do that I only didn't want you to go because it was connected to the dare and I thought if we just stayed away, it would all blow over."

"I know," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. "Charlie told me."

his messy hair softened by the dim light, his jaw shadowed with a hint of stubble, but his gaze held that same familiar warmth that had always sent butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

He looked so good, so heartbreakingly handsome, a possessiveness rising in my chest. He was mine

I couldn't hold back any longer. With a soft whimper, I closed the gap between us, my lips meeting his in a kiss that was both desperate and tender.

His lips were warm and soft, molding perfectly to mine.The taste of him – a mixture of mint and something uniquely Mattheo – flooded my senses, sending a jolt through my body.

Mattheo responded instantly, pulling me closer until I was practically settling me on his lap , melting into him . His hands slid down my back.

He held me tightly, as if afraid I might disappear, and the urgency in his kiss mirrored my own. It was a hungry kiss, filled with a raw passion that had been simmering beneath the surface for too long.

We explored each other's mouths with a newfound intensity, the taste of him igniting a fire deep within me. Our tongues danced together, a silent conversation filled with unspoken promises and a desperate need for more.

He pulled back slightly, his breath ragged. His eyes, shimmering with desire, held me captive.My own hands tangled in his hair . "I missed you," he rasped, his voice thick with emotion.

The words echoed my own feelings. God, how I'd missed him.

He kissed me again the kiss deepened, a desperate plea for connection after weeks of longing. My hips instinctively swayed against him, seeking a friction that had been absent for too long. The ache in my core, a dull throb that had plagued me, seemed to lessen with each press of my body against his,It felt like a dam had broken, a release after a drought.

But then I felt it – a firmness pressing against my core, a sensation that sent a jolt through my system. It overwhelmed my senses, momentarily drowning the delicious haze of the kiss. As my body brushed against it again, a guttural moan escaped Mattheo's lips. Reality slammed back, and I tore myself away from the kiss, eyes wide with a sudden realization.

"I'm so sorry," I stammered, the words tumbling out in a jumbled mess. "I didn't realize…" my cheeks a fiery red. "Does it hurt you too?"

"Too?"He tilted his head, a playful smile on his face ."What do you mean, baby? What's hurting you?

"I-I just..." I stammered, my cheeks burning like embers. "I don't know... It's just..." Words failed me completely.

His playful smirk deepened the pit in my stomach. "Yeah?" he prompted, his confusion tinged with amusement.

"That would be…" My voice dropped to a barely audible murmur. "That ache, and it won't just go away, no matter what I try."

He chuckled, the sound warm and comforting. "Oh, my love. That sounds awful." He brushed a fallen strand of hair away from my face, his touch sending a fresh wave of heat through me.

"Tell me, love," he whispered, his voice husky with desire, "where does this ache come from?"

before I could confess, a new sensation stole the air from my lungs. His lips, warm and insistent, found my neck again

"Where was that ache coming from, love?" he repeated, his lips soft against my skin, eliciting a moan of pleasure.

"Tell me," he urged, cupping my breast while peppering kisses all over my neck. "I'm still waiting for you to answer me, my love," his voice dominant, commanding my attention.

"It was... down there," I admitted. "It won't go away, no matter what I try," I continued, feeling exposed.

His lips found a sensitive spot behind my ear, sending a jolt of pleasure through me. "And what have you tried to do to make it go away?" he murmured, his voice turning dark .

"I... I tried to do what you did to me before, but I couldn't," I whispered, tears welling in my eyes, their origin unclear. He kissed them away, his lips tender against my skin.

"You tried to touch yourself? Tried to recreate what I did to you? And who were you thinking about while doing it, darling?" he asked, his voice thick with desire.

"You... it was you. I also imagined it was you, but it didn't work," I confessed.

"You're going to be the death of me," he murmured, kissing away the last of my tears. Then he continued, his voice low and seductive, "We need to do something about that then , Would you let me kiss it better?"

Unable to tear my gaze from his, I simply nodded, my voice stolen by the intensity in his eyes.

"Words, love,I need to hear your voice "

"Yes, please," I whispered, the words barely escaping my lips.

The kiss that followed was possessive, a searing claim . When he finally pulled away, his eyes burned with a dark intensity.

"Good," he breathed, his voice thick with desire . "Because I'm going to worship every inch of that beautiful body. Every. Inch. Of. You."

With a tenderness that contrasted with the raw desire in his voice, he gently laid me down on the bed. The plush fabric felt cool against my flushed skin as anticipation coiled in the pit of my stomach.

His fingers brushed against my collarbone as he meticulously unfastened each button of my shirt. His gaze never left mine, the intensity in his eyes sending shivers down my spine.

"That Ravenclaw boy, Michael Corner, what was he telling you?"

His question jolted me back to reality. I blinked, momentarily confused, then recalled, "Oh, right, Michael. He was talking about the next Quidditch match. I didn't know you noticed."

A wry smile played on his lips. "Oh, believe me, I did," he said, his voice a low rumble. "Every. Single. Second. Especially when his eyes kept flickering back over here."

His gaze dropped pointedly to the space where my shirt now hung open, and a blush crept up my neck.

"Believe me," he whispered,"my eyes were on you the entire time."

Heat pulsed through me as his kisses trailed down my neck, each one a spark igniting a fire within. I squeezed my eyes shut, a strangled moan caught in my throat. Nervous flutters danced in my stomach, a foreign sensation that both scared and thrilled me.

A gasp ripped through me as Matteo's cool fingers dipped beneath my skirt. My skin, flushed from his heated kisses, sent a jolt of contrasting sensation against his touch. It was a delicious shock, leaving me breathless.

"Hey," he murmured, voice laced with concern as he immediately stopped, his brows furrowing. "Is this okay? Do you want me to…"

He began to retract his hand, but before he could fully pull away, I reached out, my fingers blindly grasping at his . "No," I mumbled, the word barely a whisper. My voice betrayed me, shaky and breathless. Why did this simple touch feel so earth-shattering?

"No," I repeated, a little firmer this time, gathering my courage. "I mean, yes. This is… I want that." The last few words tumbled out in a rush, so quiet I wasn't sure if he even heard them.

I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to meet his gaze. I could almost picture the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips

A blush crept up my neck as his voice rumbled in my ear, a promise laced with concern. "If you feel uncomfortable at any point, love, just say the word. I want this to be good for you." His touch lingered on my bare skin, a burning ember against my suddenly chilled flesh.

The sincerity in his voice calmed the knot of nerves twisting in my stomach. I knew he wouldn't push me further than I was ready. Taking a deep breath, I met his gaze, my own desire reflected back in his warm brown eyes.

"I trust you," I whispered, the words a shaky promise.

A slow smile spread across his face, lighting up his features like the sunrise.

The brush of his fingers against the fabric of my bra sent a jolt through me. He paused, his eyes searching mine once more, a silent question hanging in the air.

This time, my response was a small, barely-there nod. It was a hesitant surrender, an invitation whispered on a breath. A satisfied glint sparked in his eyes before he continued his exploration, his touch sending shivers dancing across my skin.

Matteo's fingers grazed the clasp of my bra. The touch was a spark that ignited a fire within me, a rush of adrenaline coursing through my veins. Instinctively, my fingers tangled themselves in his hair . He dipped his head, his lips trailing a warm path down my neck before finding a sensitive spot on my chest. A soft moan escaped my lips as he teased the nipple

My back arched involuntarily, a silent plea for him to continue. I tugged on his hair, not wanting him to stop, not wanting this exquisite feeling to end.

"Does that feel good, love?" he murmured against my skin, his voice husky with desire.

"Yes," I breathed, the word barely a whisper lost in the symphony of sensations swirling around me. My eyelids fluttered shut, the world dissolving into a haze of touch and taste, the touch of his skin and the warmth of his breath. Everything else faded away .

Moving to my other nipple giving it the same attention .My fingers instinctively tangled themselves in his hair.

A wave of heat washed over me as Matteo's hand brushed against the hem of my skirt soft sigh escaped his lips as his gaze drifted to my soaked panties .

“I’ve wanted this for such a long time, you have no idea,” he murmured, sucking on the skin of my inner thighs as my hands fisted the bedsheets.

“Please,” I begged, feeling no embarrassment about how desperate I sounded. As soon as he began to suck on my clit, all my worries began to vanish. Profane words spilled from my mouth as Matteo took his sweet time with me.

"Merlin, oh, I—" It seemed as if I couldn’t control my mouth any longer; my instincts took over. I knew that I was ready; I wanted him, all of him.

“Relax, baby, I’ve got you,” his eyes were pitch black by now pupils were dilated, a dark reflection of the desire .

A loving smile playing on his lips as he slowly inserted a finger into me. It still felt strange to me, a sensation I hadn't quite grown accustomed to yet. I was tight around his fingers, but my moans urged him on. Adding another finger, he alternated between sucking, licking, then repeating, drawing me closer to my release,a mind-blowing orgasm that I’d never forget.

My stomach clenched, a tight knot forming as a foreign heat bloomed in my core. Blood roared in my ears, drowning out everything except his voice and the frantic pounding of my heart. My head arched back against the pillow, muscles involuntarily tightening around his fingers.

" good girl , Come for me, love,"

A guttural moan escaped my lips as pleasure surged through me, a wave cresting and crashing in a series of shivers. "Mattheo," I breathed, his name a desperate prayer repeated again and again.

"That’s fucking right, love ." he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. "Say my name,no one else says my name quite like you do. It's a sound I desperately missed."

His words fueled the fire within me, and I surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure, clinging to him as the wave crested and receded. Exhausted but exhilarated, I opened my eyes to find his gaze locked on mine.

A slow smile tugged at his lips as he brushed a kiss across my flushed cheek. The touch ignited a spark within me, and I reached out, my fingers curling around his hand. With a newfound boldness, I drew him closer, our lips meeting in a kiss that spoke volumes.

"I want you Mattheo all of you ," I whispered against his lips, with newfound confidence.

His gaze held mine for a beat, searching for any flicker of hesitation. He saw none, only a reflection of the desire burning brightly in his own eyes.

"Are you absolutely sure, love?" he asked.

"Absolutely sure just be gentle ," I breathed against his lips, the words leaving no room for doubt.

He undressed himself slowly, his eyes never leaving my form. I couldn't help but admire the contours of his body as he revealed each inch of his skin. My fingers tingled with anticipation, and I reached out to trace the lines of his sculpted six-pack, feeling the firmness beneath my touch. His muscles rippled under my fingertips.

My apprehension grew as I looked at his length, my mind swirling with doubts and desires. " will it hurt?" I asked, my voice betraying my fear and curiosity. I couldn't shake the nagging thought of how he would fit inside me.

"I won’t do anything to hurt you. I'll be gentle with you, okay?"he reassured me, his words soothing my nerves.

“Is that gonna fit?”

“I’ll make it fit.” He kissed a trail down the valley between my breasts, his lips igniting a flame against my skin. Each touch sent a surge of heat through me, anticipation building with every passing second.

He ran the tip of his hardness through my wet folds agonizingly slowly, each touch sending shivers of pleasure coursing through my body. I could feel myself throbbing with need as he coated himself with my slickness, the sensation almost overwhelming. Gasping for breath, I reached out for his free hand holding it , needing the connection to ground me amidst the whirlwind of sensation.

“Breathe for me, baby,” Matteo murmured, his voice laced with tenderness and desire. "Keep your eyes on me. Let me see those pretty eyes."

A sharp hiss escaped my lips as he slowly began to push into me, each inch stretching my muscles as they accommodated his girth. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, a combination of pleasure and slight discomfort mingling together. , his lips pressing tender kisses against my cheeks wiped away the tears .

As he started to roll his hips, a slow and steady rhythm, the initial discomfort gave way to a rush of pleasure that flooded my senses. Each movement sent waves of sensation coursing through me, building the intensity of our connection with every thrust.

It didn't take me long to get used to the new sensation; my cries turned into moans, loud moans, my nails clawed at his back as he picked up his speed. "You're doing so well my love '." He kept on praising me as I clenched around his length.

“Good girl," . His thumb continued to circle my pulsing clit, sending electric shocks of pleasure through me. Mattheo buried his head in my neck, inhaling my scent as he listened to the rhythm of our bodies moving together. "God, you feel so good, like a fucking dream. I'll never get enough of you," he whispered against my skin, his words sending shivers down my spine.

As I looked down, the sight of our bodies connected together made me moan even louder. I couldn't help but notice the drips of blood on his dick as he moved, a stark reminder of our primal connection.

"I love you, Mattheo. I'm sorry it took me so long to say it, but I do love you more than life itself," I breathed out between heavy moans, my confession hanging in the air like a promise. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I pulled him closer, desperate for more of him.

"Fucking hell, love, are you trying to kill me?" he sucked on my neck, pushing me over the edge for the second time that evening. The feeling exploded in my belly, my moans urging him closer to his own release. Still, I continued to clench around him, my body writhing with pleasure as he rode me through the bliss. His cock twitched inside of me, warmth spreading through me as he released himself inside of me.

I was on birth control pills my mother had made me take them since I turned eighteen, but in that moment, nothing else mattered but the overwhelming sensation of love and desire coursing through my veins.

“ Holy shit,Never thought I could love someone this much. What are you doing to me ?“

"Not even Astoria Greengrass?" I teased, unable to resist bringing that up .

"Don’t you dare bring another woman’s name up while my dick is still inside you," he retorted, his tone playful yet possessive.

I chuckled, cupping his face to kiss him passionately. His response was equally fervent, but a moan escaped my lips as I felt him getting out off me .

Surveying the aftermath, I couldn't help but feel a mix of pleasure and soreness. "I think I've lost my ability to walk," I joked.

"yeah ?" he teased back, laying down beside me. His fingers gently traced patterns in my hair as he leaned in to kiss my forehead with tenderness.

"I will never, ever do anything to hurt you again," he vowed softly.

Smiling softly, I whispered, "I know," before meeting his lips in another kiss.

He broke the kiss with a chuckle" I owes Enzo big time, huh? Best brother of the year?"

I laughed, feeling the exhaustion starting to set in.

"still ,but he'll pay for frightening you like that. Now, how about I take care of you first ?" I nodded, too tired to speak.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅

BONUS SCENE.

We re-entered the castle, his hand never leaving mine. It wasn't a casual hold, but a tight clasp, his fingers weaving between mine like a declaration

Suddenly, Matteo stopped short, his eyes widening in surprise. Following his gaze, I spotted a familiar tall figure with kind eyes and a warm smile – Uncle Ben! My jaw dropped. What was he doing here?

“Look who it is! Isn't that my favorite niece?"

"Uncle Ben? What are you doing here?"

"Ah," he chuckled, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "Professor Flitwick requested a little assistance with a... well, let's just say a certain magical artifact has gotten a bit out of sorts. Seems my expertise is needed to tame the beast, Thought I'd surprise you , and pop in to see how things are going at Hogwarts"

My jaw nearly hit the floor,how things are going at Hogwarts ? Well uncle…

“ this young man was keeping my company , Enzo, wasn't it?", his voice laced with amusement as he gestured towards Enzo.

"The one and only," Enzo confirmed with a wide grin, throwing in another wink for good measure.

My stomach lurched as Uncle Ben's gaze darted down to our hands, still subtly intertwined. The air crackled with sudden tension , his eyes darted from me to Mattheo, lingering a beat too long on the hand that still rested possessively on mine.

"Riddle Jr., isn't he?" he boomed, his jovial demeanor replaced with a mixture of surprise and something akin to panic.

My mind raced, desperately searching for an explanation. "Uncle Ben, it's —" I began, only to be cut off by his frantic question.

" you're not pregnant, right?" he blurted, his voice dropping to a panicked whisper.

My jaw dropped. Enzo choked on a laugh, shooting a helpless glance towards Mattheo, who seemed to be suppressing a smirk.

“you're holding hands! "

Enzo clapped Uncle Ben on the shoulder, his voice booming with forced cheer. "Come on, Ben! Let's not jump to conclusions. They're just kids, figuring things out."

My uncle's expression remained skeptical. He shifted his gaze to Matteo, a guarded look replacing the initial shock. " Riddle Jr. here," he began, his voice tight. "What exactly are your intentions towards y/n ?"

Matteo met Uncle Ben's gaze head-on, his posture unwavering. "Sir," he said, his voice low and sincere. "I deeply regret the way things ended between y/n and me. I know I hurt her, and for that, I'll never forgive myself. However, I care for her a great deal, and I would never do anything to intentionally cause her pain again." His eyes flickered to me briefly, a flicker of something warm passing between us. "All I want is a chance to prove myself worthy of her trust."

"Uncle Ben, I trust Mattheo. We'll take things slow, and I promise to be careful."

"Wow, you two look positively radiant. Blindingly so, actually. Sunglasses anyone?”enzo said wrapping his hands around my uncle shoulders.

Our synchronized eye rolls at his comment were enough to power the entire castle for a week. He held his hands up defensively, a playful grin plastered across his face while murmuring, "I'm still your brother, don't kill me," to Mattheo.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅

Tag list :

@avee-wavee @lovelyygirl8 @lovelyypythoness @timmychalametsstuff

#slytherin boys x you #slytherin boys #mattheo smut #slytherin boys x reader #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle imagines #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle #mattheoxreader #mattheo riddle masterlist #mattheo riddle angst #smut #slytherin #lorenzo berkshire imagine #fluff imagines #mattheoriddle

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spookykoolkat · 7 months

Text

kinktober | grateful - j.m.

kinktober day nine - cockwarming

pairing: joel miller x plus size!reader

wc: 2.17k

summary: being joel's girlfriend meant you saw sides of him no one else ever saw. one of them was how he just loved to be in your presence, to feel you, to touch you — to be buried inside of you.

warnings: 18+ ONLY!!! MINORS ARE NOT WELCOMED!!! NO AGE = BLOCKED. mentions of violence and sexual violence *if you blink you will miss it it's not a main theme!*, mentions if blood, dirty talk, p in v, cockwarming, slight somno.

an: gosh im so behind on this but i WILL catch up. i have a concert tmrw im very excited! also this one is very short, but i still love it 🥹

reblogs, likes & comments are so very appreciated i love u guys 🥹

⛧°｡⋆༺♱༻⋆｡°⛧ °｡⋆༺♱༻⋆｡°⛧°｡⋆༺♱༻⋆｡°⛧°｡⋆༺♱༻⋆｡°⛧

YOU DIDN'T KNOW WHAT it meant to be in a relationship – with joel. somehow, years after you got lost with the group you’d traveled with for months, you ended up in the midst of a bunch of men on horses pointing their guns at you.

one of them being joel, and his brother. you were cut up, bloodied and bruised, in the freezing winter with hardly anything on. you remembered looking around you at the men that circled you, your hands raised but just barely because you had a stab wound on your left shoulder, crying.

“please, i, i can leave just, please don’t kill me, i’ll go,” you cried frantically.

every thought was going through your mind right now. you were half naked, shivering and near frostbite basically, the only thing warming you up would be the blood pouring from your wounds. there were only two things that could happen.

they’ll trap you, have their way with you, then leave you for dead. or, they shoot you because they think you’re infected.

“please don’t hurt me, i’m, i’m not infected, i swear.” you sobbed, looking down at your knees that felt numb being buried in the snow.

you heard a shuffle, then something hit the floor, and the crunch of snow under a pair of boots. until you saw them right in front of you, and the person lowered themselves down to your height.

the man tilted your chin up with his glove-covered fingers, and made you look at him.

“you ain’t got nothin’ to be scared of, come on, we’ll get ya some clothes,”

and that was it. joel was the one who kept you away from the men that stared you down like a piece of meat that day, he kept you away from tommy, who kept telling him it was a bad idea. but quickly referenced when he and ellie came into town, and they took them in like nothing.

he kept you safe. and he let you stay with him for the time being, until you managed to find a job down at the local bar. then, the two of you kind of went your separate ways. you found a little house at the corner that tommy told joel to give you, and managed to live by yourself for the year you were there.

joel didn’t want you on patrol routes, or to forage for things that the town needed. he needed you safe, even when he wasn’t there.

you hadn’t talked to joel, but he managed to come to the tipsy bison every friday, sitting at the bar by himself and watching you.

“you know,” you start as you are cleaning the beer glasses and wiping down the sticky table after closing. joel was the only one still there.

“you come here every friday, ever since i started working here, but everyone i’ve ever heard from tells me you like to drink alone. in the comfort of your own house,” you said, wiping the bar down in front of him.

“jus’ makin’ sure you ain’t in no trouble over here,” he mumbled behind his last drink, downing the rest of the mahogany liquid. he did a subtle look down your shirt as you wiped the bar down in circles, watching your cleavage come into view.

you just chuckled. “i think i’ll be okay. i promise you’ll be the first one i go to if i need help.”

that made a small smile tug on his lips.

“let me walk ya home,”

so he did. except he didn’t leave after that. that night, the two of you drank a little more at your place, and things got a little heated. in the midst of stretching you out for the very first time, he was whispering things you would’ve claimed were little nothings, but seemed as if he was declaring his need for you.

“fuck baby, tell me, whose pussy is this? who else is stretchin’ ya out like this?”

“pretty fuckin’ girl, i swear i’ll fuckin’ kill for ya, won’t let nobody come near ya,”

“you ain’t leavin’ me, darlin’. this pussy is fuckin’ mine,”

and you never did, and he always kept his promise. four years later, after him being the one to fix your wounds and give you clothes, a place to stay — you lived with him. ellie ended up being able to take patrol routes occasionally, moving into a small house with dina. she was even glad he had someone to look after him, to take care of him as he cared for everyone.

joel had just came in towards the end of the night from patrolling with tommy, mumbling about how he’s sort of an idiot. you could barely hear his banter from your bedroom, ears perking up at the sound of the door opening and slamming closed.

“baby?” you called out from the bedroom as he walked to the kitchen and grabbed himself a beer. his eyes searched for you in the darkness of the living room, until he ended up walking to the back hall to the room you both slept in.

his face softened, giving a little smile as he walked over to you and plopped on the bed next to you. the force almost made you drop the book you were reading, so you dog-eared the page and put it on the table as you turned to curl into him.

“you smell like outside,” you said as you crinkled your nose.

“fuckin’ tommy, stressin’ me out. he wanted t’ stay longer for maria just in case but it was a fuckin’ ghost town, nothin’ was even there, but he’s fuckin’ stubborn.”

you just sighed and let your face rest on his chest as his arm threw over behind you, rubbing the side of your body. “well, you’re home now.”

he sighed, taking a swig from the beer and moved to put it on the bedside table. he just threw his head back, used his forearm to cover his eyes and breathe in and out. you just looked at him, a little empathetic.

you started to kiss his chest, the one with the dirty shirt he wore to patrol and up his body, to his neck and jaw. with the movements, you swiftly swung your leg over one side and straddled him, making his arm move and his head tilting down to get a look at you.

you just watched him, watching you, and smiled as you sat directly on his groin.

“i know you’re stressed, but,” you started and rubbed over his tummy and pecs, “i need you.”

you said with lust in your eyes, and he just smirked as he watched you reach under his shirt to feel the warmth of his body.

“my baby needs me, ‘s that right?” he asked lowly, his voice sounding raspy and gruff. his hands rested on the width of your hips, loving the way you were so curvy and plush for him.

you just nodded, and moved to where you could unbuckle his pants and try to shimmy them down with his help. after you got his pants and boxers to his knees, you spit in your hand and gripped the shaft of his half hard cock.

“i love you,” you said as you started to feel him harden in your hands, his own hands moving to the tank top you had on and yanking the fabric down to see your breasts.

“you know i love you, baby,” he said and reached to play with your heavy breasts, tugging your nipple and playing with both of them so he could watch them peak.

“i’m just real tired, honey,” he started as he felt your grip on his cock soften, and watched your face turn with disappointment until he grabbed your face and made you look at him.

“you wanna help me out, darlin’?” he asked and you nodded with your eyebrows furrowed, “alright then, come lay down right here,”

he patted the side of the bed that you slept on, and you let go of his cock before pouting and sliding down to the side next to him. you faced the opposite direction, facing the wall as you heard him get up and start taking all of his clothes off before sliding under the blankets with you.

“you’re so fuckin’ pretty, baby, such a pretty fuckin’ pussy you have,” he said in your ear as he pulled you flush to his back, gripping your asscheeks before pulling one cheek apart from the other, feeling the wetness you gathered at your cunt.

“always so wet f’ me, always so good to me,” he breathed on your neck. he felt your legs move apart so he’d have more access, and he just smiled, kissing on your shoulder.

you didn’t know what he was planning on doing until you felt him guide the tip of his fully hard length up and down your cunt, still using one hand to move the thickness of your ass so he’d have access to your juices.

“joel,” you whined and moved your hips back to his, and finally felt his tip slip inside of you.

“please,” you begged as he stretched you completely, feeling full even as he’s halfway.

he lifts the blankets to watch you take him from behind, watching how his cock the was lathered with your juices as he thrusts softly into you before he bottoms out completely.

but he doesn’t move, and instead kisses on your shoulder before going to your back, kissing there and wrapping his arm around your waist to rest on the fat of your tummy.

“wait, joel i-” you started before he just squeezed your breast, leaving his hand to rest there.

“mm-mm, we’re goin’ to sleep,” he said, but the feeling of his cock being buried inside of you was too distracting. you couldn’t sleep.

“but joel,” you whined, your hand resting on top of his as you felt the heat of his breath against your neck.

“go to sleep, i promise i’ll give you want you want baby, jus’ let me feel you like this, yeah?” he asks and you involuntarily moan a little, your movements of trying to fuck back on his cock failing.

“i love feelin’ you like this, sweet girl. could be buried in this fuckin’ cunt for years,” he whispered as he squeezed your tit again, “you fit me so fuckin’ perfectly,”

“i love when you fill me up, joel,” you whispered ss you hugged his arm, leaving kisses on it and making joel smile against your skin.

“aw, my baby, loves when i just keep you on my cock, just so i can feel you. love when you keep me warm inside that little fuckin’ cunt,” he growled and you whined, trying to squirm and get some movement in.

he just holds you tight, not letting you move. the feeling of his cock filling you to the brim made your cunt clench, and he groaned at the feeling. you felt like you were suffocating, practically feeling his cock in your throat as he just laid there behind you and kissed your skin.

“go to sleep, baby. i promise i’ll make ya cum over n’ over til’ i gotta leave,” he said, and your heart skipped a beat at the proposition.you knew he was telling the truth, because he’s done it before.

he’s made you soak the sheets before it even hit six in the morning, pulling orgasm after orgasm from you and ravishing in it. the best thing he could ever do with his time is watch you fall apart because of him, and make you feel good.

so, you fell asleep with him still inside of you, feeling the dull throb of his cock and your cunt mixed together, the feeling of when he would move to pull you closer because he slipped out of you a little bit.

he craved you, even in his sleep.

and the next morning when he woke up, he was still buried inside of you and looked at where you two connected, seeing the pool of your arousal leaking onto him, and on the bed.

so he kept his promise, and used the newfound arousal you built up to slide out of you, and slide right back in. until you woke up, and tightened on his cock as he fucked you awake.

joel was obsessed with you, and that meant if he could have you sitting on his cock while he did his day to day things, he would. and he’s tried. but feeling you soak him, squeeze him and cry out for him made him feel a whole other type of gratefulness.

you were grateful he was the one that took you in, he was the one that cared for you and protected you, and he was grateful that you let him walk you home that night, grateful that you only trusted him and not anyone else.

TAGLIST

@awilderi @nerdieforpedro @cyb3rluvvxx @joelmillers-girl @pedritoferg @bethanymccauley @dirtydianaahah

let me know if u would like to be added to the taglist!

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florencemtrash · 5 months

Text

Heads Will Roll | Azriel x Reader Oneshot

Warnings: Violence (aka Reader kills some fae and Rhysand and Azriel are 100% cool with it), fluff

One of Koschei's followers turns up to the Court of Nightmares prepared to make a bargain: your life in exchange for Ataraxia. But he'll soon learn that you are not to be underestimated, and you are always exactly where you want to be.

Azriel bristled from behind Feyre’s shoulder when the male winnowed into the Court of Nightmares in a dramatic display of power that had everyone beneath the dais falling back.

He was all sharp lines, emboldened by the pure black silhouette of his cape that flared out behind him, teasingly parting to reveal the bone white sword strapped to his right hip that seemed to whisper with horrible power. The only piece of him that didn’t look like it was cut from death and destruction were his bright blue eyes - startlingly innocent and all the more unnerving for it. He fit in well with the violence the Court of Nightmares naturally radiated.

Rhysand’s eyebrow curled up in a look of carefully crafted boredom from atop his obsidian throne. The only one who looked more nonchalant than him was Feyre. She tilted her head up, staring down the slant of her nose to the unknown male as he extended his arms and bowed as prettily as a bird.

“Greetings.” Even his voice was sharp and cutting. “To the Lord and Lady.”

Cassian frowned from behind Rhysand’s back at the omission of their proper title. To the outside, Rhysand was anything if not bored. Inside, he was ready to blow the male to bits. He wore Koschei’s stamp on his forehead, red and dripping like a fresh wound.

Neither the High Lord nor the High Lady deigned to reply.

The male only smiled. All teeth.

“I come to you on behalf of my master.” His smile grew. More teeth. “You may have heard his name.”

“Koschei.” The name rolled off Feyre’s lips as easily as if she were ordering a meal - blasé and unimportant. But the name shifted the energy in the room, stirring up hornet's nests of gossip. Heads bowed towards one another like grass stalks in the wind, whispering.

Feyre tapped one finger on her forehead, “He has a fondness for marking his followers.”

“Like a collar on a dog.” Rhysand finished. He stroked the bond, grounded by the feeling of Feyre’s very soul on the other side. She had always been - and always would be - his calm.

“My name is Darwynn.” The male tipped his white head, “And I bring news from my master. News you may find worthy of your time.”

Azriel’s heart picked up in his chest.

He knew what was coming - the words that would soon slip out of Darwynn’s mouth. You’d been gone for over a week and he felt your absence from his side as intensely as if someone had ripped the wings from his back. Empty, cold, and unbalanced.

For the first three days he hadn’t worried, even as the bond lay dormant in his chest. It wasn’t uncommon for you to hunt after secrets, unraveling mysteries like threads in a coat or diving into the unknown with an insatiable appetite.

Three days were nothing. But nine days was getting to be concerning.

“Go on.” Feyre said with a wave of her hand, looking more interested in the glass of wine in her hand than anything else.

Darwynn reached into his pocket and pulled out a thin string of silver stained with blood - a necklace crafted from unbreakable metal with a deep blue pendant swaying like a pendulum. It was a piece of one of Azriel’s siphons, imbued with a small measure of his power and given to you as a Solstice gift after you’d accepted the bond. In the twenty years you’d been together, you’d never once taken it off. It was unnatural to see it swinging in the cruel male's hands.

Cassian growled. Azriel’s jaw clenched, beautiful brows lifting only ever so slightly in surprise. It was the only expression the Shadowsinger had shown all night.

Rhysand mirrored his expression. “Ahhhh yes, my sister. How long has she been missing for now, Az?” Rhysand looked back at him, some unspoken agreement passing through that brief glance. If this male had truly captured you, he would not be leaving this room with his head still on his shoulders.

“Nine days.” The Shadowsinger said, his mouth twitching to the side in a cryptic mix of a smirk and a snarl.

“You have her.” Feyre said. It wasn’t a question.

Darwynn’s eyes lit up with glee and he nodded, clapping his hands together like a child opening birthday presents.

“And what do you want for her? That is why you are here, is it not?” Feyre said once his “applause” ended.

Darwynn shook his finger at her, “It is comforting to know that since Amarantha’s trials, you’ve learned to - how shall I say this? Read between the lines.”

“Careful.” Rhysand said, a warning trapped within that honey-laced word. Feyre’s illiteracy was hardly a concern for anyone anymore - Rhysand had seen to that - but that didn’t mean it wasn’t a subject that smarted and burned when prodded.

Feyre’s dark red lips only turned up in a small smirk. Her mate would not allow any harm to befall her - even insults from pathetic creatures such as Darwynn.

"But I digress." Darwynn said silkily, “You should know she is uninjured-”

“Obviously,” Cassian huffed under his breath, stealing a glance at his brother beside him. Azriel was handling this surprisingly well. If it were Nesta who’d been kidnapped and held for ransom, Cassian would not be able to school his emotions so readily.

“And my master would like to make a trade.”

“A trade?” Rhysand said, displaying more interest in the subject than ever before. This was an opportunity to play Koschei’s hand. To gain whatever knowledge they could from the slippery sorcerer who was gaining more momentum each passing day. Koschei was still confined to his lake on the continent, but that didn’t mean he was powerless. No, not at all.

Darwynn pointed a knowing finger at Rhysand’s belt where Ataraxia rested as silent as the death that hung over a deep winter’s night.

“I see.” Rhysand said.

So that’s what he wants. Feyre spoke to him through the bond, Some trace of Nesta’s power.

Y/n was right. He wants to leave the lake.

And he needs whatever power Nesta took from the Cauldron to do it.

Rhys hummed in thought, one finger lazily tracing the edge of his drink. He knew his sister, knew the power that raced through her veins, and she was not one to be trifled with. But people loved to underestimate her - the poor second child too weak and damaged to fight after losing her wings to the old High Lord of Spring. The female who rested on her brother’s strength and crown like a sapling tied to a stake. She wielded those assumptions carefully. It was perhaps one of her greatest weapons.

Nine days. She’d been gone for nine days. Nine days since he’d sent her on a mission to the continent to spy on Koschei’s followers. Six days since anyone had heard from her. Three days since her scheduled return.

Azriel stiffened and blinked - a movement so subtle that only Rhys, Cass, and Feyre noticed. All at once the tension left Rhysand's shoulders. Such a reaction from Az could only mean one thing - you'd arrived.

Rhysand clicked his tongue disapprovingly, taking a deep draught of his wine and muttered, “She’s late.”

“She likes to be thorough.” Azriel said with the smallest of smiles.

“Even so. I don’t like to be kept waiting. She could’ve been captured sooner. Escaped earlier. Given us notice that she was coming.” He shook his raven black hair.

Azriel smirked, feeling the strength of the bond in his chest. Never wavering, “Maybe she finally decided to adopt your flair for the dramatic.” His golden hazel eyes flickered upward for the briefest of moments and you flashed him a quick smile from where you hid in the mountain rock above.

You’d only just opened your side of the bond, love and reassurance rolling over him like a flood. You were safe. You were whole. And you had carried out your plan beautifully.

Sorry to keep you waiting, my love. I had business to attend to. You spoke to your mate and only him.

I'd wait forever for you. You know that.

He felt your laughter through the bond like the fresh rain.

Who would've guessed the Spymaster's such a romantic.

Only for you. Only for you.

Darwynn narrowed his eyes, lips flattening into a thin line as pale as the moon. Something had changed in the air and he couldn't put his finger on it. This wasn’t the reaction he’d been expecting. He knew the Inner Circle were practiced in hiding their emotions but this… they almost looked pleased. Cassian especially was grinning like a madman, suppressing his laughter as Rhysand sent his thoughts to his mind.

“My master keeps good on his promises. But until you give me the bade, I can’t promise you what pieces of your wife there will be left to bring back.” Darwynn snarled, even as that feeling of dread grew in his stomach. He’d walked in here so confident. He needed to regain that confidence. He relaxed his shoulders. Stood up taller.

A wet thud echoed throughout the hall. Someone screamed - a female with blue-gray skin reeled backward, one hand clamped over her mouth in horror as she tripped over her blood-splattered silks.

A decapitated head - warm, oozing, and less than a day old - lolled on the floor. Its eyes were frozen in a look of surprised horror.

Darwynn’s heart stuttered to a stop when he recognized the bloated and bruised face. The face of one of his strongest males, left behind on the continent to watch over Koschei’s prison.

Rhysand smirked and raised his wine glass towards Darwynn. The High Lord’s power flooded out over the room, knitting together a powerful web of magic that made it impossible for anyone to winnow in or out. Except for you of course - his darling sister who never failed to find the weak points in his magic and slip through as slyly as a cat.

“There’s something you should know about my dear sister.” Rhysand’s voice boomed over the near-silent room without even trying.

A second head dropped from the ceiling. Then a third. Then a fourth. Laid out in a neat little arc around Darwynn.

“She never gets caught. She is always precisely where she wants to be.”

Azriel’s eyes were trained on the slate gray arches overheard where he could just barely make out your form as you winnowed around the room, hiding in the shadows and dropping your gruesome packages in a neat circle around Darwynn’s shaking form.

The male unsheathed his sword, spinning around madly and counting every thud until all twelve of your guards were accounted for.

All dead.

All of them.

He growled dangerously, eyes beginning to glow a brilliant, icy blue as he aimed his power at the dais, right towards Rhysand. Azriel smiled with cruel satisfaction when you slipped out from behind Darwynn’s silhouette, bloodied and menacing. The knife glinted in the faelight, catching the curve of your arm as you spun around and drove the weapon through Darwynn’s eye. The light wrapping around him fizzled out into anything.

The male rocked on his feet, arms going slack and dropping the sword with a clatter on the ground. His legs gave out soon after, his body crumpling in on itself as easily as paper.

You calmly rolled down the sleeves of your blood-soaked shirt, flicking a piece of gore off your shoulder in a manner so similar to Rhysand that your brother couldn't help but chuckle.

You flashed him a grin - a stroke of white brushed across a red splattered canvas.

“Brother.” You said, tipping your chin up in a show of greeting.

“A bit dramatic, don’t you think, sister?” Rhysand gestured out to the Court of Nightmares. You spared them a look. Everyone looked positively sinful in their scraps of silk and exposed skin, silent and trembling as their dinners burned their way up from their stomachs to their throats.

You shrugged and winked at Rhys, “I learned from the best.”

“Go get cleaned up.” He said. It was a clear and direct command, but you didn’t miss the warmth and hint of pride in his voice.

“As my High Lord commands.” You said, bowing deeply.

At home. Rhysand spoke in your mind as you straightened. Get some rest. You did well.

You sighed in relief, happy that you would be free from whatever Court of Nightmare business left to attend to.

Thank you.

There was a brief pause before Rhysand continued, But next time you plan to get kidnapped, let me know. I was actually starting to worry and I’m not sure my old heart can take it.

You snorted, I’ll keep your elderly constitution in mind next time.

You dipped your head once more before winnowing to the River House. The smell of home nearly knocked you off your feet.

There would be more time to joke around with your brother - more time to tell him everything you’d learned - but right now you were in desperate need of a bath.

______________

You sank into your third bath of the night, groaning in pleasure as the hot water rolled over your aching muscles. The first two baths had purely functioned to scrub off the dried blood from your hair and skin. The majority of it wasn’t yours. But this bath, with all the fragrant oils and scents, was for enjoyment and relaxation.

It was no easy business getting kidnapped, and no easy business escaping. But like every other mission, you’d made away like a bandit in the night, carrying with you priceless pieces of knowledge and enough secrets to demolish an entire court.

Your eyes flickered open at the feeling of shadows lacing around your arms, soothing your skin with a cool touch that was no replacement for the hands that followed.

Finally your mate had decided to join you.

You sighed in happiness as Azriel trailed his fingers up your arms, scarred hands landing at your neck and gently tilting your head back so he could plant a firm kiss on your lips.

The bond sang within your chest more joyfully than a songbird. You didn’t like silencing this connection, you didn’t like shutting Azriel out, but sometimes your work necessitated it. It was for your safety as much as his. But no one understood that more than the Spymaster of the Night Court.

“Hello, my love.” Azriel’s voice vibrated through the air, warming your chest and shaking your bones.

“Hello, Azriel.” You murmured, soapy hands trailing through his raven black hair so that he was completely surrounded by your scent.

“Gods, I missed you.” He said. He knelt on the tiled floor behind you, wrapping his arms around your bare chest as he buried his face in your neck and breathed you in. “I missed you so much." A kiss on your neck, "So, so much.”

“I missed you too.” You murmured, pulling him around to the side of the tub so that you could see him better. You traced the faint purple bruises beneath his eyes. Not an unfamiliar sight. Azriel had never been a restful sleeper, but since mating and marrying you, he’d been spoiled rotten and now could barely sleep a wink without you curled up in his arms.

“Sorry I messed up your hair.” You apologized, twirling the now damp strands of his hair so they curled around your fingers.

He smiled. It was a rare sight to anyone other than you, but seeing him happy never ceased to warm your bones.

“You did well, darling.” He said, smoothing back your hair before saying more seriously, “But next time could you tell me your plans before you shut me out?”

You winced. “I’m sorry. There wasn’t time.”

“I figured as much.” Azriel said, kissing your cheeks to show that he wasn’t upset. You leaned into his touch as he traced your cheekbones with his thumbs.

You were the most precious thing in the world to him. More precious than his wings. More precious than his freedom. More precious than the 500 hundred years it had taken him to finally realize what you were to him. The thought of losing you was more painful than a knife to the stomach.

“You can trust me.” You said, “I know how to handle myself.”

Azriel chuckled and shook his head, “I am very well aware of both those things,” He tilted his head in thought, “And I’m fairly certain everyone else also knows now.”

You blushed, “Maybe it was a bit much.”

Azriel shrugged, “Maybe. Maybe not. All I know is one thing.”

“And what is this one thing?” You asked, leaning forward and capturing his lips in another kiss. He tasted like cedar and rain. He tasted like home.

“That you should never be afraid of showing your power. Never. No matter what happens. No matter what people say.”

His hand that had been cradling the back of your neck moved down, tracing the scars on your shoulder blades where your wings had once been. You shivered under his touch, but didn’t recoil. He understood. He was perhaps the only person who understood what it meant to have such a physical piece of yourself taken away.

You kissed his hands, taking care to feel every valley beneath your lips and worship them. They were a part of him now, tied to him as much as his shadows were, and so how could you not love them? How could you not love him? This male who was your equal in every way imaginable and who made you feel happier and safer than you ever thought possible.

He helped you out of the bathtub, drying your skin and hair before carefully brushing through all the tangles and knots.

“I should go report to Rhys.” You said with little determination as Azriel laid you out on the bed and then crawled under the covers beside you, pulling you against his chest and wrapping you both under the protective cover of his wings.

“Let it wait until tomorrow. Let me have you tonight.”

You smiled, “I’ve only been gone nine days.”

His hazel eyes melted into yours. “Nine days too long, Y/n.”

You could never deny him anything when he looked at you like that, so full of feeling and a rawness too intense for words. And it wasn’t like you were dying to leave this bed and chase after your brother. Like Azriel had said - it could wait until tomorrow. So you melted into his arms and watched as Azriel slowly fell into a deep sleep for the first time in nine days.

______________

Author's note:

A woman covered in the blood of her enemies is *chef's kisses*

That's it. That's the note.

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